Saturday, January 05, 2008

Wedges of orange

The concept of oranges related to a mystical silence started to take form from an idea by Amber, months ago, about sharing oranges in silence under the sun. I made the artwork of wedges on a plate immediately, but didn't posted, without knowing why. I said to her something like "I have it done, the best I could, will send it to you", and never did. Exactly like in the poem I was shutted up to listen for something, instead of talking; something was lacking yet. Then, yesterday, I discovered the poem, that includes the Orange Tree, and the dialog, and the mystic silence, and then the post was ready, and here it is, and dedicated to my friend Amber.

The young girl stood beside me.
I Saw not what her young eyes could see:
- A light, she said, not of the sky
Lives somewhere in the Orange Tree.

- Is it, I said, of east or west?
The heartbeat of a luminous boy
Who with his faltering flute confessed
Only the edges of his joy?

Was he, I said, borne to the blue
In a mad escapade of Spring
Ere he could make a fond adieu
To his love in the blossoming?

- Listen! the young girl said. There calls
No voice, no music beats on me;
But it is almost sound: it falls
This evening on the Orange Tree.

- Does he, I said, so fear the Spring
Ere the white sap too far can climb?
See in the full gold evening
All happenings of the olden time?

Is he so goaded by the green?
Does the compulsion of the dew
Make him unknowable but keen
Asking with beauty of the blue?

- Listen! the young girl said. For all
Your hapless talk you fail to see
There is a light, a step, a call
This evening on the Orange Tree.

- Is it, I said, a waste of love
Imperishably old in pain,
Moving as an affrighted dove
Under the sunlight or the rain?

Is it a fluttering heart that gave
Too willingly and was reviled?
Is it the stammering at a grave,
The last word of a little child?

- Silence! the young girl said. Oh, why,
Why will you talk to weary me?
Plague me no longer now, for I
Am listening like the Orange Tree.

John Shaw Neilson, "The Orange Tree".


Deb said...

Sweet ;-)

Amber said...

Thank you Cristian. In a time full of darkness and uncertainty, this brought me comfort. Your comment box is no place to tell of what happened. I will email you.

runnerfrog said...

@ Deborah: Indeed... you are funny ;-)

@ Amber: You have nothing to thank about this, friend.
Now I am updated. My best wishes for you, and I'll be around.

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