NIGEL WALKER

Norham Castle, sunrise... JMW Turner
 

The castle is an insubstantial mass,
small in the landscape,
but surely there, reflected in
what seems to be a film
of water lying in between some
even less substantial land
that's bracken brown.
A quadruped I take to be a cow
bends, drinking in.

What you have given us is yellow.
Anaemic ochre seeping in to warm and buoy
embracing all there is. The history,
the life, the geography. Bleached yellow,
starting, not full grown.
Yellow just waiting to be taught.

Conclusively, the light is dawn.
No other time of day would be
so pale or shadowless, so washed.
Character grows beyond this point
and days take on a memory of their own.
Swell out their diaries, histories
to weeks and months and years
and learn to love and hate.

Gabriela Anton

Nigel Walker
 

Rasarit, Castelul Norham...JMW Turner

Castelul este un tot imaterial,
micut, in departare,
insa neindoielnic se afla acolo, reflectat in
ceea ce pare a fi oglinda
unei ape, cuprinsa intre
pamanturi si mai ireale,
cu nuante maro, de feriga.
Un patruped, posibil o vaca,
Se apleaca, sa bea.

Darul tau pentru noi este galbenul.
Ocrul anemic infliltrat sa incalzeasca si sa echilibreze
cuprinzand tot ce exista. Istoria,
viata, geografia. Galben pal,
insinuandu-se, imatur.
Galbenul ce de-abia asteapta sa fie impartasit altora.

Categoric, lumina inseamna rasarit.
Niciun alt moment al zilei nu ar putea fi
Atat de alb sau neumbrit, atat de curat.
Dincolo de acest punct se cladeste caracterul
iar zilele isi dezvolta o memorie proprie.
Isi umfla jurnalele, istoriile
inghitind saptamani si luni si ani
si invata iubirea si ura.