reza calla y trabaja on a wall in granada work be quiet and pray

be quiet and work and pray in granada a wall at the moorish casa del chapiz no

lazy bum will go to heaven peering down an inner wall la educación

es obra de todos the work of all ave maria in granada see en su granada and that

day the deserted casa del chapiz no arabist for the arabesques

a woman looking after a child behind a low door and praying

and working in silence knowing nothing and working unable to tell us

anything y reza and later plazuela san nicolás the white on white on

white and silence in the white on white on white quicklime swarming white

on white swarming quicklime round cobblestones on the street and white within

a white arch quiet quicklime and working white a wall of dazzling white

and beyond in the far yobnder beyond the generalife and alhambra's crimson contour

the white plazuela self-contained containing itself like a scream of quicklime and the

generalife and the alhambra crimson amid black cypresses mudésjar face

of granada and now priestley's garden villa cars stopping the guardias civiles

the british ambassador touring the place amid the caudillo's pomp

and from priestley's garden villa priestley emerges or could it be to receive him

an array of carriages scandalizing the silent quicklime her british majesty's

ambassador visits an aristocrat in granada kids scurrying

fleeing through the hollows of doors violated white the marrow of white

wounded the wrath of whiteness flowing over itself plazuela

san nicolás no more what it was two minutes ago once broken the

silence of white sulky dry calcium of white whispering quicklime

and works y estamos sentados sobre un volcán on a volcano the driver said on the

patio of the cartuja sitting in the courtyard of the alhambra christened by the crimson

afternoon waiting for opening time a volcano ripping open a heart beating in granada

and that's why on the wall reza and work and be quiet san bernardo religión y patria

and again the albaicín with its garden villas cármenes and glorietas albaicín plummeting

from myriad minute miradores overlooking vistas of the alhambra and the

red generalife profile cut in black scarlet turning the bold moorish

sun into gold and the mauresque murals of granada but the silence in the plazuela or

placeta san nicolás broken for a mere minute forever never

more the calm quicklime the clam quicklime quieted in the first moment of the first

white emerging raging and hurling us catapulting us into white

overwhelming white spring of whiteness flinging us dazzling white elastic of

utter whiteness hurling us against the blackcrimson horizon landing of

another skyline the alwaysgrayhaired shimmery snow of the sierra nevada now

i write now the vision is paper and ink on paper the white is paper

gessoed autauric and mozarab stucco walls of paper do not return but the cuticle

of time the lunule of the nail of time and that's why i write and that's why

slave i inscribe gnaw down the nail of time to the root of the nail to the cob the refuse the sap

sucking the dregs of the dross i don’t revoke the patina of paper paper pips paper peel

paper bark paper core that covers the incarnadine heart of granada where a volcano

we’re seated on explodes and that’s why it whispers y por eso trabaja and that’s why por eso