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