Oteizaren eguna

Zarautz, October 20, 2006

Arts, Education and Urban Life

I.

 

The night ended with rain.

And the day awoke,

Its light sudden and off-white.

 

Zarautz, far beyond the horizon,

Filled its lungs with childish air

When embracing arms were carried on the wind.

 

 

*  *  *

 

Where did life go,

If there was still work to do?

 

Anger grows impatient.

The wind talks of truce,

Innocence talks of upheaval.

 

*  *  *

 

Red of age,

Red of truth,

Red of silence.

 

*  *  *

 

In the red scarf

My head finds shelter.

And ideas are kept from vanishing into thin air.

The txapela pays homage.

My hand opens.

To get is giving twice.

 

*  *  *

 

The wind takes away

Both voice and silence.

A veil made of tears covers

A night become day.

 

*  *  *

 

 

The sun

Stands in for the the church bell,

And the dogs

Are still talking about an ancient past,

A nameless past,

The past.

 

*  *  *

 

When children leave the scene,

Where lies the sculpture’s heart?

 

*  *  *

 

Neither wind,

Nor rain,

Nor sun.

Residual sunset,

Limitless,

And final.

The sea.

 

*  *  *

 

 

How are the dead to be honoured?

 

 

II.

 

The wind

Blows  everything together,

 And it muddles it,

Fills it up.

The wind

Combines everything

And makes a unique mass,

Unforeseen.

The wind takes charge

Of meadow,

And hair.

The wind

Makes no distinctions.

The wind

Encourages and threatens.

The wind

Shakes the living

And whirls their future memories about.

The dead

Feel jolted by the wind,

And silence wins the game.

 

 

III.

 

 

Flaming red,

Red of light

And passion.

 

Green red,

When the sun

Touches the horizon.

 

Dawn’s

White red.

 

 Deep red

On an essential black.

 

Red Oteiza

 

On white,

On black,

Under the wind,

In the night that deigns to be walked by a wandering dog.

 

Red Oteiza,

Chalk walk,

Neverending rain,

Blue gaze

Beyond the sky,

Before the sea.

 

Red Oteiza

Disolved in countless letter games.

 

 

Red Oteiza,

And black,

And grey.

 

 

Oteiza,

 Dawn’s moontrail.

Was it day or night when the end came?

 

*  *  *

 

Night came back,

Day came back,

Anger swelled up again,

Silence won.

There came a wish for the end as a beginning,

And again,

Time imposed its rhythm,

And the cows kept on ruminating

That eternity lies in bulls.

 

*  *  *

 

The tide swept the sand

And oysters were once more the oceans’ hidden treasure.

 

*  *  *

 

Where has the cold gone?

This time, October won’t see that autumn’s come.

 

When the names of the dead are jumbled,

Life unfaithfulness to them goes on.

 

Night is night,

Even if it is preceded by day.

 

*  *  *

 

Sun red

Red of light

Plural red.

 

Red was the day

In Zarautz,

 

 Red was the breeze

That swept

The place

 

 

Red the memory

That encouraged the future to be,

Only to be,

The future red of sunset.