|Canvas with Ginkgo leaves (artwork created by myself)|
lyrics by Elena Martin Vivaldi (1907-1998)
translated Spanish into English by Cor Kwant
A tree. Good. Yellow
of autumn. It opens up
to the sky brilliantly, eager
for more light. Screams its splendour
into the garden. And natural,
free, it scatters its colour
straight into the blue. It grows
like a flame, blazes, illuminates
its ancient blood. Dominates
all the air branch by branch.
|Ginkgo Biloba / Maidenhair tree in November, Stanley Park|
All the air, branch by branch,
aglow with the yellow abundance
of the tree. Shines
that, only blue, lights
with a golden fire: oriflamme.
Not flag. Joyful fountain
of colour: It knocks up
its golden pole towards the sky.
Its eagerness of many centuries
reaches us. Light from the East.
Yellow. The wind does not
imagine yet, the flight
of its leaves, its brightness
already subdued. The gloomy
evening approaches. Not even foretells
its loneliness, that sorrow
of its branches.It was certitude,
joy – autumn! - . Beacon
of open light. Helplessness
afterwards. Where is your beauty?