"Inútilmente interrogas.
Tus ojos miran al cielo.
Buscas detrás de las nubes,
huellas que se llevó el viento.
Tus ojos miran al cielo.
Buscas detrás de las nubes,
huellas que se llevó el viento.
Buscas las manos calientes, los rostros de los que fueron,
el círculo donde yerran
tocando sus instrumentos.
el círculo donde yerran
tocando sus instrumentos.
Nubes que eran ritmo, canto
sin final y sin comienzo,
campanas de espumas pálidas
volteando su secreto,
sin final y sin comienzo,
campanas de espumas pálidas
volteando su secreto,
palmas de mármol, criaturas
girando al compás del tiempo,
imitándole la vida
su perpetuo movimiento.
girando al compás del tiempo,
imitándole la vida
su perpetuo movimiento.
Inútilmente interrogas
desde tus párpados ciegos.
¿Qué haces mirando a las nubes,
José Hierro?"
desde tus párpados ciegos.
¿Qué haces mirando a las nubes,
José Hierro?"
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ReplyDeleteHockney's world is not the
ReplyDeletelilac-pasteled dream of the New Age
chocolate box artists, with their bucolic
fantasies of a unicorned Utopia, but the
rational attempt to paint a positive vision
of the world increasingly informed by a
fascination with modern science: "In
Euclidian geometry there are perfect
shapes, perfect forms, like the cube. In
fractal geometry the definition of a form is
much closer to nature. We would be
surprised if our lungs were a perfect cube,
but in fractal geometry they can be seen
as perfect forms. I find that absolutely
engrossing because it is another way of
seeing. And not only that; it is, at the
same time, another way of feeling."
The enthusiasm expressed in this quote
is the enthusiasm for life itself. It is the
joy of being conscious—of being
able—not merely to perceive the wonder
of the world around us, but also,
increasingly, to understand it.
"Transhumanist philosopher" Simon Young on David Hockney.
Π.
thanks!
ReplyDelete