|SINGING BIRD, altered book, mixed media, 2009|
Galeria 6, Mineral de Pozos
In her email, Judy said she has a thing for larks, and wondered if I might send her something more about the poem. Reading that email, I was called right back to the moment I first heard about Nadia and started researching her life, her death, her words, now memorialized forever rather than silenced.
|(private collection, San Francisco)|
THE FALL OF A LARK
translation by T.S. Kerrigan
My wings are closed... I cannot fly,
She wrote before she plummeted,
A creature less of earth than sky,
A lark that bullies killed with stones,
She fell to earth, her music stilled,
A broken heap of shattered bones.
What gift like hers endures for long
Where ignorance flings stones at art,
And bullies put an end to song?
To choose to sing's an act of will,
She had to know instinctively
A singing bird's the first they kill.
|Book cover, SINGING BIRD|