Loose translation - Little fair-skinned girl goes to visit the little Dark-skinned one.
Presence in Silence.
Presence in Silence.
Today I visited the Montserrat Monastery once again, just over the other side of the mountain, a special visit to La Moreneta. Who is La Moreneta? La Moreneta (Catalan for the little dark-skinned one) – The Virgin of Montserrat, is a statue of the Virgin Mary and infant Christ venerated at the Santa Maria de Montserrat monastery. She is one of several ¨Black Virgins¨ located throughout Europe.
Legend has it that the statue was discovered by shepherds attracted by a blaze they saw each evening for seven Saturdays in a row, which came from inside a cave near the Montserrat sierra. Once the statue was found, the Bishop of Barcelona decided to bring it to the city, but the Virgin wanted to remain in the mountain. No one was able to pull the figure from the ground, so in this place the sanctuary was built. Montserrat, home of La Moreneta, is one of the supposed candidates for the ‘Grail Castle’ - a hiding place, in the Middle Ages, for the Holy Grail.
I was raised very Catholic. Nowdays, it is rare that I find inspiration in all of this. However, today, for reasons which I cannot explain, something funny happens. As I write this, there is a severe thunderstorm rolling off the mountain. The lights and the electricity have gone out several times (forgive any typos or grammatical errors, please! I have lost my work several times over, and the spell-check defaults to Catalan, so I have been without this for months now). I am not feeling particularly articulate as of late, hence the random posting. I am tired, and continually need to fumble through the dark to switch the electrical breakers on. I am sitting in the reception area using the common computer at Can Serrat. I spent several hours alone in the house earlier while the gang went to Barcelona, planning my next series of paintings, a continuation of the Fantasma, or Ghost theme from my residency last fall. Apropro. The doors are closed firmly shut and there are no windows where I am. Yet, a cool breeze keeps distinctly brushing and blowing past my shoulder. And, the beads that hang in the kitchen doorway, to keep the insects out during the hot summer, just behind me, at first slowly, then, continually, rhythmically, begin to sway and rustle, off and on, as if someone is passing through.
Creepy. But tonight, only for a moment. Somehow, I smile, am not bothered. I feel the presence of La Moreneta. There. And here. She is with me. Just when I need her. All is right with the universe and I once again feel centered.
I was raised very Catholic. Nowdays, it is rare that I find inspiration in all of this. However, today, for reasons which I cannot explain, something funny happens. As I write this, there is a severe thunderstorm rolling off the mountain. The lights and the electricity have gone out several times (forgive any typos or grammatical errors, please! I have lost my work several times over, and the spell-check defaults to Catalan, so I have been without this for months now). I am not feeling particularly articulate as of late, hence the random posting. I am tired, and continually need to fumble through the dark to switch the electrical breakers on. I am sitting in the reception area using the common computer at Can Serrat. I spent several hours alone in the house earlier while the gang went to Barcelona, planning my next series of paintings, a continuation of the Fantasma, or Ghost theme from my residency last fall. Apropro. The doors are closed firmly shut and there are no windows where I am. Yet, a cool breeze keeps distinctly brushing and blowing past my shoulder. And, the beads that hang in the kitchen doorway, to keep the insects out during the hot summer, just behind me, at first slowly, then, continually, rhythmically, begin to sway and rustle, off and on, as if someone is passing through.
Creepy. But tonight, only for a moment. Somehow, I smile, am not bothered. I feel the presence of La Moreneta. There. And here. She is with me. Just when I need her. All is right with the universe and I once again feel centered.
The Black Virgin
W.S. Merwin
You are not part of knowing are you
at the top of the stairs in the white cliff
in the deep valley smelling of summer
you are not part of vanity although
it may have climbed up on its knees to you
and paid to be a name cut on the way
you do not need the candles before you
you would not see them I suppose if you
were to open your eyelids you are not
seen in what is visible it appears
and the crown is not part of you whatever
it is made of nor the robe of days
with its colors glittering you are not
part of pride or owning or understanding
and the questions that have been carried to you
life after life there unseen at your feet
oh presence in silence while the dark swifts
flash past with one cry out in the sunlight
La Moreneta
W.S. Merwin
No és part de saber que estan
a la part superior de l'escala al penya-segat blanc
en la profunda vall amb olor a estiu
que no formen part de la vanitat, encara que
pot haver pujat als seus genolls perquè
i pagades a ser un nom de tall en el camí
vostè no necessita les veles abans que
que no tornaria a veure Suposo que si
van anar a obrir les seves parpelles no es
vist en el que es veu sembla
i la corona no és part del que
i la corona no és part del que
està fet de ni la túnica dels dies
amb els seus colors brillants que no són
part de l'orgull o la propietat o la comprensió
i les preguntes que s'han portat al fet que
la vida després de la vida hi ha ocult als teus peus
oh presència en silenci mentre els falciots fosc
passat flash amb un crit a la llum del sol


1 comments:
I'd love to go here. I don't know a heck of a lot about Montserrat but you paint a pretty picture with this post. Good Spanish practice for me too!
Post a Comment