There, in silence, at mid-day,
in that dirty, disordered winter,
those intense horses were the blood
the rhythm, the inciting treasure of life.
I looked. I looked and was reborn:
for there, unknowing, was the fountain,
the dance of gold, heaven
and the fire that lives in beauty.
I have forgotten that dark Berlin winter.
I will not forget the light of the horses.
Excerpt from the poem Horses, by Pablo Neruda
This painting is papers and oil paint, some pastel and gesso on canvas. Signed and titled on the back.
oil, paint, pastel, paper, gesso, canvas