on the Western paintings of the Sonoma County California artist, Mr. Perry Cordill
and to the poet, Vachel Lindsey
'The flower-fed buffaloes of the spring
In the days of long ago.'
Vachel Lindsey, The Flower Fed Buffaloes
it's the code of the West parried against the
apple green skies; in after mirage, the surprise of
pink edging the profile of the rough explorers.
it's tangerine haloes falling aslant of their mythical naysayers. these wranglers, cow-herders, outlaws of
a mystical surmise:
trail-blazing, fresh hued and no rope-trick-
peeling the bark of the scratch art colours
like a stick from the Tree of Paradise
just as if, in a Heavenly gallery they are hung
while God intensified
old movie poster sunsets behind them
or opened an orchid portal on the world as
the artist, the poet, clip-clopped by to register
these incongruities.
standing stock still amid tall grasses
burr ridden, wearied with visions
after hard riding, painting silk on silk their colours-
huckleberried pie pleine aire-
and in the cyclone's eye:
they will astonish small animals;
the snuffling buffalo at the rainbow fed streams
who will never be the same, once, seen in this light-
they are cast in an Eternal Spring
by more than the virtue of the paint dried
on the meadowlark canvases:
vivid, the angels of freedom
have lassoed the dark steers
mary angela douglas 8 june 2014; rev.9 june 2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem