NO MAN'S LAND Poem by Juan Manuel Roca

No One
Paints a bird where once a tiger was.
Its roar wipes out the whistling. He sketches a tree
Where in bygone years he painted a mast.
Who will say that under tree and bird
A tiger sleeps
While a boat in full sail passes by.
This cloud
Was sheet in its rigging,
The chair rests against something that was a wall,
A blue horseman was the sky.
No One loves chiaroscuro,
The colours of forgetting,
The painters of fogs.
Rembrandt and Morandi
Asked after No One.