I've often lost myself,
in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake
I'll go to Santiago.
And the banana tree a jellyfish.
Death laid its eggs in the wound
I put my head
out of my window and see
how much the wind’s knife
wants to slice it off.
On this unseen
guillotine, I’ve placed
the eyeless head
of all my desires.
لكنني أريدهم أن يعلموا بأنني مازلت حياً، أنني أمتلك معلفاً ذهبياً ما بينَ شفتيّ، أنني ما زلت الرفيقَ الصغيرَ للريحِ الغربية، أننّي أنا الظلُ الهائلُ لدموعي.
Federico García LorcaTag: poetry
The river Guadalquivir
Flows between oranges and olives
The two rivers of Granada
Descend from the snow to the wheat
Oh my love!
Who went and never returned
The river Guadalquivir
Has beards of maroon
The two rivers of Granada
One a cry the other blood
Oh my love!
Who vanished into thin air
E é justo? E é possível que uma coisa tão pequena como uma pistola ou uma navalha possa dar cabo de um homem, que é um touro? Nao vou me calar nunca. Os meses passam e o desespero me perfura os olhos e pica até nas pontas do cabelo.
Federico García LorcaTag: death
The little boy was looking for his voice.
(The king of the crickets had it.)
In a drop of water
the little boy was looking for his voice.
I do not want it for speaking with;
I will make a ring of it
so that he may wear my silence
on his little finger
In a drop of water
the little boy was looking for his voice.
(The captive voice, far away,
put on a cricket's clothes.)
- The Little Mute Boy
Translated by William S. Merwin
Tag: poem
I am the immense shadow of my tears
Federico García Lorcaدرون هر چيزي رازي است و شعر، راز تمام چيزهاست
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