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  GACELAS

II
GACELA OF THE TERRIBLE PRESENCE

I want the river to lose its way.
I want the wind to quit the valley.

I want the night to lose its sight,
and my heart its flower of gold;

the cattle to speak to the great leaves,
and the worm to die of shadows;

the teeth on the skull to shine,
and the silk to be drowned in yellows.

I can see wounded midnight’s duel
struggling, knotted, with noon light.

I resist the broken arch, where time suffers,
and the green venom of twilight.

But do not make a black cactus,
open in reeds, of your nakedness.

Leave me afraid of dark planets,
but do not show me your calm waist.

autógrafo

Federico García Lorca
Translation by A. S. Kline


subir   poema aleatorio   Diván del Tamarit (1931-1934)   siguiente / next   anterior / previous
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