CASIDA OF THE WEEPING
I’ve closed my balcony
for I don’t want to hear the weeping,
yet out beyond the grey walls
nothing is heard but weeping.
There are very few angels singing,
there are very few dogs barking,
a thousand violins fit in the palm of my hand.
But the weeping’s a dog, immense,
the weeping’s an angel, immense,
the weeping’s a violin, immense
the tears have silenced the wind,
and nothing is heard but weeping.
Federico García Lorca
Translation by A. S. Kline