Federico García Lorca Quotes

Porque tú crees que el tiempo cura y que las paredes tapan, y no es verdad, no es verdad. ¡Cuando las cosas llegan a los centros, no hay quien las arranque!

Little black horse.
Where are you taking your dead rider?

El remanso del aire
bajo la rama del eco. El remanso del agua
bajo fronda de luceros. El remanso de tu boca
bajo espesura de besos.

Vamos al rincón oscuro,
donde yo siempre te quiera,
que no me importe la gente,
ni el veneno que nos echa.

I am the immense shadow of my tears

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

عندما أموت
ادفنوني مع قيثارتي
عندما أموت
بين البرتقال والنعنع

عندما أموت
ادفنوني إذا شئتم
في مهب الريح

Paint me a heaven of love with your bloodied mouth.

Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,

never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.

If I told you the whole story it would never end...What's happened to me has happened to a thousand woman.

The children watch
a distant point.
Lamps go out.
Some blind girls
question the moon
and spirals of grief
rise in the air.
The mountains survey
a distant point.

- After Passing By

There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog.

Tus hijas están y viven como metidas en alacenas. Pero ni tú ni nadie puede vigilar por el interior de los pechos. BERNARDA.

"يقول الأصيل : " ظامئ أنا للظل! " / قال القمر : " ظامئ للنجوم البريق! " / والنبع البلور الصافي يسأل عن شفتين / والريح ... عن الآهات"

Pero yo ya no soy yo
Ni mi casa es ya mi casa.

But now I am no longer I,
nor is my house any longer my house.