"چیزایی هم هس که عوض نمی‌شه. پشت دیفارا چیزایی هس که نمی‌تونه عوض بشه چون کسی نمی‌شنوه‌تشون . "ترجمه احمد شاملو - Federico García Lorca

"The Poet Asks His Love to Write"

Visceral love, living death,
in vain, I wait your written word,
and consider, with the flower that withers,
I wish to lose you, if I have to live without self.

The air is undying: the inert rock
neither knows shadow, nor evades it.
And the heart, inside, has no use
for the honeyed frost the moon pours.

But I endured you: ripped open my veins,
a tiger, a dove, over your waist,
in a duel of teeth and lilies.

So fill my madness with speech,
or let me live in my calm
night of the soul, darkened for ever.

Black are the horses.
The horseshoes are black.
On the dark capes glisten
stains of ink and wax.
Their skulls are leaden,
which is why they do not weep.
With their patent leather souls
they come down the street.

En la bandera de la libertad bordé el amor más grande de mi vida.