"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… - Federico García Lorca

Gacela of the Flight”

I have lost myself in the sea many tunes
with my ear full of freshly cut flowers,
with my tongue full of love awl agony.
I have lost myself in the sea many times
as I lose myself in the heart of certain children.

There is no one who in giving a kiss
does not feel the smile of faceless people,
and no one who in touching a newborn child
forgets the motionless skulls of horses.

Because the roses search in the forehead
for a hard landscape of hone
and the hands of man hate no other purpose
than to imitate the roots below the earth.

As I lose myself in the heart of certain children,
I have lost myself in the sea many times.
Ignorant of the water I go seeking
a death full of light to consume me.

I know there is no straight road
No straight road in this world
Only a giant labyrinth
Of intersecting crossroads

نواح الجيتار يبدأ
أقداح الشروق قد تحطمت
نواح الجيتار يبدأ
من الصعب أن تسكتها
من المستحيل أن تسكتها
إنها تبكي برتابة كما يبكي الماء
كما تبكي الريح علي صوت سقوط الثلج
من المستحيل أن تسكتها
فهي تبكي لأشياء انقضت
بكاء رمال الجنوب الدافيء
تتوق لأزهار الكاميليا البيضاء
إنها تبكي سهما بلا هدف
و مساءا بلا صباح
و أول طائر مات علي الغصن
آه .. أيتها الجيتار
إنك قلب جرح عميقا ... بخمسة سيوف