Poems by Federico Garcia Lorca | Poetree

All Poems Original Poems Translations

« ‹ 1 2 3 4 › »

Paisaje

Paisaje

El campo

de olivos

se abre y se cierra

como un abanico.

Sobre el olivar

hay un cielo hundido

y una lluvia oscura

de luceros fríos.

17

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Sonnet

Sonnet

I know that my profile will be serene

in the north of an unreflecting sky.

Mercury of vigil, chaste mirror

to break the pulse of my style.

For if ivy and the cool of linen

are the norm of the body I leave behind,

my profile in the sand will be the old

unblushing silence of a crocodile.

20

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Ode to Salvador Dali

Ode to Salvador Dali

A rose in the high garden you desire.

A wheel in the pure syntax of steel.

The mountain stripped bare of Impressionist fog,

The grays watching over the last balustrades.

The modern painters in their white ateliers

clip the square root's sterilized flower.

In the waters of the Seine a marble iceberg

chills the windows and scatters the ivy.

44

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Las Seis Cuerdas

Las Seis Cuerdas

La guitarra,

hace llorar a los sueños.

El sollozo de las almas

perdidas,

se escapa por su boca

redonda.

Y como la tarántula

teje una gran estrella

34

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Cantos Nuevos -- With Translation

Cantos Nuevos -- With Translation

Dice la tarde: "¡Tengo sed de sombra!"

Dice la luna: "¡Yo, sed de luceros!"

La fuente cristalina pide labios

y suspira el viento.

Yo tengo sed de aromas y de risas,

sed de cantares nuevos

sin lunas y sin lirios,

y sin amores muertos.

53

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Adivinanza De La Guitarra

Adivinanza De La Guitarra

En la redonda

encrucijada,

seis doncellas

bailan.

Tres de carne

y tres de plata.

Los sueños de ayer las buscan

pero las tiene abrazadas

45

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Landscape of a Vomiting Multitude

Landscape of a Vomiting Multitude

The fat lady came out first,

tearing out roots and moistening drumskins.

The fat lady

who turns dying octopuses inside out.

The fat lady, the moon's antagonist,

was running through the streets and deserted buildings

and leaving tiny skulls of pigeons in the corners

and stirring up the furies of the last centuries' feasts

44

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Adam

Adam

A tree of blood soaks the morning

where the newborn woman groans.

Her voice leaves glass in the wound

and on the panes, a diagram of bone.

The coming light establishes and wins

white limits of a fable that forgets

the tumult of veins in flight

toward the dim cool of the apple.

22

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Gacela of the Dead Child

Gacela of the Dead Child

Each afternoon in Granada,

each afternoon, a child dies.

Each afternoon the water sits down

and chats with its companions.

The dead wear mossy wings.

The cloudy wind and the clear wind

are two pheasants in flight through the towers,

and the day is a wounded boy.

53

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Dawn

Dawn

Dawn in New York has

four columns of mire

and a hurricane of black pigeons

splashing in the putrid waters.

Dawn in New York groans

on enormous fire escapes

searching between the angles

for spikenards of drafted anguish.

20

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

Little Viennese Waltz

Little Viennese Waltz

In Vienna there are ten little girls,

a shoulder for death to cry on,

and a forest of dried pigeons.

There is a fragment of tomorrow

in the museum of winter frost.

There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!

Take this close-mouthed waltz.

32

0

Federico Garcia Lorca

El Balcón

El Balcón

Si muero

Dejad el balcón abierto

El niño come naranjas

(Desde mi balcón lo veo)

El segador siega el trigo

(Desde mi balcón lo siento)

Si muero

Dejad el balcón abierto

29

0

Federico Garcia Lorca