Poems by Federico Garcia Lorca

All Poems Original Poems Translations

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Weeping

Weeping,

I go down the street

Grotesque, without solution

With the sadness of Cyrano

And Quixote.

Redeeming

Infinite impossibilities

With the rhythm of the clock.

Federico Garcia Lorca

The Faithless Wife

So I took her to the river

believing she was a maiden,

but she already had a husband.

It was on St. James night

and almost as if I was obliged to.

The lanterns went out

and the crickets lighted up.

In the farthest street corners

Federico Garcia Lorca

Sonnet Of The Sweet Complaint

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.

Federico Garcia Lorca

Debussy [with English translation]

Mi sombra va silenciosa

por el agua de la acecia.

Por mi sombra están las ranas

privadas de las estrellas.

La sombra manda a mi cuerpo

reflejos de cosas quietas.

Mi sombra va como inmenso

cínife color violeta.

Federico Garcia Lorca

Ballad of the Moon, Moon

The moon came to the forge

wearing a bustle of Spikenards.

The boy is looking at her.

The boy is looking hard.

In the troubled air,

the wind moves her arms,

showing lewd and pure,

her hard, tin breasts.

Federico Garcia Lorca

Ditty of First Desire

In the green morning

I wanted to be a heart.

a heart.

And in the ripe evening

I wanted to be a nightingale.

A nightingale.

(Soul,

turn oranged colored.

Federico Garcia Lorca

City That Does Not Sleep

In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody.

Nobody is asleep.

The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins.

The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream,

and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the

street corner

the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the

stars.

Federico Garcia Lorca

La Guitarra

Empieza el llanto

de la guitarra.

Se rompen las copas

de la madrugada.

Empieza el llanto

de la guitarra.

Es inútil

callarla.

Federico Garcia Lorca

Lament For Ignacio Sanchez Mejias

1. Cogida and death

At five in the afternoon.

It was exactly five in the afternoon.

A boy brought the white sheet

at five in the afternoon.

A trail of lime ready prepared

at five in the afternoon.

The rest was death, and death alone.

Federico Garcia Lorca

The Guitar

The weeping of the guitar

begins.

The goblets of dawn

are smashed.

The weeping of the guitar

begins.

Useless

to silence it.

Federico Garcia Lorca

Romance De La Luna, Luna

La luna vino a la fragua

con su polisón de nardos.

El niño la mira mira.

El niño la está mirando.

En el aire conmovido

mueve la luna sus brazos

y enseña, lúbrica y pura,

sus senos de duro estaño.

Federico Garcia Lorca