Before the Dawn (Federico Garcia Lorca Poem)
But like love the archers are blind Upon the green night, the piercing saetas leave traces of warm lily. The ...
But like love the archers are blind Upon the green night, the piercing saetas leave traces of warm lily. The ...
Y que yo me la llev? al r?o creyendo que era mozuela, pero ten?a marido. Fue la noche de Santiago ...
Weeping, I go down the street Grotesque, without solution With the sadness of Cyrano And Quixote. Redeeming Infinite impossiblities With ...
Tree, tree dry and green. The girl with the pretty face is out picking olives. The wind, playboy of towers, ...
In the green morning I wanted to be a heart. A heart. And in the ripe evening I wanted to ...
In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep. The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl ...
I have shut my windows. I do not want to hear the weeping. But from behind the grey walls. Nothing ...
1. Cogida and death At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the ...
Never let me lose the marvel of your statue-like eyes, or the accent the solitary rose of your breath places ...
After rain, through afterglow, the unfolding fan of railway landscape sidled onthe pivot of a larger arc into the green ...
La luna vino a la fragua con su polis?n de nardos. El ni?o la mira mira. El ni?o la est? ...
Green, how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea and the horse on ...
Voces de muerte sonaron cerca del Guadalquivir. Voces antiguas que cercan voz de clavel varonil. Les clav? sobre las botas ...
Empieza el llanto de la guitarra. Se rompen las copas de la madrugada. Empieza el llanto de la guitarra. Es ...
The moon came into the forge in her bustle of flowering nard. The little boy stares at her, stares. The ...
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