Federico Garcia Lorca: “Gacela of Dark Death”

Gacela of Dark Death

I want to dream the dream of apples,
to withdraw from the commotion of cemeteries.
I want to dream the dream of that child
who wished to cut his heart out upon the high seas.

I don’t want to hear again that the dead lose no blood,
that a rotting mouth keeps on begging for water.
I don’t want to learn about the tortures of the meadow
or the moon with the serpent’s mouth
who toils on until dawn.

I want to sleep a long, long while,
a while, a minute, a century.
But everyone knows that I’m not dead yet,
that there’s a stable of gold between my lips,
that I’m the insignificant friend of the western wind,
that I’m the great, looming shadow of all my tears.

Come cover me with a veil at dawn,
when sunrise pelts me with fistfuls of ants
when it fills up my shoes with stone-hard water
so the claws of scorpions slide right past me.

For I want to dream the dream of apples,
to learn a lament that will cleanse me of the earth.
I want to go and live with that dark child
who wished to cut his heart out upon the high seas.

Federico Garcia Lorca

Translated from Spanish by Paul Weinfield, © 2013
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s