in their mouths, a strange taste
Dont you see the wound I have
And the horse on the mountain.
cool face, black hair,
dreaming in the bitter sea.
and the forest, cunning cat,
where is your bitter girl?
up to the high balconies;
decently in my bed.
my knife for her blanket.
--If it were possible, my boy,
through which the water rumbles.
Of iron, if thats possible,
Under the gypsy moon,
with blankets of fine chambray.
But now I am not I,
Your blood oozes and flees
and she cannot see them.
with eyes of cold silver.
Green, how I want you green.
Over the mouth of the cistern
How many times would she wait for you,
my horse for her house,
were pounding on the door.
My friend, I come bleeding
holds her up above the water.
thirsty dark brown roses.
were trembling on the roofs.
How many times she waited for you!
that opens the road of dawn.
on this green balcony!
--Let me climb up, atleast,
green flesh, her hair green,
Leaving a trail of blood.
Railings of the moon
--Your white shirt has grown
Big hoarfrost stars
all things are watching her
--My friend, I want to die
the gypsy girl was swinging,
Federico García Lorca
and the horse on the mountain.
from the gates of Cabra.
A thousand crystal tambourines
green flesh, her hair green,
The fig tree rubs its wind
She is still on her balcony
Green wind. Green branches.
with eyes of cold silver.
nor is my house now my house.
The ship out on the sea
Leaving a trail of teardrops.
Let me climb up! Let me,
The night became intimate
with the sandpaper of its branches,
up to the green balconies.
nor is my house now my house.
Now the two friends climb up,
like a little plaza.
Tin bell vines
--My friend, I want to trade
struck at the dawn light.
green wind, green branches.
around the corners of your sash.
she dreams on her balcony,
come with the fish of shadow
from my chest up to my throat?
Green wind. Green branches.
45
With the shade around her waist
my saddle for her mirror,
Green, how I want you green.
My friend, where is she--tell me--
The stiff wind left
bristles its brittle fibers.
An icicle of moon
But now I am not I,
up to the high balconies.
Green, how I want you green,
The two friends climbed up.
Id help you fix that trade.
Romance Sonambulo
Green, how I want you green.
of bile, of mint, and of basil
green flesh, her hair green,
The ship out on the sea.
Drunken "Guardias Civiles"
Green, how I want you green.
But who will come? And from where?
