The Guitar by Federico García Lorca for National Poetry Month

[dragonyphoenix]

The Guitar by Federico García Lorca
Translated by Cola Franzen

The weeping of the guitar
begins.
The goblets of dawn
are smashed.
The weeping of the guitar
begins.
Useless
to silence it.
Impossible
to silence it.
It weeps monotonously
as water weeps
as the wind weeps
over snowfields.
Impossible
to silence it.
It weeps for distant
things.
Hot southern sands
yearning for white camellias.
Weeps arrow without target
evening without morning
and the first dead bird
on the branch.
Oh, guitar!
Heart mortally wounded
by five swords.

Comments

[dragonyphoenix.livejournal.com]

Thank you. It really is beautiful. I had thought the last two lines were a tarot card image but it is the three of swords that has swords through a heart. Vivid image either way.