Gacela of the Dark Death

Poem by Federico Garcia Lorca

 

 

I want to sleep the dream of the apples,

to withdraw from the tumult of cemeteries.

I want to sleep the dream of that child

who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.

 

I don't want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood,

that the putrid mouth goes on asking for water.

I don't want to learn of the tortures of the grass,

nor of the moon with a serpent's mouth

that labors before dawn.

 

I want to sleep awhile,

awhile, a minute, a century;

but all must know that I have not died;

that there is a stable of gold in my lips;

that I am the small friend of the West wing;

that I am the intense shadows of my tears.

 

Cover me at dawn with a veil,

because dawn will throw fistfuls of ants at me,

and wet with hard water my shoes

so that the pincers of the scorpion slide.

 

For I want to sleep the dream of the apples,

to learn a lament that will cleanse me to earth;

for I want to live with that dark child

who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.

 

 

BIO: Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936) became one of the most important poets and playwrights in 20th century Spain. He was murdered by Franco's soldiers during the Spanish Civil War for his homosexuality and liberal political views.