I. Gacela of Desperate LoveThe night does not wish to comeso that you cannot comeand I cannot go.But I will go,though a scorpion sun should eat my temple.But you will comewith your tongue burned by the salt rain.The day does not wish to comeso that you cannot comeand I cannot go.But I will go,yielding to the toads my chewed carnation.But you will comethrough the muddy sewers of darkness. Neither night nor day wishes to comeso that I may die for youand you die for me.III. Gacela of Unforeseen Love No one understood the perfumeof the dark magnolia of your womb. No one knew that you tormenteda hummingbird between your teeth.A thousand Persian ponies feel asleepin the moonlit plaza of your forehead,while through four nights I embracedyour waist, enemy of the snow.Between plaster and jasmines, your glancewas a pale branch of seeds.I sought in my heart to give youthe ivory letters that say always,always, always: garden of my agony,your body elusive always,the blood of your veins in my mouth,your mouth already lightness for my death.
FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA (1898-1936)
II. Gacela of the FlightI have lost myself in the sea many timeswith my ear full of freshly cut flowers,with my tongue full of love and agony.I have lost myself in the sea many timesas I lose myself in certain children.There is no one who in giving a kissdoes not feel the smile of faceless people,and no one who in touching a newborn childforgets the motionless skulls of horses.Because the roses search in the foreheadfor a hard landscape of boneand the hands of man have no other purposethan to imitate the roots below the earth.As I lose myself in the heart of certain children,I have lost myself in the sea many times.Ignorant of the water I go seekinga death full of light to consume me.