Quotes
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I sing your restless longing for the statue, your fear of the feelings that await you in the street. I sing the small sea siren who sings to you, riding her bicycle of corals and conches. But above all I sing a common thoughtthat joins us in the dark and golden hours. The light that blinds our eyes is not art. Rather it is love, friendship, crossed swords.
Federico Garcia Lorca
Stigmata of LoveA light which lives on what the flames devour, a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch, a crucifixion by a single wound, a sky and earth that darken by each hour, a sob of blood whose red ribbon adornsa lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch, a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef, a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest--this is the wreath of love, this bed of thornsis where I dream of you stealing my rest, haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief. I...
Federico Garcia Lorca
Ditty of First Desire In the green morning. I wanted to be a heart. A heart. And in the ripe evening. I wanted to be a nightingale. A nightingale. (Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love.) In the vivid morning. I wanted to be myself. A heart. And at the evening's end. I wanted to be my voice. A nightingale. Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love.
Federico Garcia Lorca
The river Guadalquivir. Flows between oranges and olives. The two rivers of Granada. Descend from the snow to the wheat. Oh my love! Who went and never returned. The river Guadalquivir. Has beards of maroon. The two rivers of Granada. One a cry the other blood. Oh my love! Who vanished into thin air
Federico Garcia Lorca
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