“The duende....Where is the duende? Through the empty archway a wind of the spirit enters, blowing insistently over the heads of the dead, in search of new landscapes and unknown accents: a wind with the odour of a child's saliva, crushed grass, and medusa's veil, announcing the endless baptism of freshly created things.” ChildrenSpiritWindEmptyEndlessLandscapeGrassAccentsVeilsCrushedBaptismAnnouncingMedusaSalivaArchways Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
“Green how I love you green. Green wind. Green boughs. The ship on the sea And the horse on the mountain.” SeaLove YouWindMountainHorseGreenShips Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
“I put my head out of my window and see how much the wind’s knife wants to slice it off. On this unseen guillotine, I’ve placed the eyeless head of all my desires.” WantDesireWindWindowKnivesUnseenGuillotine Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
“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.” FirstsHeartWaterWhiteSilenceMorningFiveImpossibleWindBirdHotGuitarEveningUselessDawnBranchesSandTargetSouthernYearningWoundedArrowsWeepingCamellias Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
“Verde que te quiero verde. Verde viento. Verde ramas. Green I love you green. Green Wind. Green branches.” LoveTreeLove YouWindGreenBranchesRama Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
“Green how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches.” WantColorWindGreenBranchesI Want You Author:Federico Garcia Lorca
