Unearthing a life.....

No one understood the fragrance
of that dark magnolia of your belly.
No one knew that between your teeth
you crucified the hummingbird of love.

A thousand Persian ponies are sleeping
in the square beneath the moon of your forehead,
while for four nights I am united
with your waist, destroyer of the snow.

Between the gypsum and jasmines, your glance
plants a single branch of pallid seeds.
I search for a sign of yielding, in my breast
are letters of ivory that plead always.

always, always: Garden of my agony,
your body is an eternal fugitive,
the blood of your veins in my mouth,
your mouth is now as black as my death.

...by Federico Garcia Lorca
... ... translation by FossilGuy, 1982
... ... ... illustration: Sleepers by Picasso (1965)

[This is the last of the six translations that were published in 'Quicksilver', Number One, Fall, 1989. There was one more, a long, long poem titled 'Ballad of the Spanish Civil Guard', that exists only in a copy of my O.C. class paper ... and I have misplaced it for the time being. I will search.]