Saturday, January 14, 2006
'Song of the Rider (1860)'
Pleasant surprise(s)! I found my copy of 'Tres suenos de Espana', the paper I wrote in September-November 1983. And there were eight translated poems, not the seven that I had thought.
Beneath the dark moon
of the highwaymen,
the spurs sing.
Little black horse.
Where do you bear your dead rider?
...the cruel spurs
of the motionless outlaw
who dropped the reins.
Cold little horse.
That scent of the knife's flowering!
Beneath the dark moon,
blood spills down the side
of Sierra Morena.
Little black horse.
Where do you bear your dead rider?
The night spurs
your black flanks
with prickling stars.
Cold little horse.
That scent of the knife's flowering!
Beneath the dark moon,
a cry! and the lengthening horns
of the campfire.
Little black horse.
Where do you bear your dead rider?
....by Federico Garcia Lorca
........translation by FossilGuy, 1982
.............Illustration: pen and ink by FossilGuy, with a horse head stolen from Picasso.
Beneath the dark moon
of the highwaymen,
the spurs sing.
Little black horse.
Where do you bear your dead rider?
...the cruel spurs
of the motionless outlaw
who dropped the reins.
Cold little horse.
That scent of the knife's flowering!
Beneath the dark moon,
blood spills down the side
of Sierra Morena.
Little black horse.
Where do you bear your dead rider?
The night spurs
your black flanks
with prickling stars.
Cold little horse.
That scent of the knife's flowering!
Beneath the dark moon,
a cry! and the lengthening horns
of the campfire.
Little black horse.
Where do you bear your dead rider?
....by Federico Garcia Lorca
........translation by FossilGuy, 1982
.............Illustration: pen and ink by FossilGuy, with a horse head stolen from Picasso.
# posted by Clear Creek Girl : 10:58 AM
