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The Crime was in Granada: to Federico Garcia Lorca
1. The crime
He was seen walking between rifles,
down a long street
and out into the cold countryside,
under a few dawn stars.
They murdered Federico
when the sun rose.
The firing squad
didn’t dare to look him in the face.
They all closed their eyes;
they prayed: not even God saves you!
Federico fell dead,
with blood on his brow and lead in his guts?
... you know the crime was in Granada,
poor Granada!? In his Granada.
2. The Poet and Death
He was seen walking alone with Death,
not scared of her scythe.
Was the sun already on the towers, the hammers
on anvils? The anvils, the anvils of the forges.
Federico was speaking,
flirting with Death. She was listening.
"Because in my poetry yesterday, my dear friend,
the slap of your dry palms rang out,
and you gave ice to my singing, and gave an edge
to my tragedy with your silver sickle,
I will sing of the flesh that you don’t have,
the eyes that you don’t have.
your tresses tossed in the wind,
your red lips where they kissed you...
Today like yesterday, my gypsy girl, my death,
it's so good to walk alone with you,
through the air of Granada, my Granada!"
3.
He was seen walking...
My friends, carve
from stone and dream in the Alhambra,
a memorial to the poet,
over a fountain where water weeps,
and forever say:
the crime was in Granada, in his Granada!
English translation by Paul Archer of the poem El Crimen fue en Granada by Antonio Machado.
The poem is dedicated to the Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca who was arrested by Fascist forces in his home town of Granada on 16th August 1936, during the onset of the Spanish Civil War, and murdered by firing squad a few days later.
El Crimen fue en Granada: a Federico Garcia Lorca
1. El crimen
Se le vio, caminando entre fusiles,
por una calle larga,
salir al campo frío,
aún con estrellas de la madrugada.
Mataron a Federico
cuando la luz asomaba.
El pelotón de verdugos
no osó mirarle la cara.
Todos cerraron los ojos;
rezaron: ¡ni Dios te salva!
Muerto cayó Federico
?sangre en la frente y plomo en las entrañas?
... Que fue en Granada el crimen
sabed ?¡pobre Granada!?, en su Granada.
2. El poeta y la muerte
Se le vio caminar solo con Ella,
sin miedo a su guadaña.
?Ya el sol en torre y torre, los martillos
en yunque? yunque y yunque de las fraguas.
Hablaba Federico,
requebrando a la muerte. Ella escuchaba.
«Porque ayer en mi verso, compañera,
sonaba el golpe de tus secas palmas,
y diste el hielo a mi cantar, y el filo
a mi tragedia de tu hoz de plata,
te cantaré la carne que no tienes,
los ojos que te faltan,
tus cabellos que el viento sacudía,
los rojos labios donde te besaban...
Hoy como ayer, gitana, muerte mía,
qué bien contigo a solas,
por estos aires de Granada, ¡mi Granada!»
3.
Se le vio caminar...
Labrad, amigos,
de piedra y sueño en el Alhambra,
un túmulo al poeta,
sobre una fuente donde llore el agua,
y eternamente diga:
el crimen fue en Granada, ¡en su Granada!
For more translations of poems by Antonio Machado, go to Translations. |
