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Gacela: The Bitter Root
There’s a bitter root
and a vast world of terraces.
Not even the tiniest of hands
breaks open the water's gate.
Where are you going, where, where?
The sky has a thousand windows
- a battle of furious bees -
and there’s a bitter-tasting root.
Bitter.
It stings under the foot
and inside the face,
and chafes the cool trunk
of freshly cut night.
Love, my enemy,
bite your bitter-tasting root!
English translation by Paul Archer of Lorca's Gacela de la raiz amarga.
For more poems from this collection, go to El Diván Del Tamarit. |
