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Gacela: The Memory of Love
Don't take your memory with you.
Let it stay here in my heart,
a shivering white cherry tree
in the torment of January.
I'm divided from the dead
by a wall of bad dreams.
I give the pain of fresh lillies
to a heart made of plaster.
All night in the orchard
my eyes are like two dogs.
All night I am eating
poisonous quinces.
Sometimes the wind
is a tulip of fear;
a sickly tulip
on a winter morning.
A wall of bad dreams
divides me from the dead.
The grass quietly covers
your body's grey valley.
Round the arch where we met
hemlock grows.
But don't take your memory with you,
let it stay here in my heart.
English translation by Paul Archer of Lorca's Gacela del recuerdo de amor.
For more poems from this collection, go to El Diván Del Tamarit. |
