WHAT THOUGHTS I HAVE OF YOU TONIGHT, GARCIA LORCA,
AS I WANDER THROUGH THE PINES WHERE THE OLIVE GROVES USED TO BE,
WHERE THE PHALANGE TOOK YOU AND SHOT YOU AND LEFT YOU
(IN NOMINE PATRI ET FILII ET SPIRITUS SANCTI)


FOR LOVING A GYPSY FOR LOVING A MAN
FOR LOVING FLAMENCO FOR THE LOVING OF LIFE.

 

IN ANDALUCIA THEY REMEMBER YOU STILL,
THEY SPEAK OF YOUR DEATH, NEVER YOUR LIFE,
THEY REMEMBER THE MURDER OF THE POET-
THEY CELEBRATE, WITH FIREWORKS AND FLAMENCO, YOUR DEATH
BLOOD OF THE POET, SANGRE DE POETA

IN THE CAFE CANTANTE AN OLD MAN STANDS, HE WEARS GLASSES,
HIS FACE GLISTENS, HIS TONGUE IS FAT WITH WINE-
HE SINGS, VIBRANTLY, CANTE JONDO.
IN A FEW LINES HIS HEART SPILLS OUT
HIS FREE HAND DANCES WITH HIS VOICE
IN THE OTHER , POISED DELICATELY
A GLASS OF GOOD SPANISH RED-
BLOOD OF THE POET SANGRE DE POETA

 

BEHIND BLACK VEILS THEY WEEP FOR THE DEATH OF THE POET
HIS BODY LOST AMONG THE THOUSANDS -
WISEMEN, COMRADES, GYPSIES, JEWS, STAR-GAZERS, BUILDERS OF DOMES,
HANGING GARDENS, HONEYCOMBS,
THE IRRIDESCENT SYMMETRY OF THE SNOW FLAKES OF THE SIERRA NEVADA
REFLECTED IN THE MARBLE AND ALABASTER OF THE ALHAMBRA.
ALL LIFE WAS HERE AND FLED GIVING WAY
TO THE SMELL OF CHURCHES,
TO THE SMELL OF INCENSE,
TO THE SMELL OF AUTO-DA-FE-
TO THE STINK OF YOUR OWN DEATH.

 

SWEET, SWEET SONGS, FEDERICO
(AH, SOLIDAD OF MY SORROWS,)
SONGS OF EARTH AND FIRE,
SONGS OF THOSE WHO SEARCH FOR LOVE AND NEVER FIND IT
AND OF THOSE WHO SEEK DEATH AND FIND IT ALL TOO EASILY.
SONGS OF BLOOD WEDDINGS, ARROWS, ORANGE BLOSSOMS,
MUERTE, MUERTE, MUERTE.


SOLO GITANOS DELANTE
SOLO GITANOS DETRAS
SOLO GITANOS DELANTE
SOLO GITANOS DETRAS
COME SEE BLOOD IN THE STREETS
COME SEE
BLOOD IN THE STREETS
SOLO GITANOS DELANTE
SOLO GITANOS DETRAS
SOLO GITANOS DELANTE
SOLO GITANOS DETRAS

Back to PotM Intro

Back To Index