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Слушать(AI)Gacela of the Dead Child
Each afternoon in Granada,each afternoon, a child dies.
Each afternoon the water sits downand chats with its companions.
The dead wear mossy wings.
The cloudy wind and the clear windare two pheasants in flight through the towers,and the day is a wounded boy.
Not a flicker of lark was left in the airwhen I met you in the caverns of wine.
Not the crumb of a cloud was left in the groundwhen you were drowned in the river.
A giant of water fell down over the hills,and the valley was tumbling with lilies and dogs.
In my hands' violet shadow, your body,dead on the bank, was an angel of coldness.
Federico Garcia Lorca
Federico del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús García Lorca (5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936), known as Federico García Lorca, was a Spanish poet, playwrigh
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