Federico García Lorca

(5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936 / Fuente Vaqueros)

Federico García Lorca Poems

1. Train Ride 5/29/2015
2. The Old Lizard 3/26/2012
3. Peaceful Waters:Variation 3/29/2010
4. Ode To Walt Whitman 3/29/2010
5. Declaring 3/29/2010
6. The Guitar-La Guitarra 3/29/2010
7. Saturday Paseo: Adelina 1/3/2003
8. The Song Of The Barren Orange Tree 3/29/2010
9. Ode To Salvador Dali 3/29/2010
10. Serenata 1/3/2003
11. Sonnet 1/1/2004
12. Paisaje 1/1/2004
13. Preciosa Y El Aire 1/1/2004
14. Adam 3/29/2010
15. Debussy [with English Translation] 3/30/2010
16. Piccolo Valzer Viennese 1/1/2004
17. The Little Mute Boy 1/3/2003
18. Cantos Nuevos 3/29/2010
19. The Gypsy And The Wind 1/3/2003
20. The Faithless Wife 1/3/2003
21. Nocturnos De La Ventana 1/1/2004
22. Landscape Of A Vomiting Multitude 1/3/2003
23. Muerte De AntoÑIto El Camborio 1/1/2004
24. MuriÓ Al Amanecer 1/1/2004
25. Romance Sonámbulo 1/1/2004
26. Balada Amarilla Iv 1/1/2004
27. La Casada Infiel 1/1/2004
28. Sonnet Of The Sweet Complaint 1/3/2003
29. Adivinanza De La Guitarra 1/1/2004
30. Gacela Of The Dead Child 1/3/2003
31. El Balcón 1/3/2003
32. Little Viennese Waltz 1/3/2003
33. Gacela Of Unforseen Love 1/3/2003
34. Weeping 1/3/2003
35. Ditty Of First Desire 1/3/2003
36. Dawn 3/29/2010
37. Las Seis Cuerdas 1/1/2004
38. Lament For Ignacio Sánchez Mejías 1/3/2003
39. Arbolé, Arbolé 1/1/2004
40. Gacela Of The Dark Death 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Federico García Lorca

Before The Dawn

But like love
the archers
are blind

Upon the green night,
the piercing saetas
leave traces of warm
lily.

The keel of the moon
breaks through purple clouds
and their quivers
fill with dew.

Ay, but like love
the archers
are blind!

Read the full of Before The Dawn

Gacela Of The Dark Death

I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of cemetries.
I want to sleep the dream of that child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.

I don't want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood,
that the putrid mouth goes on asking for water.
I don't want to learn of the tortures of the grass,
nor of the moon with a serpent's mouth

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