Below the orange-tree
She washes cotton clothes.
Her eyes are green.
Her voice a violet hue.
Ah! Love below
The blossoming orange-tree.
The water sparkles
Flowing with the sun
In the olive tree
A sparrow is chirping.
Ah! Love below
The blossoming orange-tree.
Later as Lola
Has finished her soaping,
The young toreros come.
Ah! Love below
The blossoming orange tree.
Below the orange-tree She washes cotton clothes. Her eyes are green. Her voice a violet hue. Ah! Love below The blossoming orange-tree. Beautiful expression. Nice poem. 10 for it.
Lorca and Pablo Neruda are my favourite poets in Spanish. I think this one is based upon one of his gypsy melodies. Thank you for your comments. Tom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent piece of poet-craft.10 for you.
Thank you, Sriranj. Lorca was a great inspiration. Tom