Federico Garcia Lorca
Federico Garcia Lorca
Federico del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús García Lorca, known as Federico García Lorcawas a Spanish poet, playwright, and theatre director...
NationalitySpanish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth5 June 1898
CountrySpain
flames two fire
Fire is fed by fire. The same small flame destroys Two stalks of wheat at once.
eggs wounds
Death laid its eggs in the wound
running believe night
The terrible thing is that the crowd that fills the street believes that the world will always be the same and that it is their duty to keep that huge machine running, day and night, forever. This is what comes of a Protestant morality, that I, as a (thank God) typical Spaniard, found unnerving.
burning afternoon crowds
The wounds were burning like suns at five in the afternoon, and the crowd broke the windows At five in the afternoon. Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon! It was five by all the clocks! It was five in the shade of the afternoon!
teacher struggle eye
Devoutly the teachers point out huge fumigated domes; but beneath the statues there's no love, no love beneath the eyes set in crystal. Love is there, in flesh ripped by thirst, in the tiny hut struggling against the flood; love is there, in ditches where snakes of hunger wrestle, in the sad sea that rocks dead gulls, and in the darkest stinging kiss under pillows.
pain eye air
Everyone understands the pain that accompanies death, but genuine pain doesn't live in the spirit, nor in the air, nor in our lives, nor on these terraces of billowing smoke. The genuine pain that keeps everything awake is a tiny, infinite burn on the innocent eyes of other systems.
dark light black
The world is a shoulder of dark meat (black flesh of an old mule). And the light is on the other side.
distance doors silence
We're all like the little sailor. From the harbors we hear the strains of accordions and the murky soapy noises of the docks, from the mountains we receive the dish of silence that the shepherds eat, but we don't hear more than our own distances. And what distances without end and without doors and without mountains!
white wife today
The bride, the white bride today a maiden, tomorrow a wife.
flower feet gold
The groom is like a flower of gold. When he walks, blossoms at his feet unfold.
color wind branches
Green how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches.
serenity silence apprenticeship
In each thing there is an insinuation of death. Stillness, silence, serenity are all apprenticeships.
lonely withered withered-leaves
Death, lonely death, Beneath the withered leaves.
dark silence soul
With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.