Federico Garcia Lorca. (№ 259519)

Constantly
guitar is crying
as water channels, crying,
as the wind cries over the snow,
do not pray it on silence!
So cries the sunset on the dawn
so is crying the arrow without aim
so the hot sand crying
about the cool beauty of camellias.
So farewell to the life of the bird
under the threat of the serpent's sting.
On guitar,
the poor victim
five agile daggers!