Federico García Lorca: “The Wounds of Love”

The Wounds of Love

 

Translated by Cliona Kennedy (University of St Andrews)

 

This light, this devouring fire.

This grey landscape which enshrouds me.

This sorrow centred upon one idea.

This agony of sky, of world and of time.

These tears of blood which adorn

an unplucked lyre, a lustful torch.

This weight of the sea that crushes me.

This scorpion which dwells in my heart.

They are love’s garland, the wounded’s bed.

Where awake, I dream of your presence

amidst the wreckage of my sunken heart.

Although I struggle to wisdom’s height

your heart has spread before me a valley

of hemlock, and knowledge of bitter passion.

 

Llagas de amor

 

Esta luz, este fuego que devora.

Este paisaje gris que me rodea.

Este dolor por una sola idea.

Esta angustia de cielo, mundo y hora.

Este llanto de sangre que decora

lira sin pulso ya, lúbrica tea.

Este peso del mar que me golpea.

Este alacrán que por mi pecho mora.

Son guirnalda de amor, cama de herido,

donde sin sueño, sueño tu presencia

entre las ruinas de mi pecho hundido.

Y aunque busco la cumbre de prudencia

me da tu corazón valle tendido

con cicuta y pasión de amarga ciencia.

 

 

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