Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Before Dawn by Frederico García Lorca

Before Dawn

But like love
the archers
are blind 

The arrows
leave trails of hot
lily
in the green night 

The moon-keel
shreds purple clouds
and the quivers
fill with dew 

Ay—but the archers
are blind
like love

(Translated by Sarah Arvio)

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