Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Federico García Lorca...drawing and poem...




Photobucket



Song of the Barren Orange Tree


Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.

Why was I born among mirrors?
The day walks in circles around me,
and the night copies me
in all its stars.

I want to live without seeing myself.
And I will dream that ants
and thistleburrs are my
leaves and my birds.

Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.





1 comment:

  1. I love this painting & poem.

    Lorca

    Your words drop
    Like an old wooden bucket
    On a long rope
    Down a deep, dark well
    Lined with scarred stone pillars
    scraped by the fingers
    Of centuries

    At the bottom
    In the centre of the earth
    The bucket settles gently
    In silver water
    Before it is drawn back
    Into moonlight



    c Rae Desmond Jones

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