But like love
the archers
are blind

Upon the green night,
the piercing saetas
leave traces of warm
lily.

The keel of the moon
breaks through purple clouds
and their quivers
fill with dew.

Ay, but like love
the archers
are blind! 

Added: Mar 30 2005 | Viewed: 1670 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Federico Garcia Lorca
Poem: Before the Dawn

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