Poets From Spain

"choppy and unabsorbed a set of results as we have seen, during the last few years, in those poets who have used Lorca, whole and unassimilated, corrupting the fiery purities of his Spanish into a grotesque of English."

"I remember that Federico García Lorca was always asking me to read my lines, my poetry, and yet in the middle of my reading, he would say, "Stop, stop! Don't go on, lest you influence me!""

"Enamored of the work of the poet Federico Garcia Lorca, Anna Margolin undertook to learn Spanish."

"it takes quite a talent for a playwright to internalize and remain distant at the same time. I think that is why all the great playwrights like Shakespeare, García Lorca, and several others have been poets as well."

"Well, [Lorca had] a gift for gab. For example, he makes striking metaphors, but I think he makes striking metaphors for him, because I think that his world was mostly verbal. I think that he was fond of playing words against each other, the contrast of words, but I wonder if he knew what he was doing."

"I suppose he had the good luck to be executed, no? I had an hour's chat with him in Buenos Aires. He struck me as a kind of play actor, no? Living up to a certain role. I mean, being a professional Andalusian... But in the case of Lorca, it was very strange because I lived in Andalusia and the Andalusians aren't a bit like that. His were stage Andalusians. Maybe he thought that in Buenos Aires he had to live up to that character, but in Andalusia, people are not like that. In fact, if you are in Andalusia, if you are talking to a man of letters and you speak to him about bullfights, he'll say, 'Oh well, that sort of this pleases people, I suppose, but really the torero works in no danger whatsoever.' Because they are bored by these things, because every writer is bored by the local color in his own country. Well, when I met Lorca, he was being a professional Andalusian... Besides, Lorca wanted to astonish us. He said to me that he was very troubled about a very important figure in the contemporary world. A character in whom he could see all the tragedy of American life. And then he went on in this way until I asked him who was this character and it turned out this character was Mickey Mouse. I suppose he was trying to be clever. And I thought, 'That's the kind of thing you say when you are very, very young and you want to astonish somebody.' But after all, he was a grown man, he had no need, he could have talked in a different way. But when he started in about Mickey Mouse being a symbol of America, there was a friend of mine there and he looked at me and I looked at him and we both walked away because we were too old for that kind of game, no? Even at that time."

"Las heridas quemaban como soles a las cinco de la tarde, y el gentío rompía las ventanas a las cinco de la tarde. A las cinco de la tarde. ¡Ay qué terribles cinco de la tarde! ¡Eran las cinco en todos los relojes! ¡Eran las cinco en sombra de la tarde!"

"Siempre has sido lista. Has visto lo malo de las gentes a cien leguas... Pero los hijos son los hijos. Ahora estás ciega."

"Las viejas vemos a través de las paredes."

"¡No me mires más! Si quieres te daré mis ojos, que son frescos, y mis espaldas para que te compongas la joroba que tienes."

"Un muerto en España está más vivo como muerto que en ningún sitio del mundo."

"El remanso del aire bajo la rama del eco.El remanso del agua bajo fronda de luceros.El remanso de tu boca bajo espesura de besos."

"Como no me he preocupado de nacer, no me preocupo de morir."

"Verte desnuda es recordar la Tierra."

"No te conoce el toro ni la higuera, ni caballos ni hormigas de tu casa. No te conoce el niño ni la tarde porque te has muerto para siempre.No te conoce el lomo de la piedra, ni el raso negro donde te destrozas. No te conoce tu recuerdo mudo porque te has muerto para siempre.El otoño vendrá con caracolas, uva de niebla y montes agrupados, pero nadie querrá mirar tus ojos porque te has muerto para siempre.Porque te has muerto para siempre, como todos los muertos de la Tierra, como todos los muertos que se olvidan en un montón de perros apagados.No te conoce nadie. No. Pero yo te canto. Yo canto para luego tu perfil y tu gracia. La madurez insigne de tu conocimiento. Tu apetencia de muerte y el gusto de su boca. La tristeza que tuvo tu valiente alegría."

"Pero ya duerme sin fin. Ya los musgos y la hierba abren con dedos seguros la flor de su calavera. Y su sangre ya viene cantando: cantando por marismas y praderas, resbalando por cuernos ateridos, vacilando sin alma por la niebla, tropezando con miles de pezuñas como una larga, oscura, triste lengua, para formar un charco de agonía junto al Guadalquivir de las estrellas. ¡Oh blanco muro de España! ¡Oh negro toro de pena! ¡Oh sangre dura de Ignacio! ¡Oh ruiseñor de sus venas!"

"Los caballos negros son. Las herraduras son negras. Sobre las capas relucen manchas de tinta y de cera. Tienen, por eso no lloran, de plomo las calaveras. Con el alma de charol vienen por la carretera."

"¡Que no quiero verla!Dile a la luna que venga, que no quiero ver la sangre de Ignacio sobre la arena.¡Que no quiero verla!"

"Verde que te quiero verde. Verde viento. Verdes ramas. El barco sobre la mar y el caballo en la montaña."

"Caballito negro. ¿Dónde llevas tu jinete muerto?"

"If the soul has not reached the state of unitive love, it is necessary for it to make acts of love, as well in the active as in the contemplative life. But when it has reached it, it is not requisite it should occupy itself in other and exterior duties — unless they be matters of obligation — which might hinder, were it but for a moment, the life of love in God, though they may minister greatly to His service; because an instant of pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and the soul, and more profitable to the Church, than all other good works together, though it may seem as if nothing were done."

"En una noche oscura, con ansias, en amores inflamada, ¡oh dichosa ventura!, salí sin ser notada, estando ya mi casa sosegada;"

"In the happy night, In secret, when none saw me, Nor I beheld aught, Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart."

"Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn, Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!"

"Upon my flowery breast Kept wholly for Himself alone There He stayed sleeping And I caressed Him And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.The breeze blew from the turret as I parted His locks. With His gentle hand He wounded my neck And caused all my senses to be suspended."

"I remained, lost in oblivion; My face I reclined on the Beloved. All ceased and I abandoned myself, Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies."

"In search of my Love I will go over mountains and strands; I will gather no flowers, I will fear no wild beasts; And pass by the mighty and the frontiers. ~ 3"

"A thousand graces diffusing He passed through the groves in haste, And merely regarding them As He passed Clothed them with His beauty. ~ 5"

"Reveal Thy presence, And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me, Behold the malady Of love is incurable Except in Thy presence and before Thy face. ~ 11"

"O crystal well! Oh that on Thy silvered surface Thou wouldest mirror forth at once Those eyes desired Which are outlined in my heart! ~ 12"

"My Beloved is the mountains, The solitary wooded valleys, The strange islands, The roaring torrents, The whisper of the amorous gales; The tranquil night At the approaches of the dawn, The silent music, The murmuring solitude, The supper which revives, and enkindles love. ~ 14 & 15"

"O killing north wind, cease! Come, south wind, that awakenest love! Blow through my garden, And let its odours flow, And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers. ~ 17"

"The bride has entered The pleasant and desirable garden, And there reposes to her heart’s content; Her neck reclining On the sweet arms of the Beloved. ~ 22"

"There He taught me the science full of sweetness. And there I gave to Him Myself without reserve; There I promised to be His bride. ~ 27"

"My soul is occupied, And all my substance in His service; Now I guard no flock, Nor have I any other employment: My sole occupation is love. ~ 28"

"If, then, on the common land I am no longer seen or found, You will say that I am lost; That, being enamoured, I lost myself; and yet was found. ~ 29"

"When Thou didst regard me, Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace: For this didst Thou love me again, And thereby mine eyes did merit To adore what in Thee they saw. ~ 32"

"Despise me not, For if I was swarthy once Thou canst regard me now; Since Thou hast regarded me, Grace and beauty hast Thou given me. ~ 33"

"The little white dove Has returned to the ark with the bough; And now the turtle-dove Its desired mate On the green banks has found. ~ 34"

"In solitude she lived, And in solitude built her nest; And in solitude, alone Hath the Beloved guided her, In solitude also wounded with love. ~ 35"

"Let us rejoice, O my Beloved! Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty, To the mountain and the hill, Where the pure water flows: Let us enter into the heart of the thicket. ~ 36"

"We shall go at once To the deep caverns of the rock Which are all secret, There we shall enter in And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate. ~ 37"

"There thou wilt show me That which my soul desired; And there Thou wilt give at once, O Thou, my life! That which Thou gavest me the other day. ~ 38"

"The breathing of the air, The song of the sweet nightingale, The grove and its beauty In the serene night, With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains. ~ 39"

"I have said that God is pleased with nothing but love; but before I explain this, it will be as well to set forth the grounds on which the assertion rests. All our works, and all our labours, how grand soever they may be, are nothing in the sight of God, for we can give Him nothing, neither can we by them fulfil His desire, which is the growth of our soul. As to Himself He desires nothing of this, for He has need of nothing, and so, if He is pleased with anything it is with the growth of the soul; and as there is no way in which the soul can grow but in becoming in a manner equal to Him, for this reason only is He pleased with our love. It is the property of love to place him who loves on an equality with the object of his love. Hence the soul, because of its perfect love, is called the bride of the Son of God, which signifies equality with Him. In this equality and friendship all things are common, as the Bridegroom Himself said to His disciples: I have called you friends, because all things, whatsoever I have heard of my Father, I have made known to you."

"My sole occupation is love. All my occupation now is the practice of the love of God, all the powers of soul and body, memory, understanding, and will, interior and exterior senses, the desires of spirit and of sense, all work in and by love. All I do is done in love; all I suffer, I suffer in the sweetness of love."

"When the soul has arrived at this state all the acts of its spiritual and sensual nature, whether active or passive, and of whatever kind they may be, always occasion an increase of love and delight in God: even the act of prayer and communion with God, which was once carried on by reflections and divers other methods, is now wholly an act of love. So much so is this the case that the soul may always say, whether occupied with temporal or spiritual things, "My sole occupation is love." Happy life! happy state! and happy the soul which has attained to it!"

"There is nothing better or more necessary than love."

"When the soul, then, in any degree possesses the spirit of solitary love, we must not interfere with it. We should inflict a grievous wrong upon it, and upon the Church also, if we were to occupy it, were it only for a moment, in exterior or active duties, however important they might be. When God Himself adjures all not to waken it from its love, who shall venture to do so, and be blameless? In a word, it is for this love that we are all created. Let those men of zeal, who think by their preaching and exterior works to convert the world, consider that they would be much more edifying to the Church, and more pleasing unto God — setting aside the good example they would give if they would spend at least one half their time in prayer, even though they may have not attained to the state of unitive love."

"I have said this to explain the stanza that follows, in which the soul replies to those who call in question its holy tranquillity, who will have it wholly occupied with outward duties, that its light may shine before the world: these persons have no conception of the fibres and the unseen root whence the sap is drawn, and which nourish the fruit."