may you give it to me and I not beg it from you


I want to cry my pain and I am telling you so you will love me and cry for me in a nightfall of nightingales with a dagger, with kisses and with you.

I want to kill the only witness to the assassination of my flowers and change my weeping and my sweating into an eternal mound of hard wheat.

May there never be an end to the the skein of I love you you love me always burning with day, scream, salt and old moon, may you give it to me and I not beg it from you it will remain for the death that casts not even a shadow for the shivering flesh.

Text: Frederico Garcia Lorca, The Poet Speaks the Truth,
an excerpt from Sonetos Del Amor Obscuro (1935-36).
Translated by David William Foster
Image: circa 1930s, Pacific Navy Mariners via Muscl_mc/Flickr

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