There is perhaps no other poet that inspires me with his strikingly unique and surreal imagery as Federico García Lorca. In his tribute, here is a small heavenly slice of that beauty that Spain produced and that Spain in its political turmoil destroyed:
Gacela of Unforseen Love
No one understood the perfume
of the dark magnolia of your womb.
Nobody knew that you tormented
a hummingbird of love between your teeth.
A thousand Persian little horses fell asleep
in the plaza with moon of your forehead,
while through four nights I embraced
your waist, enemy of the snow.
Between plaster and jasmins, your glance
was a pale branch of seeds.
I sought in my heart to give you
the ivory letters that say “siempre”,
“siempre”, “siempre” : garden of my agony,
your body elusive always,
that blood of your veins in my mouth,
your mouth already lightless for my death.