Desde mi humilde blog quería rendir homenaje a uno de los más grandes poetas españoles de todos los tiempos, Federico García Lorca, que el fin de …

POESIA DE OTROS AUTORES «VERDE QUE TE QUIERO VERDE-FEDERICO GARCÍA LORCA»

Hace casi una semana que no publico en el blog, y al ver este post de uno de mis suscriptores, al cual también estoy suscrito, no he dudado en “romper” ese parón..

Fue uno de los primeros poemas de Federico García Lorca que leí, allá a mediados de los años noventa, cuando mi señorita Felipa nos enseñaba de una manera totalmente revolucionaria la poesía de los grandes autores de nuestra historia. Le tengo especial recuerdo a esa maestra, a esta poesía, a esta manera tan maravillosa de enseñar, y a ese gran colegio, López Diéguez, que cumplió el centenar de años cuando me encontraba estudiando en el mismo.

Verde que te quiero Verde.

Feliz Martes!!! 🔝😎🪇

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It’s been almost a week since I last posted on the blog, and when I saw this post from one of my subscribers, to which I am also subscribed, I didn’t hesitate to stop that break….

It was one of the first poems by Federico García Lorca that I read, back in the mid-nineties, when my teacher Felipa taught us in a totally revolutionary way the poetry of the great authors of our history. I have special memories of that teacher, of this poetry, of this wonderful way of teaching, and of that great school, López Diéguez, which celebrated its centenary when I was studying there.

Green I love you Green.

And for those who are not shown translated the post through the link, here is the English translation to the beautiful poem:

Green I love you green.

Green wind. Green branches.

The ship on the sea

and the horse on the mountain.

With the shadow on her waist

she dreams on her railing

green flesh, green hair,

with eyes of cold silver.

Green that I love you green.

Under the gypsy moon

things are looking at her

And she can’t look at them.

Green I want you green.

Big frost stars

come with the shadow fish

that opens the path of dawn.

The fig tree rubs its wind

with the sandpaper of its branches,

and the mountain, cat marten,

bristles its sour little beaks.

But who will come, and which way…?

She is still on her railing,

green flesh, green hair,

dreaming in the bitter sea.

Compadre, I want to exchange

my horse for her house,

my saddle for her mirror,

my knife for your blanket.

Compadre, I come bleeding

from the ports of Cabra.

If I could, little boy,

this deal would be closed.

But I am no longer me,

and my house is no longer my house.

Compadre, I want to die

decently in my bed.

Steel, if possible,

with the sheets of holland.

Can’t you see the wound I have

from my chest to my throat?

Three hundred brown roses

Your white breastplate wears.

Your blood oozes and smells

around your girdle.

But I am no longer me.

Nor is my house my house any more.

Let me climb at least

Up to the high railings,

Let me go up, let me go up, let me go up

to the high railings.

Railings of the moon

where the water thunders.

The two compadres are already climbing

Towards the high railings.

Leaving a trail of blood.

Leaving a trail of tears.

Trembling on the rooftops

Tin lanterns.

A thousand crystal tambourines

wounded the dawn.

Green I love you green,

green wind, green branches.

The two compadres went up.

The long wind left

a strange taste in the mouth

of gall, mint and basil.

Compadre! Where is she, tell me?

Where is your bitter child?

How many times she waited for you!

How many times she waited for you!

fresh face, black hair,

On this green railing!

On the face of the cistern

the gypsy woman swayed.

Green flesh, green hair,

with eyes of cold silver.

An icicle of moon

holds her above the water.

The night became intimate

like a small square.

Drunken civil guards

at the door were knocking.

Green I want you green.

Green wind. Green branches.

The ship on the sea.

And the horse on the mountain.

Federico García Lorca

Happy Tuesday!!! 🔝😎🪇