Monday, April 13, 2009

Poetry Month

The Moon Wakes

   When the moon sails out
the bells fade into stillness
and there emerge the pathways
that can’t be penetrated.
   When the moon sails out
the water hides earth’s surface,
the heart feels like an island
in the infinite silence.
   Nobody eats an orange
under the moon's fullness.
It is correct to eat, then,
green and icy fruit.
   When the moon sails out
with a hundred identical faces,
the coins made of silver
sob in your pocket.
--Federico Garcia Lorca (translated from the Spanish by A. S. Kline)

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