Song of the Barren Orange Tree by Federico Garcia Lorca

Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.
Why was I born among mirrors?
The day walks in circles around me,
and the night copies me
in all its stars.
I want to live without seeing myself,
and I will dream that ants
and thistleburrs are my
leaves and my birds.
Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.

Translated by W.S. Merwin

Only Today by José Luis Hidalgo

Only today and never more
forever it dawns
on the sea.

Lighthouse in the cold, sand,
grey sea, waterless sea,
sea…

men go naked
along the black shore
with a confused sound
of disturbing chains…

But day is here…!
Already arrived in the joy
of this seagull newcomer.

From Troubled Times, 20th Century Spanish Poets, Prospice 15: Edited/Translated by J.C.R. Green, Albert Rowe, & Sandra MacGregor Hastie.

Cock by José Luis Hidalgo

As day is born, the red cock
violently raises his short crest like a wound,
spits on the sky that cloud of blood
that poets later sing of, in their verse.

He forgets the poets and crows as always,
opens his great yellow beak like an autumn,
your tough beak brother of the conquering spur
that tears your bone heart from the stone.

Waking thus, screaming, without hindrance,
rousing sleepy-eyed day,
tired of this night in which sad men
thought on the moon like a forgotten god.

Crow, crow, and forget me although I praise you,
rough human poet who cannot understand you.
Crow freely, fearlessly, without rhythm, without words,
while day melts in its celestial forge.

From Troubled Times, 20th Century Spanish Poets, Prospice 15: Edited/Translated by J.C.R. Green, Albert Rowe, & Sandra MacGregor Hastie.