Like concentric ripples
over the water,
so in my heart
your words.
Like a bird that strikes
against the wind,
so on my lips
your kisses.
Like exposed fountains
opposing the evening,
so my dark eyes
over your flesh.
From "Madrigals" by Federico García Lorca, trans. by A.S. Kline
Siesta, Otto Schoff, c.1920s
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