Judith Deim: Casida de la Rosa

           

            

                    The rose was

                    not looking for the morning:

                    on its branch, almost immortal,

                    it was searching for another thing.

 

                    The rose was

                    not looking for wisdom, or for shadow:

                    the edge of flesh and dreaming,

                    it was searching for another thing.

 

                    The rose was

                    not looking for the rose, was

                    unmoving in the heavens:

                    it was searching for another thing.  

       

                                                García Lorca, Spanish (1898-1936) 

 

                        

           

            

                    The rose was

                    not looking for the morning:

                    on its branch, almost immortal,

                    it was searching for another thing.

 

                    The rose was

                    not looking for wisdom, or for shadow:

                    the edge of flesh and dreaming,

                    it was searching for another thing.

 

                    The rose was

                    not looking for the rose, was

                    unmoving in the heavens:

                    it was searching for another thing.  

       

                                                García Lorca, Spanish (1898-1936) 

 

                        

           

            

                    The rose was

                    not looking for the morning:

                    on its branch, almost immortal,

                    it was searching for another thing.

 

                    The rose was

                    not looking for wisdom, or for shadow:

                    the edge of flesh and dreaming,

                    it was searching for another thing.

 

                    The rose was

                    not looking for the rose, was

                    unmoving in the heavens:

                    it was searching for another thing.  

       

                                                García Lorca, Spanish (1898-1936) 

 

                        

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