Federico Garcia Lorca
translated by Alexander Strugov
Song of the Dry Orange Tree
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Сut off my shadow, woodcutter,
And set me free
From my nakedness, which
Is a shame to a tree.
It torments me, torments as the day
Multiplies in the mirrors.
High above me the night
Reflects my spangled image.
I don’t want to see it
I shall dream and I feel -
Husks and insects turn into
Singing birds and green leaves.
Сut off my shadow, woodcutter,
And set me free
From my nakedness, which
Is a shame to a tree.
Song of the Dry Orange Tree
© Copyright: Александр Юрьевич Стругов, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118110404118
Свидетельство о публикации №118110404118
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