Other Worlds: Spain
Federico García Lorca Centenary
Poetry
El torero
"No hubo príncipe en Sevilla
que comparársele pueda,
ni espada como su espada
ni corazón tan de veras.
su maravillosa fuerza
y como un torso de mármol
su dibujada prudencia.
Aire de Roma andaluza
le doraba la cabeza,
donde su risa era un nardo
de sal y de inteligencia"
"There was no prince in Seville
who could compare,
neither sword as his sword
nor heart as true.
Like a pride of lions
his wonderful strength
and like a torso of marble
his prudence drawn.
Air of Andalucian Rome
gilded his head,
where his laugh was a lily
of charm and intelligence."
Tardará mucho en nacer, si es que nace,
un andaluz tan claro, tan rico de aventura.
Yo canto su elegancia con palabras que gimen
y recuerdo una brisa triste por los olivos.
(de su obra:"Llanto por Ignacio Sánchez Mejías")
Ignacio Sánchez Mejías
Delayed much in being born, if he is born,
an Andalucian so noble, so honest.
I sing his elegance with words that moan
and memory a melancholy breeze for the olive trees.
(from his work: "Weeping for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías")
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