Federico Garcia Lorca

Turn, Heart!
Turn.

Through the woods of love
you will see no one.
You will pour out bright fountains.
In the green
you will find the immense rose
of Always.

And you will say: ‘Love! Love!
without your wound
being closed.

Turn,
Heart!
Turn.

We travel

over a mirror
without silver,
over a crystal
without cloud.
If the lilies were to grow
upside down,
is the roses were to grow
upside down,
if all the roots
were to face the stars
and the dead not shut
their eyes,

we would be like swans.