SONG OF THE STILL GARDENER

What you didn’t suspect was
she lives trembling in the air.

In a treasury of the day
which you scarcely touch.

Moments come and go laden
with no one to look at them.

They come broken, but unspoilt
the event-seeds emerging.

She talks of things and
People you do not hear.

The world is her fountain
fresh, distinct and constant.

In a treasury of the day
which you scarcely touch.

Her paradise of pure silence
Is in our torrents of blood.

But we have only two eyes
to find her in our channels.

In a treasury of the day
which you scarcely touch.

What you didn’t suspect was
she lives trembling in the air.

Our garden now connected
by an overhanging perfume.

With every page I dreamed
A different kind of dream.

 

David Scanlon – England – (1963 – )

García Lorca, F. (2018) Collected Poems: New Translations. In Spanish and translated to English by David Scanlon. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, Spain. SONG OF THE STILL GARDENER. Page Number 99.

CANCIÓN DEL JARDINERO INMÓVIL

Lo que no sospechaste
vive y tiembla en el aire.

Al tesoro del día
apenas si tocáis.

Van y vienen cargados
sin que los mire nadie.

Vienen rotos, pero vírgenes
y hechos semilla salen.

Os hablan las cosas y
vosotros no escucháis.

El mundo es un surtidor
fresco, distinto y constante.

Al tesoro del día
apenas si tocáis.

Os veda el puro silencio
el torrente de la sangre.

Pero dos ojos tenéis
para remontar los cauces.

Al tesoro del día
apenas si tocáis.

Lo que no sospechaste
vive y tiembla en el aire.

El jardín se enlazaba
por sus perfumes estancados.

Cada hoja soñaba
un sueño diferente.

Federico García Lorca – Spain – (1898 - 1936)

García Lorca, F. (1920 – 1923)[1983] “Suites”. Ariel; Barcelona. (Poem)

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