I will always be on the side of those who have nothing and who are not even allowed to enjoy the nothing they have in peace. Federico Garcia Lorca More Quotes by Federico Garcia Lorca More Quotes From Federico Garcia Lorca The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant things. Hot southern sands yearning for white camellias. Weeps arrow without target evening without morning and the first dead bird on the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart mortally wounded by five swords. Federico Garcia Lorca guitar heart morning In Spain, the dead are more alive than the dead of any other country in the world. Federico Garcia Lorca spain alive country Only mystery allows us to live, only mystery. Federico Garcia Lorca mystery Not for a moment, beautiful aged Walt Whitman, have I failed to see your beard full of butterflies. Federico Garcia Lorca beard butterfly beautiful What's the furthest corner? Because that's where I want to be, alone with the only thing that I love. Federico Garcia Lorca wants-to-be-alone corners want But hurry, let's entwine ourselves as one, our mouth broken, our soul bitten by love, so time discovers us safely destroyed. Federico Garcia Lorca broken soul mouths A poet must be a professor of the five senses and must open doors among them. Federico Garcia Lorca five-senses poet doors ...I am the immense shadow of my tears Federico Garcia Lorca immense shadow tears We're all curious about what might hurt us. Federico Garcia Lorca curious hurt might Moon like a large stainedglass window that breaks on the ocean. Federico Garcia Lorca ocean moon window The only things that the United States has given to the world are skyscrapers, jazz, and cocktails. That is all. And in Cuba, in our America, they make much better cocktails. Federico Garcia Lorca cuba united-states america Old women can see through walls. Federico Garcia Lorca old-woman wall There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Federico Garcia Lorca poetic battle heaven What shall I say about poetry? What shall I say about those clouds, or about the sky? Look; look at them; look at it! And nothing more. Don't you understand anything about poetry? Leave that to the critics and the professors. For neither you, nor I, nor any poet knows what poetry is. Federico Garcia Lorca poetry sky clouds I put my head out of my window and see how much the wind’s knife wants to slice it off. On this unseen guillotine, I’ve placed the eyeless head of all my desires. Federico Garcia Lorca knives desire wind My God, I have come with the seeds of questions. I planted them, and they never flowered. Federico Garcia Lorca seeds There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog. Federico Garcia Lorca swans fog rain I was lucky enough to see with my own eyes the recent stock-market crash, where they lost several million dollars, a rabble of dead money that went sliding off into the sea. Federico Garcia Lorca dollars eye sea My poetry is a game. My life is a game. But I am not a game. Federico Garcia Lorca life-is-a-game life-is games I'll always be happy if they'd leave me alone in that delightful and unknown furthest corner, apart from struggles, putrefactions and nonsense; the ultimate corner of sugar and toast, where the mermaids catch the branches of the willows and the heart opens to a flute's sharpness. Federico Garcia Lorca mermaid struggle heart
