“…And my heart opened like a flower under sky, its petals of desire, its stamens of dreams…” — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
I want to be a poet, from head to toe, living and dying by poetry. — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
Theatre is poetry that rises from the book and becomes human enough to talk and shout, weep and despair — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
My poetry is a game. My life is a game. But I am not a game. — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“Don't ask me any questions. I've seen how things that seek their way find their void instead.” — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
A poet must be a professor of the five senses and must open doors among them. — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“There are dewdrops on the nightingale's wings, bright beads of moon distilled by hope. On the marble fountain is the kiss of… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
“…I went away from your side, in love without knowing it. Now I don’t know how your eyes look, nor your hands,… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
“Like a snake, my heart has shed its skin. I hold it there in my hand, full of honey and wounds. The… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
The poem, the song, the picture, is only water drawn from the well of the people, and it should be given back… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“...My voice is stained with bloody light, and I see irises dry up at its touch; in my song I wear the… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
What shall I say about poetry? What shall I say about those clouds, or about the sky? Look; look at them; look… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“The round silence of night, one note on the stave of the infinite. Ripe with lost poems, I step naked into the… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
“Variación / Variations" El remanso de aire bajo la rama del eco. El remanso del agua bajo fronda de luceros. El remanso… — Federíco García Lorca Copy Share Image
While the poet wrestles with the horses on his brain and the sculptor wounds his eyes on the hard spark of alabaster,… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
Hour of Stars (1920) The round silence of night, one note on the stave of the infinite. Ripe with lost poems, I… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“The Poet Asks His Love to Write" Visceral love, living death, in vain, I wait your written word, and consider, with the… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
“Naked solitude with neither gesture nor word. Transparent in the orchard, smooth as oil on the hill. Silent solitude with neither fragrance… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
“...I see fetal sciences in you, mummified poems, and bones of my romantic secrets and old innocence. Shall I hang you on… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
“...My voice is stained with bloody light, and I see irises dry up at its touch; in my song I wear the finery of… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
A dead man in Spain is more alive than a dead man anywhere in the world. — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“Here I want to see those men of hard voice. Those that break horses and dominate rivers; those men of sonorous skeleton who sing… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
The one thing life has taught me is that most people spend their lives bottled up inside their houses doing the things they hate. — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
“Madrigals" 1 Like concentric ripples over the water, so in my heart your words. Like a bird that strikes against the wind, so on… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
At first glance, the rhythm may be confused with gaiety, but when you look more closely at the mechanism of social life and the… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
I'm hurt, hurt and humiliated beyond endurance, seeing the wheat ripening, the fountains never ceasing to give water, the sheep bearing hundreds oflambs, the… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves. — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
Oh honey, there's nothing new on this earth when it comes to what men and women do in the dark. First love is when… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
The terrible, cold, cruel part is Wall Street. Rivers of gold flow there from all over the earth, and death comes with it. There,… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
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… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
