21.05.2024
Federico García Lorca - Tres historias del viento Лирицс транслатион то енглисх
Translation
Three Stories of the Wind
I
Over the burning hill
the wind came red
and when it reached the river
it turned green, green.
Then it will turn purple,
yellow and...
It will be a stretched out rainbow
over the fields.
II
The wind has stalled.
In the sky, the burning sun.
On earth,
the quivering algae
of the poplars.
And my heart
trembling.
At five o'clock in the afternoon,
the wind has totally stopped.
No birds.
III
In the evening, the breeze
is rippling
like the hair
of some frisky girls.
Like the little bumps
of some old boards.
Then the breeze
gushes like water
and spills out,
like a white balm,
through the rocky canyons,
and at last, it faints
when it collides with
the harshness of the mountain.
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