The 35 best poems of Federico García Lorca
Federico García Lorca was a renowned Spanish poet, prose writer and playwright whose works were of great influence for the literature of the twentieth century, thus gaining a position in the famous ‘Generación del 27’.
His poems had the peculiarity of enchanting everyone who read them, due to the passion of his lyrics. Unfortunately, he was assassinated shortly before the Spanish civil war.
In the following lines you will find a compilation of the best poems by Federico García Lorca as a sample of his lyrics.
- Related article: "The 30 best short poems (by famous and anonymous authors)"
The most memorable poems of Federico García Lorca
As a tribute to his legacy, we have brought in this article a compilation of the best poems by Federico García Lorca, briefly discussed.
1. The poet talks on the phone with love
Your voice watered the dune of my chest
in the sweet wooden cabin.
For the south of my feet it was spring
and to the north of my forehead, a fern flower.
Light pine through the narrow space
sang without dawn and sowing
and my crying started for the first time
crowns of hope across the roof.
Sweet and distant voice poured by me.
Sweet and distant voice for me liked.
Distant and sweet deadened voice*.
Far as dark wounded deer.
Sweet as a sob in the snow.
Far away and sweet in the marrow tucked!
Powerful verses that speak about the overwhelming charm that a person can feel for someone who he loves. Even when that love is not completely rosy and there are things that can hurt.
2. Malagueña
(Cante jondo poem)
Death
go in and out
from the tavern.
Black horses pass
and sinister people
through the deep roads
of the guitar.
And there is a smell of salt
and female blood,
in the feverish tuberose
of the Marine.
And death
go in and out
and goes out and goes in
death
from the tavern.
A poem that reminds us of how death lurks around every corner, because it is an essential part of life that we cannot underestimate, even if it hurts. Lose someone or we are afraid to think about our death.
3. Rider song
Cordova.
Distant and alone.
Black jackfruit, big moon
and olives in my saddlebag.
Although he knows the ways
I will never get to Córdoba.
Through the plain, through the wind,
black jackfruit, red moon.
Death is watching me
from the towers of Córdoba.
Oh, how such a long way!
Oh my brave jackfruit!
Oh, death awaits me
before arriving in Córdoba!
Cordova.
Distant and alone.
Words dedicated to Córdoba. The land most loved by the poet, to which he sadly could not return. So we can see his regret at not seeing his landscapes again.
4. Love sores
This light, this devouring fire.
This grey scenary surrounds me.
This pain for just an idea.
This anguish of heaven, world and time.
This cry of blood that decorates
lyre without a pulse, lubricious tea.
This weight of the sea that hits me.
This scorpion that dwells on my chest.
They are a garland of love, a bed of the wounded,
where without sleep, I dream of your presence
among the ruins of my sunken chest.
And although I seek the summit of prudence
give me your heart, stretched valley
with hemlock and passion of bitter science.
That inexplicable love that makes us feel thousands of things, wonderful and terrifying at the same time. That makes us want to give everything and at the same time slows us down for fear of getting hurt.
5. The Aurora
The New York aurora has
four columns of silt
and a hurricane of black doves
that splash the rotten waters.
New York's aurora groans
down the huge stairs
searching between the edges
tuberose of anguish drawn.
The dawn arrives and nobody receives it in their mouth
because there is no tomorrow or possible hope.
Sometimes the coins in angry swarms
they drill and devour abandoned children.
The first to come out understand with their bones
that there will be no paradise or leafless loves;
they know they go to the mire of numbers and laws
to games without art, to sweats without fruit.
The light is buried by chains and noises
in shameless challenge of rootless sciences.
In the neighborhoods there are people who waver insomniac
like fresh out of a shipwreck of blood.
In this poem we can see how García Lorca describes your perception from the so-called 'Big Apple' when he decided to visit her. A setting where buildings and asphalt are the protagonists.
6. Madrigal
I looked into your eyes
when I was a child and good.
Your hands brushed me
And you gave me a kiss.
(The clocks have the same cadence,
And the nights have the same stars.)
And my heart opened
Like a flower under the sky
The petals of lust
And the dream stamens.
(The clocks have the same cadence,
And the nights have the same stars.)
In my room I sobbed
Like the prince of the story
By Estrellita de oro
That he left the tournaments.
(The clocks have the same cadence,
And the nights have the same stars.)
I walked away from your side
Loving you without knowing it.
I don't know what your eyes are like
Your hands or your hair.
It only remains on my forehead
The butterfly of the kiss.
(The clocks have the same cadence,And the nights have the same stars.)
A poem that tells us about the passion and the affliction that our first love leaves us. That love that we feel so fully within us that we think it will be eternal, without realizing that it is a phase of our life. youth.
7. Conch
They have brought me a conch.
Inside her he singsa sea of map. *My heart * fills with waterwith minnowsof shadow and silver.
They have brought me a conch.
A short children's poem with which we can invite children to participate in the world of poetry and literature.
8. It's true
Oh, what work it costs me
love you as I love you!
For your love the air hurts me
the heart
and the hat.
Who would buy me
this headband that I have
and this sadness of thread
white, to make handkerchiefs?
Oh, what work it costs me
love you as I love you!
A love that only brings pain for the person she loves. Unfortunately this is a more common scenario than you might think. Especially when love is unrequited.
9. Singer cafe
Crystal lamps
and green mirrors.
On the dark platform
the Parrala holds
a conversation
with death.
The flame,
does not come,
and he calls her back.
The people
sniff the sobs.
And in the green mirrors,
long silk tails
they move.
A reflection on those people who have a huge desire for death to claim them. Even reaching the point where despair is present when life is extended.
10. Waltz in the branches
A leaf fell
and two
and three.
A fish swam by the moon.
Water sleeps an hour
and the white sea sleeps a hundred.
The Lady
she was dead on the branch.
The nun
sang inside the grapefruit.
The girl
he went for the pine to the pineapple.
And the pine
I was looking for the nib of the trill.
But the nightingale
he cried his wounds around.
And I also
because a leaf fell
and two
and three.
And a crystal head
and a paper violin.
And the snow could with the world,
if the snow slept for a month.
and the branches fought with the world,
one by one,
two to two
and three to three.
Oh hard ivory of invisible meats!
Oh gulf without ants of dawn!
With mooo of the branches,
with the woe of the ladies
with the croo of frogs
and the yellow gloo of honey.
A shadow torso will arrive
crowned with laurel.
It will be heaven for the wind
hard as a wall
and the broken branches
they will go dancing with him.
One by one
around the moon,
two to two
Around the sun,
and three to three
so that the ivories sleep well.
A metaphor about how birds live their lives in trees and at the same time they are participants in various good and bad anecdotes of people.
11. Long spectrum
Long spectrum of shaken silver
the night wind sighing,
opened my old wound with a gray hand
and she walked away: I was wanting.
Wound of love that will give me life
perpetual blood and pure light gushing forth.
Crack in which Filomela is mute
it will have forest, pain and a soft nest.
Oh what a sweet rumor in my head!
I will lie down next to the simple flower
where your beauty floats without a soul.
And the wandering water will turn yellow,
while my blood runs in the undergrowth
wet and smelly from the shore.
It must be remembered that a spectrum is not necessarily the presence of a person who is surprised with all his soul, but they can be moments of happiness that they will not return and whose memory weighs.
12. Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint
Don't let me lose the wonder
of your statue eyes, nor the accent
that at night puts me on the cheek
the lonely rose of your breath.
I'm afraid of being on this shore
trunk without branches, and what I feel the most
is not having the flower, pulp or clay
for the worm of my suffering.
If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross and my wet pain,
if I am the dog of your lordship,
don't let me lose what I have gained
and decorate the waters of your river
with leaves of my alienated autumn.
That desire to be able to remember and relive the experiences that make us feel full and happy. But above all, the desire to have with us at all times that person who makes us feel special.
13. The poet's chest
You will never understand what I love you
because you sleep in me and you are asleep.
I hide you crying, persecuted
by a voice of piercing steel.
Norm that stirs the same meat and star
already pierces my aching chest
and the murky words have bitten
the wings of your severe spirit.
Group of people jump in the gardens
waiting for your body and my agony
in horses of light and green manes.
But she's still sleeping, my dear.
Hear my broken blood in the violins!
Look, they still haunt us!
No person can really know the magnitude of our feelings towards it. Well, everyone has a way of expressing what they carry inside.
14. Dance
La Carmen is dancing
through the streets of Seville.
She has white hair
and her pupils bright.
Girls
draw the curtains!
In her head it curls
a yellow snake,
and he goes dreaming in the dance
with gallants from other days.
Girls
draw the curtains!
The streets are deserted
and in the funds they guess,
Andalusian hearts
looking for old thorns.
Girls
draw the curtains!
A short but powerful poem that tells us about the emotional state of a person who has some kind of mental problem. Where it is the imagination of his happy days that remains, even if his actions are those of an unstable person.
15. Absent soul
The bull and the fig tree do not know you,
neither horses nor ants from your house.
The child does not know you nor the afternoon
because you have died forever.
The back of the stone does not know you,
nor the black satin where you break.
Your silent memory does not know you
because you have died forever.
Autumn will come with shells,
mist grape and grouped monks,
but no one will want to look into your eyes
because you have died forever.
Because you have died forever
like all the dead on Earth,
like all the dead who are forgotten
in a bunch of dull dogs.
Nobody knows you. No. But I sing to you.
I sing for your profile and your grace later.
The distinguished maturity of your knowledge.
Your desire for death and the taste of your mouth.
The sadness that your brave joy had.
It will take a long time to be born, if it is born,
an Andalusian so clear, so rich in adventure.
I sing its elegance with words that groan
and I remember a sad breeze through the olive trees.
A reference to those people who are "dead in life", who are carried away by empty promises or are carried away by ambition and end up becoming the shells of what they used to be.
16. Poem of the soleá
Dressed in black cloaks
think the world is small
and the heart is immense.
Dressed in black cloaks.
Think that the tender sigh
and the scream, they disappear
in the current of the wind.
Dressed in black cloaks.
The balcony was left open
and the dawn on the balcony
the whole sky came out.
Ay yayayayay,
than dressed in black cloaks!
That suffocating feeling that loneliness leaves us when we have lost someone or something important in our lives and we feel that there is nothing worthwhile to move forward with. Living in perpetual mourning.
17. The poet asks his love to write to him
Love of my guts, long live death,
in vain I wait for your written word
and I think, with the flower that withers,
that if I live without me I want to lose you.
The air is immortal. The inert stone
neither knows the shadow nor avoids it.
Inner heart don't need
the frozen honey that the moon pours.
But I suffered you. I tore my veins
tiger and dove, on your waist
in a duel of bites and lilies.
So fill my madness with words
or let me live in my serene
night of the soul forever dark.
A desperate call for the loved one to reciprocate that love that is burning him inside. This helps us reflect on the high expectations we may have for a person who cannot give us what we want.
18. The lizard is crying
The lizard is cryingThe lizard is crying.
The lizard and the lizardwith little white aprons.
Have lost inadvertentlyhis ring of betrothed.
Oh, his lead ring,oh, his lead ring!
A big sky without peopleride the birds in your balloon.
The sun, round captain,she wears a satin vest.
Look how old they are!How old are the lizards!
Oh, how they cry and cry,Oh, oh, how they are crying.
Another funny children's poem, which talks about the love between two people and how both can suffer from the situations that surround them. Thus remembering that couples must be together through thick and thin.
19. The unfaithful married woman
And that I took her to the riverbelieving that she was a girl,but she had a husband.
It was the night of Santiagoand almost by compromise.
The lanterns went outand the crickets were lit.
In the last cornersI touched her breasts asleep from her,and they suddenly opened up to melike bouquets of hyacinths.
The starch in her petticoatit sounded in my ear,like a piece of silktorn by ten knives.
No silver light in their glassesthe trees have grown,and a horizon of dogsbarks far from the river.
Past the blackberries,the reeds and thorns,under her head of hairI made a hole in the silt
I took off my tie.
She took off her dress.
I belt with revolver.
She laces four of her bodices.
Neither tuberose nor shells
their skin is so fine,
nor the crystals with moon
they sparkle with that brilliance.
Her thighs escaped me
like surprised fish,
half full of fire,
half full of cold.
That night i ran
the best of roads,
mounted on mother-of-pearl filly
without flanges and without stirrups.
I don't mean, by man,
the things she told me.
The light of understanding
It makes me very restrained.
Dirty with kisses and sand
I took her from the river.
With the air they fought
the swords of the lilies.
I behaved like what I am.
Like a real gypsy.
I gave him a sewing kit
large straw satin,
and she did not want to fall in love
because having a husband
she told me that she was a girl
When she took her to the river
An interesting story that tells us about what happens when we are in a relationship with someone who is married, but not knowing their marital status. The desperation and confusion to move on or finish it all.
20. Water, where are you going?
Water, where are you going?
Laughing I go down the river
by the sea.
Mar, where are you going?
Upriver I'm looking for
source where to rest.
Poplar, and you what will you do?
I don't want to tell you anything.
I... tremble!
What do I want, what do I not want,
by the river and by the sea?
(Four birds aimlessly
they are in the high poplar.)
A slightly confusing poem due to the way it expresses itself. But which makes us think about the decisions we make in life and the consequences they can generate. Which leads us to be paralyzed between continuing or stopping.
21. If my hands could strip
I pronounce your name
in the dark nights,
when the stars come
to drink on the moon
and the branches sleep
of the hidden fronds.
And I feel hollow
of passion and music.
Crazy clock that sings
dead old hours.
I speak your name
in this dark night,
and your name is familiar to me
further away than ever.
Farther than all the stars
and more painful than the gentle rain.
Will I ever love you like then?
What is my heart's fault?
If the fog clears
What other passion awaits me?
Will it be calm and pure?
If my fingers could
defoliate the moon !!
This poem lets us see clearly that feeling of loss and longing that merge into one when we miss a person we have loved and they are gone. Where we begin to question the past and envision an unpromising future in love.
22. Ballad of a July Day
Silver shells
They lead the oxen.
-Where are you going, my girl,
Of sun and snow?
-I'm going to the daisies
From the green meadow.
-The meadow is far away
And he is afraid.
-Outdoor and in the shade
My love is not afraid.
-Fear the sun, my child,
Of sun and snow.
-He left my hair
Now forever.
-Who are you, white girl.
Where you come from?
-I come from loves
And from the sources.
Silver shellsThey lead the oxen.
-What do you have in your mouth
What turns you on?
-My lover's star
That lives and dies.
-What are you wearing on your chest
So fine and light?
-My lover's sword
That lives and dies.
-What do you have in your eyes,
Black and solemn?
-My sad thought
That always hurts.
-Why are you wearing a cloak
Black of death?
-Oh, I'm the widow
Sad and without goods!
Of the Count of Laurel
Of the Laurels.
-Who are you looking for hereIf you love nobody?
-I'm looking for the count's bodyOf the Laurels.
-Are you looking for love,Aleve widow?You are looking for a loveThat I hope you find.
-Sky starsThey are my wants,Where will i find my loverWho lives and dies?
-He is dead in the water,Snow girl,Covered in nostalgiaAnd carnations.
-Oh! wandering knightOf the cypresses,A moonlit nightMy soul offers you.
-Ah Isis dreamer.Girl without honeysThe one in children's mouthsThe tale of him pours.I offer you my heart,Faint heart,Hurt by the eyesWomen's.
- Gallant gentleman,With God you stay.
-I'm going to look for the countOf the Laurels ...
-Goodbye my little maid,Sleeping rose,You go for loveAnd I to death.
Silver shellsThey lead the oxen.
-My heart bleedsLike a fountain.
A poem that reminds us a lot of those summer loves, intense and passionate but disturbingly short, that even if they no longer return, they always remain in our hearts as an indelible mark that is always strange.
23. Spring song
I
The happy children come out
From school,
Putting in the warm air
From April, tender songs.
What joy the deep
Silence from the alley!
A silence shattered
for laughter of new silver.
II
I'm on my way in the afternoon
Among flowers in the garden,
Leaving on the way
The water of my sadness.
On the lonely mountain
A village cemetery
It looks like a sown field
With skull beads.
And cypress trees have blossomed
Like giant heads
That with empty orbits
And greenish hair
Thoughtful and grieving
They contemplate the horizon.
Divine April, you are coming
Loaded with sun and essences
Filled with nests of gold
The flowery skulls!
Words that express that longing that spring offers us, where flowers grow again, more beautiful and stronger. But we can also see how people flourish on their new path.
24. Rose Garland Sonnet
That garland! early! I'm dying!
Knit quickly! sings! Groan! sings!
that the shadow clouds my throat
and again comes and a thousand the light of January.
Between what you love me and I love you,
star air and plant trembling,
thicket of anemones rises
with dark moan a whole year.
Enjoy the fresh landscape of my wound,
it breaks reeds and delicate streams.
She drinks spilled blood on the thigh of honey.
But soon! That united, linked,
mouth broken with love and a bitten soul,
time will find us shattered.
These verses tell us about loss. Either about death that is near or about losing a person who is about to leave our side. Then there is only one chance to be happy.
25. Lullaby for Rosalía Castro, dead.
Get up, girl friend,
the roosters of the day are already crowing!
Get up, my beloved,
because the wind howls, like a cow!
The plows come and go
from Santiago to Bethlehem.
From Belén to Santiago
an angel come in a boat.
A ship of fine silver
that brought pain from Galicia.
Galicia lying down and remains
full of sad herbs.
Herbs that cover your bed
with the black fountain of your hair.
Hair that goes to the sea
where the clouds stain their clear palms.
Get up, girl friend,
the roosters of the day are already crowing!
Get up, my beloved,
because the wind howls, like a cow!
A sonnet that shows the pain of losing a special person. So these words are a beautiful way to remember the memory of that person's life and their influence on our own life.
26. Lullaby
We already see you asleep.
Your boat is made of wood along the shore.
White princess of never.
Sleep for the dark night!
Body and land of snow.
Sleep at dawn, sleep!
You are already walking away asleep.
Your boat is mist, dream, by the shore!
The night where all things sleep and the tragedies that people want to hide during the day are hidden. Reminding us of that mystery effect that the night brings.
27. Silly song
Mother.
I want to be silver.
Son,
you will be very cold.
Mom, I want to be made out of water.
Son,
you will be very cold.
Mother.
Embroider me on your pillow.
Yes indeed!
Right now!
This nursery rhyme can serve as a cautionary tale for children who want things they don't need or want to rush their time to grow.
28. The kings of the deck
If your mother wants a king
the deck has four:
king of golds, king of cups,
king of spades, king of wands.
Run I get you,
run I grab you,
look that I fill you
muddy face.
From the olive tree
I retire,
of esparto
I turn away
of the vine
I regret
of having loved you so much.
Another of García Lorca's best-known children's poems, with which children can begin to analyze the structures corresponding to the poems.
29. Sunrise
My heavy heart
feel next to the dawn
the pain of their loves
and the dream of distances.
The light of dawn carries
hotbed of nostalgia
and sadness without eyes
from the marrow of the soul.
The great grave of the night
her black veil lifts
to hide with the day
the immense starry summit.
What will I do about these fields
picking up nests and branches,
surrounded by the aurora
and fills the soul with night!
What will I do if you have your eyes
dead in the clear lights
and it must not feel my flesh
the warmth of your looks!
Why did i lose you forever
on that clear afternoon?
Today my chest is dry
like a dull star.
A moment of reflection or questioning about the reasons why that love could never flourish in the expected way. Who will be to blame for the breakup?
30. The shadow of my soul
I've reached the line where nostalgia ceases,
and the drop of tears transforms
spirit alabaster.
The shadow of my soul!
The flake of pain ends,
but the reason and the substance remain
of my old noon of lips,
of my old noon of glances.
A murky maze
smoked stars
entangle my illusion almost withered.
The shadow of my soul!
And a hallucination milks my glances
I see the word crumbled love.
My nightingale, nightingale!
Do you still sing?
That moment when we realize how we have lived our life so far. The missed opportunities, the bad deeds and the hopes that still remain for a better future.
31. Inner ballad
The heart,
That i had at school
Where she was painted
The first primer,
It's on you,
Black night?
(Cold Cold,
Like the water
From the river.)
The first kiss
That she knew like a kiss and it was
For my lips children
Like fresh rain
It's on you,
Black night?
(Cold Cold
Like the water
From the river.)
My first verse.
The girl with the braids
That looked straight ahead
It's on you,
Black night?
(Cold Cold,
Like the water
From the river,)
But my heart
Gnawed at snakes,
The one who was hung
From the tree of knowledge,
It's on you,
Black night?
(Hot Hot,
Like the water
From the source.)
My wandering love,
Castle without firmness,
Of moldy shadows,
It's on you,
Black night?
(Hot Hot,
Like the water
From the source.)
Oh great pain!
You admit in your cave
Nothing but the shadow.
It's true,
Black night?
(Hot Hot,
Like the water
From the source.)
Oh lost heart!
Requiem aeternam!
Love experiences that will never happen again, but that left an indelible mark on the development of youth and the idea of love.
32. The silence
Hey, my son, the silence.
It's a wavy silence
a silence,
where valleys and echoes slide
and that bows the foreheads
to the ground.
Silence can have two sides, one full of peace and tranquility that lead us to reflection and a deafening side where we feel drowned, as if we were empty.
33. Gazelle of Unforeseen Love
No one understood the perfume
of the dark magnolia of your womb.
No one knew that you were martyring
a hummingbird of love between the teeth.
A thousand Persian horses fell asleep
in the square with the moon on your forehead,
while I linked four nights
your waist, enemy of the snow.
Between plaster and jasmine, your gaze
it was a pale bouquet of seeds.
I looked, to give you, for my chest
the ivory letters that always say.
Always, always: garden of my agony,
your fugitive body forever,
the blood of your veins in my mouth,
your mouth without light for my death.
One of the representations of what is known today as ‘toxic loves’, where a person promises you eternal love, when what he really does is take advantage of your goodness to feed his ego.
34. Love sores
This light, this devouring fire.
This grey scenary surrounds me.
This pain for just an idea.
This anguish of heaven, world and time.
This cry of blood that decorates
lyre without a pulse, lubricious tea.
This weight of the sea that hits me.
This scorpion that dwells on my chest.
They are a garland of love, a bed of the wounded,
where without sleep, I dream of your presence
among the ruins of my sunken chest.
And although I seek the summit of prudence
give me your heart, stretched valley
with hemlock and passion of bitter science.
Verses that evoke the tearing of a heart that loves a person who is far from you. Love in the distance is undoubtedly the most difficult of all, because you do not have a certainty of what actually happens.
35. The six strings
Guitar,
makes dreams cry.
The sob of souls
losses,
escapes through his mouth
round.
And like the tarantula
weaves a big star
to hunt sighs,
that float in your black
wooden cistern.
An ode to the power of guitars, which produce melodies capable of touching thousands of souls, regardless of the feeling that thrives in the person.
What is your favorite poem by Federico García Lorca? An artist who knew how to place a deep and palpable passion in each of his lyrics.
