Arbol, Arbol . . .

Federico Garcia Lorca

Tree, tree
dry and green.

The girl with the pretty face
is out picking olives.
The wind, playboy of towers,
grabs her around the waist.
Four riders passed by
on Andalusian ponies,
with blue and green jackets
and big, dark capes.
"Come to Cordoba, muchacha."
The girl won't listen to them.
Three young bullfighters passed,
slender in the waist,
with jackets the color of oranges
and swords of ancient silver.
"Come to Sevilla, muchacha."
The girl won't listen to them.
When the afternoon had turned
dark brown, with scattered light,
a young man passed by, wearing
roses and myrtle of the moon.
"Come to Granada, inuchacha."
And the girl won't listen to him.
The girl with the pretty face
keeps on picking olives
with the grey arm of the wind
wrapped around her waist.
Tree, tree
dry and green.

Next 10 Poems

• Federico Garcia Lorca : Balada Amarilla Iv
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Ballad Of The Moon
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Before The Dawn
• Federico Garcia Lorca : City That Does Not Sleep
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Ditty Of First Desire
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Fare Well
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Gacela Of The Dark Death
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Gacela Of The Dead Child
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Gacela Of Unforseen Love
• Federico Garcia Lorca : La Casada Infiel

Previous 10 Poems

• Federico Garcia Lorca : Adivinanza De La Guitarra
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Wreck Of The Hesperus, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Woods In Winter
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Witnesses, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : White Man's Foot, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Warning, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Walter Von Der Vogel Weid
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Voices Of The Night
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Village Blacksmith, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Ultima Thule