The Goring and the Death

The Goring and the Death

by Federico García Lorca

At five in the afternoon.
It was just five in the afternoon.
A boy brought the white sheet
at five in the afternoon.
A basket of lime made ready
at five in the afternoon.
The rest was death and only death
at five in the afternoon.
 
The wind blew the cotton wool away
at five in the afternoon.
And oxide scattered nickel and glass
at five in the afternoon.
Now the dove and the leopard fight
at five in the afternoon.
And a thigh with a desolate horn
at five in the afternoon.
The bass-pipe sound began
at five in the afternoon.
The bells of arsenic, the smoke
at five in the afternoon.
Silent crowds on corners
at five in the afternoon.
And only the bull with risen heart!
at five in the afternoon.
When the snow-sweat appeared
at five in the afternoon.
when the arena was splashed with iodine
at five in the afternoon.
death laid its eggs in the wound
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
At just five in the afternoon.

A coffin on wheels for his bed
at five in the afternoon.
Bones and flutes sound in his ear
at five in the afternoon.
Now the bull bellows on his brow
at five in the afternoon.
The room glows with agony
at five in the afternoon.
Now out of distance gangrene comes
at five in the afternoon.
Trumpets of lilies for the green groin
at five in the afternoon.
Wounds burning like suns
at five in the afternoon,
and the people smashing windows
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
Ay, what a fearful five in the afternoon!
It was five on every clock!
It was five of a dark afternoon!

Translated by A. S. Kline



In the afternoon at five.
It was afternoon, exactly at five.
A boy brought in the white sheet
in the afternoon at five.
A basket of lime was standing ready  
in the afternoon at five.
The rest was death and only death
in the afternoon at five.
The wind carried off the balls of lint
in the afternoon at five.
And the chloride glittered nickel and crystal
in the afternoon at five.
Now the dove struggles and the leopard
in the afternoon at five.
And a gored thigh with the bull's horn
in the afternoon at five.
There began the sound of a bass string
in the afternoon at five.
The bells of arsenic and the smoke
in the afternoon at five.
In the corner groups of silence
in the afternoon at five.
And the bull stood alone with head held high
in the afternoon at five.
When the snowy sweat was starting
in the afternoon at five.
when the sand was covered with iodine
in the afternoon at five.
Death laid her eggs in the wound
in the afternoon at five.
In the afternoon at five.
In the afternoon exactly at five.

A coffin on wheels is the bed  
in the afternoon at five.
Bones and flutes sound in his ears
in the afternoon at five.
The bull was bellowing in his face  
in the afternoon at five.
The room was rainbowed with agony  
in the afternoon at five.
Already gangrene comes from afar  
in the afternoon at five.
A lily trumpet through his green loins
in the afternoon at five.
The wounds were burnng like suns  
in the afternoon at five.
and the crowd broke the windows  
in the afternoon at five.
In the afternoon at five.
How terrible this afternoon at five!
It was five o'clock by all the watches!
The afternoon was in shadow at five!

Translated by Brian Cole

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Miscellany


Other poems by Federico García Lorca (read randomly)

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