(5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936 / Fuente Vaqueros)

Before The Dawn

But like love
the archers
are blind

Upon the green night,
the piercing saetas
leave traces of warm
lily.

The keel of the moon
breaks through purple clouds
and their quivers
fill with dew.

Ay, but like love
the archers
are blind!

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Comments (26)

" Ay, but like love the archers are blind" Great theme with equally great conclusion.Worth deserving modern poem of the day. Congrats.
There is an old saying that 'Love is Blind', but that is not a desirable thing for an archer, who must accurately make his mark! A lovely poem from the pen of Federico Garcia Lorca.
A pleasure to read this marvelous poem again.
Love, like the will to power, sharpens itself to a point. Both are gambles...they run the risk of rending themselves from essences that breathe everywhere in the Creation.
The keel of the moon breaks through purple clouds and their quivers fill with dew.....outstanding conceptualization. Touchingly penned. Beautiful poem.
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