Ditty Of First Desire

In the green morning
I wanted to be a heart.
A heart.

And in the ripe evening
I wanted to be a nightingale.
A nightingale.

(Soul,
turn orange-colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.)

In the vivid morning
I wanted to be myself.
A heart.

And at the evening's end
I wanted to be my voice.
A nightingale.

Soul,
turn orange-colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.

by Federico García Lorca

Comments (5)

This should have been the poem on the main page today.
Wow- - What a wonderful write ! !
awsome. excellent. mind blowing
In the moments when desire fills you up with joy and takes one to a dream like world, those moments are precious. So artistically expressed in this poem.
i believe it is the soul's singing