Ditty Of First Desire

Poem By Federico García Lorca

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.

Comments about Ditty Of First Desire

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


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54 total ratings

Other poems of GARCÍA LORCA

City That Does Not Sleep

In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins.
The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream,

Before The Dawn

But like love
the archers
are blind

Ballad Of The Moon

translated by Will Kirkland

The moon came into the forge
in her bustle of flowering nard.

Cantos Nuevos

Dice la tarde: '¡Tengo sed de sombra!'
Dice la luna: '¡Yo, sed de luceros!'
La fuente cristalina pide labios
y suspira el viento.

Gacela Of The Dark Death

I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of cemetries.
I want to sleep the dream of that child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.

Adivinanza De La Guitarra

En la redonda
encrucijada,
seis doncellas
bailan.