― Lorca
In the garden
To watch
The Moon face
In black water,
So lovely,
Trembling
In the dark...
Yet when I touch it
It departs.
In the same way
I saw your face
Gleam
In the darkness
Above me.
The light flared
But quickly
Disappeared...
So sad how you flee
And hide from me.
Silent as the Moon
In your quiet afternoon,
Solitary and white
In your starry heights.