The Selected Poems

by Federico García Lorca, W.S. Merwin (Introduction), Donald Merriam Allen (Editor)

The Selected Poems of Federico García Lorca has introduced generations of readers to mesmerizing poetry since 1955. Lorca (1898-1937) is admired all over the world for the lyricism, immediacy and clarity of his poetry, as well as for his ability to encompass techniques of the symbolist movement with deeper psychological shadings. But Lorca's poems are, most of all, admired for their beauty. Undercurrents of his major influences--Spanish folk traditions from his native Andalusia and Granada, gypsy ballads, and his friends the surrealists Salvador Dali and Luis Bunuel--stream throughout Lorca's work. Poets represented here as translators are as diverse as Stephen Spender, Langston Hughes, Ben Belitt, William Jay Smith, and W.S. Merwin.

Genres: Poetry, Classics, Spanish Literature, Spain, Fiction, Literature, 20th Century

186 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1936

About the author

Born in Fuente Vaqueros, Granada, Spain, June 5 1898; died near Granada, August 19 1936, García Lorca is one of Spain's most deeply appreciated and highly revered poets and dramatists. His murder by the Nationalists at the start of the Spanish civil war brought sudden international fame, accompanied by an excess of political rhetoric which led a later generation to question his merits; after the inevitable slump, his reputation has recovered (largely with a shift in interest to the less obvious works). He must now be bracketed with Machado as one of the two greatest poets Spain has produced in the 20th century, and he is certainly Spain's greatest dramatist since the Golden Age.

Reviews

[Georgia Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

You can pretend you know Spanish by reading the even pages. Or stick to the odd pages with English translations by W. S. Merwin and other writers. Either way, you will be impelled to read them aloud.

Although it's hard to ignore that their author was murdered and his body hidden by the Fascists so no one could mourn, these poems don't leave me mournful. Not by a long shot. They affirm life and celebrate it. This is as true in his tribute to a famous bullfighter as in the much shorter poem "Farewell," which I quote in full here:

Farewell

If I die,
leave the balcony open.

The little boy is eating oranges
(From my balcony I can see him.)

The reaper is harvesting the wheat.
(From my balcony I can hear him.)

If I die,
leave the balcony open!

Putting aside small reservations with a few of the translations, most stay true to the original Spanish. Line breaks are hard to maintain. Yet, seeing the original Spanish poems and English translations more than compensates for small changes. The poems live on. That much is to be commended.

My edition shows Lorca looking more relaxed (and playful even) on the cover. His eyes shine not with pain but a desire for life. Even shut on a shelf, it reminds me of what is good.

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

"GAZEL DO AMOR DESESPERADO

A noite não quer vir
para que tu não venhas,
nem eu possa ir.

Porém eu irei,
embora um sol de lacraus me devore a fronte.

Porém tu virás
com a língua queimada por chuva de sal.

O dia não quer vir
para que tu não venhas,
nem eu possa ir.

Porém eu irei
entregando aos sapos meu cravo mordido.

Porém tu virás
pelas turvas cloacas da obscuridade.

O dia e a noite não querem vir
para que por ti morra
e tu morras por mim."

[Nercs]

پوتین برای سربازان جدید
نان
نفت
سقف بازداشتگاه نم کشیده
دست بند ده عدد
پول برق را باید بدهیم پول آب را جدا
پول گاز هم همین طور و دیگر هیچ...

[Michael Finocchiaro · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of Spain's greatest 20th century poets cut down in his prime by a homophobic Nazi regime, his work lives on as a testament to his aged soul and his delicate pen.

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have lost myself in the sea many tunes
with my ear full of freshly cut flowers,
with my tongue full of love awl agony.
I have lost myself in the sea many times
as I lose myself in the heart of certain children.

It has been a meandering weekend, laden with thoughts on consciousness and narrative, These thoughts led to a certain brooding. Most of the selected work here appeared lighter, odes to tranquility and affection. My soul wasn't overly callous for such but neither did it bloom.

These clipped lines embrace Spain's Moorish past. Not the Caliphate but traditions of poetry which rolled across deserts and seas. There were troubadours of the moment who found hope in the scent of flowers. Unfortunately the same tide of history which propels those sentiments brought something ugly his way.

[Anastasja Kostic · Rating 5 out of 5]

U početku mi se nisu dopale pesme , a onda sam naletela na ovu i još par pesama i oduševila sam se.

Crni su im konji
Crne potkovice
Na ogrtačima sijaju
mrlje mstila i voska
Nose, zato ne plaču
lobanje od olova.
Sa dušom crnom kao lak
idu drumom.
Pogureni i ćutljivi,
kuda prođu , naređuju
ćutanje tamne gume
i strah finog peska.
Idu kad im se prohte
i u glavi kriju
nejasnu astronomiju
nekonkretnih revolvera.

O ciganski grade!
Na uglovima zastave.
Mesec i tikva
sa slatkim od višanja.

O ciganski grade!
Ko te je video
a ne seća te se?
Grade bola i mošusa
sa tornjevima od vanile.
Kada bi došla noć,
oh, kakva noć, noćna noć,
Cigani su u kovačnicama
kovali sunce i strele.
Jedan smrtno ranjen konj
zvao je na svim vratima.

[Kyriakos Sorokkou]

Y si la muerte es la muerte,
¿qué será de los poetas
y de las cosas dormidas
que ya nadie las recuerda?
* * *
If death is death,
what then of poets
and the hibernating things
no one remembers? σελ. 2-3

An incredible collection. An instant five stars rating.

Αυτή η υπέροχη δίγλωσση έκδοση της σειράς Oxford World Classics, περιέχει τα καλύτερα από τα ποιήματα του μεγάλου Ισπανού ποιητή Φεδερίκο Γκαρθία Λόρκα.

Αυτό που κάνει αυτή τη συλλογή τόσο απολαυστική είναι που υπάρχει το ποίημα στην αριστερή σελίδα στο πρωτότυπο ισπανικό, και στα δεξιά η αγγλική μετάφραση.

Οι υπόλοιπες συλλογές με παράλληλα κείμενα είναι τα ποιήματα του Καβάφη με παράλληλο ελληνικό κείμενο, Ράινερ Μαρία Ρίλκε με παράλληλο γερμανικό, Ρεμπώ με γαλλικό, Τίβουλλος με λατινικό και άλλα.

Αυτή ήταν η πρώτη φορά που διάβασα κάτι στα ισπανικά πάνω από 1 σελίδα. Παρόλο που είχα τ' αγγλικό δίπλα διάβασα και το ισπανικό έτσι νιώθω εμπλούτισα το λεξιλόγιό μου στα Ισπανικά.

Tienen gotas de rocío
las alas del ruiseñor,
gotas claras de la luna
cuajadas por su ilusión
* * *
δροσοσταλίδες
σε φτερά αηδονιού
καθάριες σταγόνες φεγγαριού
σχηματισμένες απ' αυταπάτη σελ. 6-7



Αυτή η συλλογή περιέχει ποιήματα από το 1918 μέχρι το 1936 με πιο γνωστό τον Θρήνο[ς] για τον Ιγνάθιο Σάντσιεθ Μεχίας το οποίο μεταφράστηκε από τον Νίκο Γκάτσο και μελοποιήθηκε από τον Σταύρο Ξαρχάκο.

¡Qué gran torero en la plaza!
¡Qué gran serrano en la sierra!
¡Qué blando con las espigas!
¡Qué duro con las espuelas!
¡Qué tierno con el rocío!
¡Qué deslumbrante en la feria!
¡Qué tremendo con las últimas
banderillas de tiniebla!

Τι ταυρομάχος στην αρένα!
Τι βράχος πάνω στα βουνά!
Τι απαλός με τ'άγρια στάχυα!
Τι δυνατός με τα σπιρούνια!
Τι τρυφερός με την δροσιά!
Τι λαμπερός στα πανηγύρια!
Τι τρομερός με τις στερνές
Του σκοταδιού τις μπαντερίλιες! σελ. 162


Παραισθησιογόνος Ταυρομάχος Σαλβαδόρ Νταλι

Ήταν ωραία έκπληξη όταν ανακάλυψα ότι ο Λόρκα έγραψε και έξι ποιήματα στα Γαλικιακά, γλώσσα που μιλιέται στην Γαλικία της Ισπανίας και είναι σαν γέφυρα μεταξύ των Ισπανικών και των Πορτογαλικών.

Pol-a testa de Galicia
xa ven salaiando a i-alba.
A Virxen mira pra o mar
dend'a porta da súa casa.

Κυκλώνει την άκρη της Γαλικίας
τρεμουλιαστή ομίχλη εδώ.
Απ' το ξωπόρτι της
η Παναγιά αγναντεύει προς τη θάλασσα

Καλό είναι να σημειώσω ότι τα ποιήματα που συμπεριλαμβάνονται σ' αυτό το βιβλίο παρμένα από τη συλλογή Ποιητής στη Νέα Υόρκη έχουν έντονες σουρεαλιστικές εικόνες και παραστάσεις. Σημειωτέον ότι ο Λόρκα ήταν καλός φίλος με τον μεγάλο σουρεαλιστή ζωγράφο Σαλβαδόρ Νταλί.

El rey de Harlem
Con una cuchara
arrancaba los ojos a los cocodrilos
y golpeaba el trasero de los monos.
Con una cuchara.

Μ' ένα κουτάλι
πήρε μάτια κροκοδείλων
και χτύπησε των πιθήκων τα οπίσθια
μ' ένα κουτάλι.


Διαβάζοντας αυτό το βιβλίο μπορώ να πω με βεβαιότητα ότι ο Λόρκα είναι από τους αγαπημένους μου ποιητές και δραματουργούς.

Ο Λόρκα είναι πιο γνωστός ως ο συγγραφέας του Ματωμένου Γάμου, αλλά τις μεγάλες του τραγωδίες τις έγραψε μόλις τη δεκαετία του 30. Από το 1918 μέχρι το (άδικο) τέλος της ζωής του έγραφε ποιήματα, αβαν-γκαρντ, σουρεαλιστικά, θρήνους, τσιγγάνικα τραγούδια, σονέτα, κουκλοθέατρο και πολλά άλλα.

Μεγάλη απουσία η Ωδή στον Σαλβαντόρ Νταλί

Ω Σαλβαδόρ Νταλί, με τη φωνή σου που ’ναι ελαιογραφία!
Δεν επαινώ την ατελή σου πινελιά σαν είσουν έφηβος
ούτε το χρώμα σου που όλο φλερτάρει αποχρώσεις του καιρού σου,
πλην ανυμνώ τους φόβους σου μες στην πεπερασμένη αιωνιότητα.

Σημείωση: Εκτός από την Ωδή όλες οι υπόλοιπες μεταφράσεις στο πόδι είναι δικές μου.

Αγοράστε το! Απολαύστε το!

[Maryam · Rating 3 out of 5]

لولا
زیر درختان نارنج
کهنه های کتان را می شوید
چشمانی از سبزه داردو
آوازی از بنفشه ها

دریغا عشق
زیر درخت نارنج پر شکوفه

آب جویبار
می رفت سرشار از آفتاب
وآواز می خواند
گنجشکی به زیتون زار

دریغا عشق
زیر درخت نارنج پر شکوفه

پس آنگاه که لولا
صابون را یکسره تمام کند
گاوبازان از راه خواهند رسید

دریغا عشق
زیر درخت نارنج پر شکوفه

[Marwa Eletriby]

أمضي وأنا جاهل بالماء
باحثًا عن موت يفنيني ضوءه

[مهسا · Rating 5 out of 5]

از لحاظ روحی نیاز داشتم این کتاب هیچ وقت تموم نشه.

[Flo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Verlaine
La canción,
que nunca diré,
se ha dormido en mis labios.
La canción,
que nunca diré.

Sobre las madreselvas
había una luciérnaga,
y la luna picaba
con un rayo en el agua.

Entonces yo soñé,
la canción,
que nunca diré.

Canción llena de labios
y de cauces lejanos.

Canción llena de horas
perdidas en la sombra.

Canción de estrella viva
sobre un perpetuo día.

*

Verlaine
The song
I’ll never sing
fell silent on my lips.
The song
I’ll never sing.

A firefly
was on the honeysuckle
and a moonbeam
stabbed the water.

So then I dreamt
the song
I’ll never sing.

Song filled with lips,
welling up from afar.

Song filled with hours
counted off in the shade.

Song of the star alive
above perpetual day.


from Canciones (Songs)

[Patrick Gibson · Rating 4 out of 5]

...because he is amazing and beautiful. Here's why:

"Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful!
We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth
or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead dahlias.
But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams do not exist;
flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths
in a thicket of new veins,
and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever
and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulders."

[George Ballin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lorca might be the most inspiring writer that I´ve ever read. This collection is well translated and features some of his best/best known poetic works. Everyone interested in poetry should have read Lorca and I think this might be a good starting point. He´s more a magician than a poet to me.

[Paula M. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sob o aloendro sem lua,
que feia estavas e nua.

Teu corpo busca em meu mapa
o amarelo de Espanha.

Que feia estavas, francesa,
no amargo do aloendro.

Sobre o teu corpo atirei
a capa do meu talento.

Vermelha e verde, vermelha.
Aqui somos outra gente!

(Nu)


Sublime!

[Amr Mohamed · Rating 3 out of 5]

لم اقرء من قبل للشاعر لوركا وكان الجزء الاول او مقدمة الكتاب مفيدة حيث أنها سردت اختصارا لحياة لوركا وكيف قتل في الحرب الأهلية ولم يعثر علي جثته وكانت له قصيدة يتوقع فيها انه سيقتل ولن يجدوا جسده

عرفت اني قتيل
فتشوا المقاهي والمقابر والكنائس
فتحوا البراميل والخزائن
سرقوا ثلاثة هياكل عظمية
لينتزعوا أسنانها الذهبية
ولم يعثروا علي!!

2.5

[Lauren · Rating 4 out of 5]

THE SELECTED POEMS of Federico García Lorca, translated from the Spanish (Spain) by committee, New Directions, 1961.

Knowing the biography (or pieces of it) of an artist, before actually knowing their art.

This was the case for me with García Lorca's work - unfortunately one of the prime things I knew about him is how he was assassinated and buried in 1936, and after years of searching mass graves, his remains have still not been recovered.

A seminal Spanish poet, musician, playwright, and artist. Murdered for his leftist political beliefs and his sexual orientation under the fascist coup of Francisco Franco at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War.

I picked up this 1961 New Directions collection of his work a few years ago. My recent foray into Spanish Civil War history revived the book from the huge TBR, and the time was right to read his words. This dual language edition collects his life's work, 1921-1936 - long ballads, lyrical stories with folkloric elements of Andalusia, his education in New York City, his return to Spain. Repetition of phrases (his use of anaphora makes these poems sing when read aloud!), strong visuals, and rhythm.

It's a selection to whet the appetite for more. It worked on me, as I spent some more birthday gift cards on another collection, A SEASON IN GRANADA: Uncollected Poems and Prose, and have added more of his work to my wishlist.

[Edita · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the meadow
my heart danced

(a cypress shadow
on the wind)

and a tree unplaited
the dew breeze.
Breeze,
silver to the touch!

I said: do you remember?

(The star
the rose
do not concern me.)

Remember?

Lost language!
Language
without horizons!

Remember?

In the meadow
my heart danced

(a cypress shadow
on the wind).

[Steven Godin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Masterful. Essential reading for the poet connoisseur.

[Ehsan · Rating 4 out of 5]

«و بوی نمک
و خون زن،
در این همه
مریم تبدار کرانه.»
شاید برهنه بخواند با رمه‌های مادیان.

[Dan Arama · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The first time
I didn’t know you.
The second time I did.

Tell me
if the air tells you so.

One sharp morning
I grew sad
and was seized
by the impulse to laugh.

I didn’t know you.
But you knew me.
Yes I knew you.
You didn’t know me.

Now a month stretches
between us two,
no feeling,
like a screen of grey days.

The first time
I didn’t know you.
The second time I did."

There are not many things in this world so natural and beautiful like Lorca's poetry.

[Edita · Rating 5 out of 5]

Today in my heart
a vague trembling of stars,
but my way is lost
in the soul of the mist.
Light lops my wings.
The hurt of my sadness
moistens memories
in thought’s fountain.

[Rachel (Kalanadi) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Most of these poems were more surrealist than I cared to penetrate or interpret, but it was fascinating to know more about Lorca.

[Saman]

فدريكو گارسيا لوركا، درخشان‌ترين و بزرگ‌ترين شاعر اسپانيا در سال 1899 در فونته واكه‌روس در نزديكي شهر گرانادا ديده به جهان گشود. درباره‌ي او بسيار نوشته‌اند و خواهند نوشت

ايرانيان نيز اشعار او را از طريق بازسرايي‌هايي كه مرحوم شاملو انجام داد مي‌شناسند. تنها نكته‌اي كه اين ميان مي‌ماند و حتا خود شاملو صلاح ندانست كه بيان كند و در جاي ديگري از منابع فارسي نيز نخواندم اين بود كه، لوركا يك هم‌جنس باز بود و بزرگ‌ترين و مشهورترين شعري كه مرثيه‌وار است را براي معشوق خود (ايگناسيو سانچز مخياس) گاوباز، سروده است با اين كلمات

در ساعت پنج عصر
درست ساعت پنج عصر بود
پسر پارچه‌ي سفيدي را آورد
در ساعت پنج عصر
سبدي از پيش آهك آماده
در ساعت پنج عصر

و الي آخر

[Negar sabet · Rating 2 out of 5]

با تصوري كه از لوركا داشتم انتظار ميرفت تجربه ي بهتري از خوندن كتاب ترجمه نصيبم بشه و خب اينطور پيش نرفت! احتمالاً بايد با ترجمه ي شاملو يه مقايسه اي داشته باشم.

[Greta · Rating 4 out of 5]

If I die
leave the balcony open

[Mana Ravanbod · Rating 5 out of 5]

لورکای بیژن الهی شاید آخرین کاری بود که در سالهای جست‌و‌جو از او دیدم و چندروزی همان چاپ قدیم پیش دستم بود و بعد هم رغبتی به چاپ دهه هشتادش نداشتم چون می‌دانستم خالی از ظرافت‌های مترجم کتاب‌بلدش چاپ شده و برلی همین به ترغیب همو منصور ملکی چندخطی داده به روزنامه‌ای که یعنی بیژن راضی و مطلع نبوده.
از آن روزهای خواندن این کتاب در اتاق کوچک خالی خفتن‌گاهی گرم پای کوه بی‌درختی حاشیه‌ی شهر، سوگی از مردن لورکا به دل داشتم __که جوان افتاد، قربانی حسادت و حقارت مردمانی که رگ عصبیت‌شان بدنامی ابدی به بار آورد__ و در سرم ایده‌ی روشن چیزی کمیاب: کتاب شاعر؛ در ذهنم «کتاب شاعر» چیزی بود مثل همین «کتاب لورکا»: برگزیدن شعرهایی از دوره‌های شاعریِ شاعر، آنهایی که شیوه و طرز کارش را نشان دهند و تن به ترجمه، اشاراتی در واگشودن گرفت‌و‌گیرهای ترجمه، چند متن منثور از شاعر که نمودار فکرش و نگرشش و رهروی‌اش باشد، و بعد چند متن دیگر که زندگی‌اش، خط سیر روحی‌اش و طرز شعری‌اش را نشانمان بدهد __مقدمه‌ای کوتاه از مترجم/گردآورنده هم بیاید اول کتاب، همراه کتابنامه‌ای دقیق و نمایه‌ای دوزبانه در انتهای کتاب، با تصویرهایی انفسی و آفاقی در اینجا و آنجا.
روزها با خودم خیال کتاب رمبو می‌کردم، والری، ریلکه، بودلر، الیوت، پونژ، تراکل، ژابس و ... کتابهایی که «طرح» یا «کوشش» حوصله‌سوزی باشند برای به دست دادن تجسد شعری و لغویِ شاعران اصیل به هیئت زبان فارسی __فارسیِ زنده‌ی امروز.
خب گفتن ندارد که نه مثال‌های متعدد داریم (همین کتاب هم خودش کار دارد) نه مترجم قهّار جز دو‌-سه تایی.
.
چاپ جدید را هم که دست گرفتم ورق زدم حوصله نداشتم بروم بیینم چقدر منطبق است بر چاپ اصل.

[Alberto · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lorca's poetry should be read aloud, in Spanish, perhaps in a smoky Tablao with full flamenco accompaniment. This edition is good in that the English translation appears opposite the original. And they're pretty good at conveying the mystery and passion of Lorca's beloved Andalucia. The selection is a decent display of Lorca's experiments in the region's poetic traditions. But ultimately, it's almost like watching black and white TV after you've experienced high definition color.

Even if you don't understand Spanish, try to experience a reading - you can hear Lorca's mastery of his language. For example, in "Cancion del jinete," the words gallop along just as urgently as the poems lone rider, dark except for the moon at his shoulder.

[Ala'a Ahmed · Rating 5 out of 5]

لوركا ! الشاعر الأسباني الشاب الجميل ..
عشت معه أياما جميلة مع بعض مما قرأت من أشاعره الحزينة والجميلة والأخري التي يمدح فيها الاندلس وبلاد الاندلس وغرناطة وعشقه لها !
أصبح لوركا من الشعراء المفضلين لدي !


The Silence

Listen , My Child, to the Silence.
an Undulating Silence,
a Silence
That turns Valleys and echoes Slippery,
Bends foreheads
Toward the Ground.

أرع الصمت سمعك يا بني
أنه صمت متموج - صمت تنسرب فيه أصداء وأودية
وتعنو له الجباه مطأطئة
نحو الثرى

[Koiras · Rating 4 out of 5]

درک اشعار لورکا بدون دونستن سابقه ش ممکن نیست
و من متأسّفانه اوّلین و دومین باری که این کتاب رو خوندم خیلی کم ازش میدونستم

[Clayton · Rating 3 out of 5]

So this was good, but it wasn't great. First of all, it is a translation from Spanish. Translations of poetry are hard to pull of because poetic devices don't translate well. Some do, but some don't. I liked it because it contains the earthy, elemental images that other Spanish/Latin-American writing possesses. It is definitely kin to the magic realism prose of Central and South America. But the symbolism and allusions in Lorca's poetry are difficult to understand and explicate. Most of the innumerable symbols and allusions seemingly represent goings-on in early twentieth century Spain, a subject that I am unfamiliar with. His use of personification is first-rate though. Perhaps better than Neruda.