SONG OF THE RIDER
(from the Spanish of Federico García Lorca)
Córdoba.
Lonely and far away.
Black pony, big moon,
olives in my saddle-bag.
Though I know the roads
I shall never get to Córdoba.
Over the plain, through the wind,
black pony, red moon.
Death is watching me
from the towers of Córdoba.
God, how long the road is!
How brave my pony!
Oh God, that death should await me
before I ever get to Córdoba!
Córdoba.
Lonely and far away.
