Here you will find the Poem If my hands could defoliate - Si Mis Manos Pudieran Deshojar of poet Federico García Lorca
If my hands could defoliate I pronounce your name on dark nights, when the stars come to drink on the moon and sleep in tufts of hidden fronds. And I feel myself hollow of passion and music. Crazy clock that sings dead ancient hours. I pronounce your name, in this dark night, and your name sounds more distant than ever. More distant that all stars and more doleful than a calm rain. Will I love you like then ever again? What blame has my heart? When the mist dissipates, what other passion may I expect? Will it be calm and pure? If only my fingers could defoliate the moon!
