* WOUNDS OF LOVE *
This light, this devouring fire.
This gray landscape around me.
This pain by a single idea.
This anguish of sky, world and time.
This tears of blood that decorates
lira pulseless and lubricious tea.
This weight of the sea that hits me.
This scorpion that dwells on my chest.
garland of love, bed hurt,
where no dream, dream your presence
among the ruins of my heart sunk.
And while I seek the wisdom summit
give me your heart lying valley
with hemlock and bitter passion of science.
Federico García Lorca
* love * Wounds
Be loving you, a thirst not quenched,
Be yourself, to have your love deep
eternal thirst of a liquid drunk,
the water of your being in which I sink.
This dagger feel immense as
thousand wounds caused me and my world
see nothing is clear and pay
enormous affection for this bum.
Love, love hurtful poison,
flagellates to reason and gives pain,
perpetual desolation, sad shame.
These wounds of love, withered flowers
are my tragic life sentence
anchored live silent sorrow.
Piceda
Fabiana 
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