I sing your restless longing for the statue, your fear of the feelings that await you in the street. I sing the small sea siren who sings to you, riding her bicycle of corals and conches. But above all I sing a common thought that joins us in the dark and golden hours. The light that blinds our eyes is not art. Rather it is love, friendship, crossed swords.
Interpretation
The quote explores the deep connections of love and friendship that transcend fear and longing.
In this quote, Federico Garcia Lorca uses rich imagery to convey the profound emotions connected to love, friendship, and the shared human experience. He juxtaposes the restlessness of longing with the beauty of relationships that unite people, suggesting that amidst darkness and uncertainty, it is love and camaraderie that illuminate our lives, transcending mere appreciation of art.
In practice
This quote can be shared during a heartfelt toast at a wedding to celebrate love and friendship.
The wounds were burning like suns at five in the afternoon, and the crowd broke the windows At five in the afternoon. Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon! It was five by all the clocks! It was five in the shade of the afternoon!
There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog.
The poem, the song, the picture, is only water drawn from the well of the people, and it should be given back to them in a cup of beauty so that they may drink - and in drinking understand themselves.
Death laid its eggs in the wound
The two elements the traveler first captures in the big city are extra human architecture and furious rhythm. Geometry and anguish.
New York is something awful, something monstrous. I like to walk the streets, lost, but I recognize that New York is the world's greatest lie. New York is Senegal with machines.
Fool, not to know that love endures no tie,_x000D_ _x000D_ And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.
He knew only that his child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke.
Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure From your doors of gold and fame, Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger! But leave me a little love.
Was she really beautiful? Was she at least what they call attractive? She was exasperation, she was torture.
And yet ... But what if ... I want to do something impossible. Something astounding and unheard of. I want to scrub the moss off the Space Shuttle and fly Julie to the moon and colonise it, or float a capsized cruise ship to some distant island where no one will protest us, or just harness the magic that brings me into the brains of the Living and use it to bring Julie into mine, because it's warm in here, it's quiet and lovely, and in here we aren't an absurd juxtaposition, we are perfect.
It is staggering that God should love sinners, yet it is true.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.