Federico Garcia Lorca - La casada infiel dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

The unfaithful wife

Foolish me, that brought her to the river
thinking she was a maiden,
but she had a husband.
 
It was on Santiago's night 1
and almost out of a sense of duty.
The street lights went out
and the crickets lit up.
On the last corners
I touched her sleeping breasts,
and suddenly they opened up
like wreaths of hyacinths.
The starch of his slip
resounded in my ear
like a fine piece of silk
shredded by ten knives.
Without silvery light on their tops
the trees have grown,
and an horizon of dogs
barks far away from the river.
 
Past the blackberry shrubs,
the rushes and the hawthorns,
under his head of hair
I made a hole in the silt.
I took off my necktie,
and she took off her dress.
Me, the belt with the revolver,
her, her four bodices.
no tuberose or seashell
have so smooth a face,
nor the moon reflected on glass
shines with such a radiance.
Her thighs ran away from me
like surprised fishes,
half of them full of embers,
half of them full of cold.
That night I ran through
the best of paths
riding a mother-of-pearl mare
without bridles or stirrups.
Because I'm a gentleman, I won't repeat
the things that she told me.
The light of understanding
makes me prudent with my words.
Dirty with sand and kisses,
I took her away from the river.
The air was fighting against
the lilies' swords.
 
I behaved like what I am,
a gipsy through and through.
I gifted her a big sewing box
made of straw-like satin,
and I didn't want to fall in love
because, having a husband
she told me she was a maiden
as I carried her to the river.
 

• 1. The 25th of July, commemoration of Apostle Santiago

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