Federico Garcia Lorca

The Ballad of the Salt-Water

The sea smiles far-off. Spume-teeth, sky-lips. 'What do you sell, troubled child, child with naked breasts?' 'Sir, I sell salt-waters of the sea.' 'What do you carry, dark child, mingled with your blood?' 'Sir, I carry salt-waters of the sea.' 'These tears of brine where do they come from, mother?' 'Sir, I cry salt-waters of the sea.' 'Heart, this deep bitterness, where does it rise from?' 'So bitter, the salt-waters of the sea!' The sea smiles far-off. Spume-teeth. Sky-lips.

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