Lovers in my wound’s landscape, overjoyed,
can watch the reeds bend in the crossing currents,
can drink from red pools in the honeyed thigh.
But hurry, let’s entwine ourselves as one,
our mouth broken, our soul bitten by love,
so time discovers us safely destroyed.
― Federico García Lorca, from “Sonnet or the Garden of Roses,” Sonnets of Dark Love & The Tamarit Diván. (Enitharmon Press; Bilingual edition January 1, 2017) Originally published 1940.