THE GORING AND THE DEATH
In the afternoon at five.
It was afternoon, exactly at five.
A boy brought in the white sheet
in the afternoon at five.
A basket of lime was standing ready
in the afternoon at five.
The rest was death and only death
in the afternoon at five.
The wind carried off the balls of lint
in the afternoon at five.
And the chloride glittered nickel and crystal
in the afternoon at five.
Now the dove struggles and the leopard
in the afternoon at five.
And a gored thigh with the bull's horn
in the afternoon at five.
There began the sound of a bass string
in the afternoon at five.
The bells of arsenic and the smoke
in the afternoon at five.
In the corner groups of silence
in the afternoon at five.
And the bull stood alone with head held high
in the afternoon at five.
When the snowy sweat was starting
in the afternoon at five.
when the sand was covered with iodine
in the afternoon at five.
Death laid her eggs in the wound
in the afternoon at five.
In the afternoon at five.
In the afternoon exactly at five.
A coffin on wheels is the bed
in the afternoon at five.
Bones and flutes sound in his ears
in the afternoon at five.
The bull was bellowing in his face
in the afternoon at five.
The room was rainbowed with agony
in the afternoon at five.
Already gangrene comes from afar
in the afternoon at five.
A lily trumpet through his green loins
in the afternoon at five.
The wounds were burnng like suns
in the afternoon at five.
and the crowd broke the windows
in the afternoon at five.
In the afternoon at five.
How terrible this afternoon at five!
It was five o'clock by all the watches!
The afternoon was in shadow at five!
Federico García Lorca, 1935
Translation by Brian Cole