I've conflated, translated, transposed, and stretched this strange vision of Federico Garcia Lorca into English for you, my dearest of readers. Una breve poema por San Valentin:
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In March,
you'll march off to the moon,
shedding your shadow
as you go. The prairies turn
unreal. Look -
it's raining white birds! And I am lost
in your forest, shouting open sesame.
How childish. Open sesame.
wonderful.
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