New York's daybreak contains four columns of mire and a hurricane of black doves paddling in putrescent waters.
New York's daybreak moans along the immense stairways, seeking between ledges tuberoses of delineated anguish.
Daybreak comes and no one recieves it in the mouth, for no morning nor hope is possible there.
At times, coins in furious swarms perforate and devour abandoned children.
The first to go out understand
in their bones that there will be no
paradise nor natural love;
they know they are going to the mire of figures and laws, to artless games, to fruitless sweat
Chains and noises bury the light in a shameless challenge of rootless science.
Along the suburbs sleepless crowds stagger, as though freshly delivered from a shipwreck of blood.
This is a translation of La Aurora from Poeta en Nueva York by Federico Garcìa Lorca. This is released on the double tribute CD Federico Garcìa Lorca - De Granada a la Luna (1998).