of and intelligence.

a great torero in the ring!

a good peasant in the sierra!

le he sheaves!

he spurs!

ender he dew!

a!

remendous he final

banderillas of darkness!

but now end.

nohe grass

open h sure fingers

the flower of his skull.

and now singing;

singing along marshes and meadows,

sliden on frozen hos,

faltering soulles in t

stoumbling over a thousand hoofs

like a long, dark, sad tongue,

to form a pool of agony

close to tarry guadalquivir.

oe wall of spain!

oh, black bull of sorrow!

oh, hard blood of ignacio!

oingale of his veins!

no.

i see it!

no cain it,

no s,

no frost of lig,

nor song nor deluge og we lilies,

no glass can cover mit h silver.

no.

i see it!

stone is a forehead where dreames grieve

curving ers and frozen cypresses.

stone is a so bear time

rees formed of tears and ribbons and planets.

i ohe waves

raising tender riddle arms,

to avoid being caugone

heir blood.

for stone gathers seed and clouds,

skeleton larks and wolves of penumbra:

but yields not sounds nor crystals nor fire,

only bull rings and bull rings and more bull rings walls.

noone.

all is finis is emplate his face:

death pale sulphur

and aur.

all is finisrates h.

t,

and love, soaked tears of snow,

self on the herd.

is tenctles down.

e are which fades away,

ingales

and being filled hless holes.

true!

nobody sings he coer,

nobody pricks terrifies t.

not the round eyes

to see a c.

to see those men of hard voice.

t break e rivers;

ton who sing

.

to see tone.

before th broken reins.

i to kno

for tain stripped doh.

i to s like a river

s and deep shores,

to take t looses itself

ing of the bulls.

loses itself in the moon

bull,

loses itself in t song of fishes

and in te t of frozen smoke.

i dont to cover h handkerchiefs

t used to th he carries.

go, ignacio, feel not t bellowing

sleep, fly, rest: even the sea dies!

t knoree,

nor ts in your own house.

teoon do not know you

because you have dead forever.

tone does not know you

nor ttered.

your silent memory does not know you

because you have died forever

tumn e snails,

misty grapes and clustered hills,

but no one o your eyes

because you have died forever.

because you have died for ever,

like all th,

like all tten

in a heap of lifeless dogs.

nobady kno i sing of you.

for posterity i sing of your profile and grace.

of turity of your understanding.

of your appetite for deataste of its mouth.

of t gaiety.

it ime, if ever, before there is bo

an andalusian so true, so ricure.

i sing of groan,

and i remember a sad breeze trees.