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According to Lorca, the "ghazals" of Hafiz
resemble most the Flamenco letras:
My heart has been ensnared
in your black tresses since childhood.
Not until death
will a bond so wonderful be undone.
Hafiz /Poet
I should have cut
my rose that day,
pure, passionate,
sombre-hued,
while the two golden
logs burned.
Lorca
When I pass by your door,
I say a Hail Mary,
as if you were dead.
Solea
Traditional
And no one will love you
nor will I,
for the damage you caused me...
I will compensate you.
Solea
Traditional
It wasn't the black of your hair
nor the brown beneath your eyes...
it was the passion of your
kisses that put chains on me.
Solea
Traditional
My mouth hurts and hurts me
from asking you, gitana,
if you love me..
Bulerias/Traditional
In my house
I am keeping a garden,
so I can sell flowers
for you if hard times come.
Bulerias
Traditional
The bell of mourning
tolled one;
until two I thought of the love
you gave to me.
As it tolled three,
I was crying.
Malagueñas
Antonio Chacon
On the street
of The Winds
I devoured you
down to your beauty
mark.
La Caita in "Vengo"
I put a cross on my chest
so the devil would not enter...
for... one day you entered there,
and it became a purgatory.
Solea
Popular
I don't know which is worse,
to love as I do,
or to have no heart at all.
Bulerias
Popular
You dress in red
while I dress myself in black,
thinking you have left me.
Tientos
Traditional
There is nothing left to see,
because the little boat that
was there has set sail and
gone away.
Solea
Traditional
There, still in my bed,
in the small hollow she left,
is the pin from her hair,
and the little comb she used
to hold it there
Solea
Traditional
The moon has a halo; my love has died.
Lorca
I want to live in Granada
because I like to hear
the bell of La Vela
as I fall asleep.
Media Granaina
In a green meadow I laid out
my handkerchief and three
roses appeared like three
evening stars.
The wedding is complete.
What a beautiful wedding!
God has blessed such a pretty star.
Alborea
Sometime, if only out of pity,
write to me sometime,
for my heart is so withered
with suffering that it can no
longer even feel pain.
Malaguena
La Trini
Even after death I am
bound to keep on loving you.
For a man loves too, when dead.
I love you from my soul, and
the soul never dies.
Fandangos
Traditional
Just as the forge becomes
a fire of gold,
So do my insides
when I remember you,
and I weep.
Martinete
Traditional
Virgin of Macarena,
the moon's reflection
shines on your dark little face.
There is no face like your face
nor sorrow like your sorrow
Saeta
Your fireplace is sad
because it has no fire.
If you are in need of
wood, cousin,
I will bring it to you,
I will bring it to you.
Tangos
Traditional
Malena had a little stand where
she sold sunflower seeds
to the little ones.
Malena of mine, Malena of mine...
dance a little buleria!
Bulerias
Traditional
She loosed her robe,
that I might see
her body, lissome as a tree.
The rosebud opened in that hour
and oh, the beauty of my flower.
Al Mutamid
Poet-King of Sevilla
I am going to Chipiona,
to my Uncle Picoco's bar,
where they sing and dance...
over there, where it makes
you go crazy.
Tientos
El Yunque
Though I tear off the
hands of my watch,
time will not stop.
Solea
Traditional
When I pass by your side
and your dress brushes against me,
a deep shudder runs through my bones.
Solea por Bulerias
Traditional
I went out to the fields to cry
like a mad man screaming,
and even the wind kept telling
me that you loved someone else.
Solea
Traditional
Though I have a well in my house,
I am dying of thirst
because the rope is not
long enough.
Tientos
Traditional
All who deserve it should
be stabbed in the heart,
for my guts ache from being
so good to you.
Solea
Traditional
I asked a wise man a question,
and he responded instantly...
"I too have fallen in love
and, though I am full
of wisdom... I too cry over
a woman."
Malagueña
Juan Breva
It's not the wind you
hear at your window,
it's the echo of my voice,
that, because I want you
so much, calls out to you in
the middle of the night.
Bulerias
Popular
How foolish of you,
how foolish,
for you to believe
that I love you
as before.
Romeras
Traditional
Even if they put
artillery cannons
in front of your door,
I would enter it,
though it cost me my life.
Alegrias
Traditional
Deep song (cante jondo) is truly deep, deeper than all the wells and oceans of the world. It comes from the first sob and the first kiss.
Lorca
The sun told the moon,
"go home little tramp,
what is a single woman doing
out at six in the morning?"
Rumba
"For us, learning to sing is like learning to talk. We have it in our blood, and your blood boils in you."
Dolores Agujetas
I don't know
what kind of spell
your bottom has over me...
When I look at you
it is as if you have
given me opium.
Colombianas
Traditional
My love you come so late
and leave so early,
I don't want, heart of mine,
such surgical visits.
Seguiriyas/Traditional
There is a door in my soul
that has no need of a key,
for it always remains open
and no one can close it on me.
Bulerias
Traditional
Make signals to me with your eyes,
for on some occasions
the eyes speak what
the tongue cannot utter.
Rumba
Popular
where this song comes from,
just say "Triana"...
I believe that should be enough..
Tangos de Triana
Popular
"When I sing as I please I taste blood in my mouth."
Tia Añica La Piriñaca
The night watchman on my street
wants to take my woman away...
tonight we will see about that,
with knife and pistol.
Tangos
El Indio Gitano
On that night in January,
who was it you ran out searching for,
like an unbridled colt?
Solea
Traditional
Nobody knows you. No. But I sing of you.
For posterity I sing of your profile and grace.
Of the signal maturity of your understanding.
Of your appetite for death and the taste of its mouth. Of the sadness of your once valiant joy.
It will be a long time, if ever, before there is born
an Andalusian so true, so rich in adventure.
I sing of his elegance with words that groan,
and I remember a sad breeze through the olive trees.
Lorca
Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias
To whatever kind of hell you go,
I have to follow you there...
because when I am in your presence
I carry heavenly glory with me.
Solea
Traditional
"The solea is the song from midnight to one in the morning, when you feel good, when your spirit is still calm and the tears aren't yet brimming at the corners of your eyes...The seguiriya, by contrast, is for two or three in the morning. Your pain is right up at the surface...you've got to lance it. It's a confession."
Pedro Peña
Guitarrista
If we could be alone
together in a room...
even if you told me
to drink poison,
I would do it.
Bulerias
Popular
When I saw her cry
I thought I would go crazy.
But later I understood
that she cried for another;
then it was I who cried.
Fandanguillos
Traditional
I long to be one of
the fine pearls on your
burnished earrings,
and kiss your beautiful mouth,
and bite your cheeks.
Who ordered you to be so pretty,
that even I am being compromised?
Colombianas
Traditional
Your father doubtless
was a confectioner,
for he made your lips
out of candy...
Piropo Andaluz
By the light of the little cigar
I saw your face.
I have never seen
carnations glow so crimson.
Siguiriyas
Traditional
The eyes of my dark one
are like my troubles;
black as my pain,
large as my sorrows.
Solea
Traditional
Pride and love
are fighting in my head.
In a war without mercy,
where death does not exist.
All that exists is one woman.
Taranto
Sung by Camaron de la Isla
I was saying yesterday evening
that there was no such thing as
a good woman.
I turned my head and saw
my mother standing there...
I began to weep from sorrow.
Fandangos Grandes
Traditional
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If one day I call you
and you don't come,
I could be killed,
I wouldn't feel a
thing.
Little companion of
my soul, I wouldn't feel
a thing.
Si algun dia yo te llamara
y tu no vinieras,
aunque la muerte me diera,
no la sintiera.
Compañerita de mi alma,
no la sintiera.
Seguiriyas/Popular
It is better to die with the blood gushing from you,
than to live with it dead in your veins.
Lorca
The blood in my heart flourishes
like an open spring.
Lorca
I've already told you...
don't ever go to the same mass
that I go to.
You won't pray and I won't pray.
We will be without piety.
Solea
Traditional They say all the 'Juans'
look just like the devil...
but my little boy Juan
looks just like Saint Anthony.
Bulerias
Popular
You dress in red
while I dress myself in black,
thinking you have left me.
Tientos
Traditional
You have two beauty marks
one near your lips
and the other - you know where
To console me my friends say
visit your lover's tomb.
Has she a tomb, I ask,
other than in my breast?
Ibn Sa'id
Poet
You have such large eyes,
as big as millstones,
and they grind up hearts
like so many grains of wheat.
Alegrias
Traditional
Your love is like the wind,
and mine like the stone
that never moves.
Solea por Buleria
Traditional
Ole ole ole...ole ole!
I am going to devour all of you...
down to your beauty marks,
devour you,
devour you..
Tangos
Popular
If I don't come in this life
I will come in death.
I will walk to every tomb
until I find you.
Siguiriya
Traditional
Why have you sent me a gift of
seven sets of silverware?
I would have been content
with one small wooden spoon
for the time when you loved me.
Fandangos Grandes
Traditional
If the mother of my soul
looked up and saw me
as I see myself
she would die of sorrow.
Martinete
Traditional
Out in the sea
was a stone.
My girl sat down
to tell it her pains.
Only to the Earth
do I tell my troubles,
for nowhere in this world
do I find anyone to trust.
Andalusian Poem
At the tomb of my mother
I started shouting,
and I heard an echo on the wind;
do not call her it sighed,
the dead do not respond.
Malagueñas
Antonio Chacon
In my life I have known
the sorrows of this world.
Others often have a look
but not the knowing.
Solea
Traditional
And I’ll sleep at your feet
to watch over your dreams.
Naked, I’ll lie on the ground,
just like an animal in heat.
That’s what I am. I see you
And your beauty makes me burn.
Lorca
Blood Wedding
I'm throwing stones in the street,
and if they hit someone,
forgive me. It's just that I'm going
crazy from all this thinking.
Bulerias
Traditional
When I die
I ask this of you:
That you tie up my hands
With the strands of your
Black hair.
Siguiriyas
Traditional
I would like to die
Just to see if you would dress
In black for me.
Solea por Buleria
Traditional
I'm not sorry that you're leaving;
I'm just sorry that you're taking
all the blood from my veins.
Solea
I used to pray to Saint Anthony to find you
And bring you back to my side.
Now I pray to the Virgin of Carmen
That you'll leave and never come back!
Bulerias
Traditional
From your neck hangs a cross
Set in gold and ivory.
Let me die on it
And crucify myself there,
On that cross that hangs from your neck
Granaina
Traditional
For you it is as if I were made of wood;
you take little bites out of my flesh
and expect it not to hurt.
Bulerias
Traditional
I have bought three knives
For you to end my life,
So that I will not have to
Suffer the pain
Of hating you.
Solea
Traditional
The sheep were white and small
and the meadow green;
the little sheperd who watches over them,
mother, is dying of heartbreak.
Siguiriyas
Traditional
You say you don't love her,
don't even want to see her,
but the little path between
her house and yours
grows no weeds.
Siguiriyas
Traditional
I'm not sorry that you're leaving;
I'm just sorry that you're taking
all the blood from my veins.
Solea
Traditional
I used to pray to Saint Anthony to find you
And bring you back to my side.
Now I pray to the Virgin of Carmen
That you'll leave and never come back!
Bulerias
Traditional
For you it is as if I were made of wood;
you take little bites out of my flesh
and expect it not to hurt.
Bulerias
Traditional
Why have you sent me a gift of
seven sets of silverware?
I would have been content
with one small wooden spoon
for the time when you loved me.
Fandangos Grandes
Traditional
Out in the sea
was a stone.
My girl sat down
to tell it her pains.
Only to the Earth
do I tell my troubles,
for nowhere in this world
do I find anyone to trust.
Andalusian Poem
I am the wind,
you a bonfire,
and I long to burn
in your arms...
even fresh water
won't put out the flames.
Bulerias
Jose Monge Camaron
The sheep were white and smalland the meadow green;the little sheperd who watches over them,mother, is dying of heartbreak.
Ovejitas eran blancasy el pradito verde;el pastorcito, madre, que las guardade ducas se muere.
Siguiriyas/Tradition
"We should always recognize that the beauty of Spain is not serene,is not soft, not restful--it is ardent, burning, excessive, sometimes unpredictable; a beauty which, blinded by its own splendor'knocks its head against the wall'."
Federico Garcia Lorca
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