Romance Sonambulo

    Green,  you green.

    Green wind. Green branches.

    t on the sea

    and tain.

    it

    she dreams on her balcony,

    green flesh, her hair green,

    h eyes of cold silver.

    Green,  you green.

    Under the gypsy moon,

    all tching her

    and s see them.

    Green,  you green.

    Big  stars

    come he fish of shadow

    t opens the road of dawn.

    tree rubs its wind

    s branches,

    and t, cunning cat,

    bristles its brittle fibers.

    But who will come? And from where?

    Sill on her balcony

    green flesh, her hair green,

    dreaming in tter sea.

    --My friend, I  to trade

    my horse for her house,

    my saddle for her mirror,

    my knife for .

    My friend, I come bleeding

    from tes of Cabra.

    --If it were possible, my boy,

    Id  trade.

    But no I,

    nor is my house now my house.

    --My friend, I  to die

    decently in my bed.

    Of iron, if ts possible,

    s of fine chambray.

    Dont you see the wound I have

    from my c up to my t?

    --Your we s has grown

    ty dark brown roses.

    Your blood oozes and flees

    around the corners of your sash.

    But no I,

    nor is my house now my house.

    --Let me climb up, at least,

    up to the high balconies;

    Let me climb up! Let me,

    up to the green balconies.

    45

    Railings of the moon

    ter rumbles.

    Nowo friends climb up,

    up to the high balconies.

    Leaving a trail of blood.

    Leaving a trail of teardrops.

    tin bell vines

    rembling on the roofs.

    A tal tambourines

    struck at t.

    Green,  you green,

    green wind, green branches.

    two friends climbed up.

    tiff

    in trange taste

    of bile, of mint, and of basil

    My friend, well me--

    wter girl?

    imes sed for you!

    imes would s for you,

    cool face, black hair,

    on this green balcony!

    Over tern

    the gypsy girl was swinging,

    green flesh, her hair green,

    h eyes of cold silver.

    An icicle of moon

    er.

    t became intimate

    like a little plaza.

    Drunken quot;Guardias Civilesquot;

    he door.

    Green,  you green.

    Green wind. Green branches.

    t on the sea.

    And tain.