Federico Garcia Lorca

When they murdered him,they went everywhere To cemeteries,to caffees, to churches But they didn`t find him! No! He wasn`t there! They never found him! The trees cried when he died The trees from the garden of forbidden desires The roses cried when he died The roses of sad poet`s garden Now he stands in Plaza de Santa Ana And a secret voice of hidden love whispers- It whispers to the tourists:Green! I love you greenly! Only the wind, the sun, the moon,the stars, The flowers, the gypsies and the poets Hear his words of blood and gold