STONE SILENCEYesterday at the very time I was writing something about seeing, I received an e-mail from my old friend Gary Gasser in which he reminded me of a poem both of us have liked very much for a long time. “The Little Mute Boy” by Federico Garzia Lorca has been stuck in my mind for years. The poem is as beautiful in English as it is in the original Spanish. I went out looking for the appropriate photograph for the day and found several.
The Little Mute Boy
The little boy was looking for his voice.
(The king of the crickets had it.)
In a drop of water
the little boy was looking for his voice.
I do not want it for speaking with;
I will make a ring of it
so that he may wear my silence
on his little finger
In a drop of water
the little boy was looking for his voice.
(The captive voice, far away,
put on a cricket's clothes.)
El Nino Mudo
El niño busca su voz.
(La tenía el rey de los grillos.)
En una gota de agua
buscaba su voz el niño.
No la quiero para hablar;
me haré con ella un anillo
que llevará mi silencio
en su dedo pequenito.
En una gota de agua
buscaba su voz el niño.
(La voz cautiva, a lo lejos,
se ponia un traje de grillo.)
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