World (Deutsche Übersetzung)
Text by Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936)
(Ode to the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar)

Night of the rooftops and the plant of the foot,
hissing in the dried eyes of the doves.
Algae and crystal running away transform
the shoulders of all cities in wet silver.
To murder the nightingale, three thousand
men came armed with shimmering knives.
Night of the white face. No night without face.
Beneath the sun and the moon. Sad night of the world.
Two opposed halves and a man who knows not
when his butterfly will leave the clocks.
World, you already know where you desolation will end.
For your endless horror of the bottomless hole.
Oh Lamb, imprisoned in three equal voices !
Unchangeable Sacrament of love and discipline !

Translated by Corrado Margutti