Great Poem: "The Dawn" By Federico Garcia Lorca

It amazes me that this poem was written 80 years ago, and it still has so much insight into the New York of today. It's truly a great poem.

The Dawn

BY FEDERICO GARCÍA LORCA

The New York dawn has

four columns of mud

and a hurricane of black doves

that paddle in putrescent waters.

The New York dawn grieves

along the immense stairways,

seeking amidst the groins

spikenards of fine-drawn anguish.

The dawn comes and no one receives it in his mouth,

for there no morn or hope is possible.

Occasionally, coins in furious swarms

perforate and devour abandoned children.

The first to come out understand in their bones

that there will be no paradise nor amours stripped of leaves:

they know they are going to the mud of figures and laws,

to artless games, to fruitless sweat.

The light is buried under chains and noises

in impudent challenge of rootless science.

Through the suburbs sleepless people stagger,

as though just delivered from a shipwreck of blood.