 of dust and ashes
oil on canvas, 2008
48 by 48 in.
Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.
I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.
If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,
never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.
Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint
by Federico García Lorca
(1898 - 1936)
all images and material Guido Maus Copyright 1997 - 2008
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