Federico García Lorca – Suicide

(Maybe it was because you hadn’t 

mastered Geometry)

–

The lad was going blank.

It was ten in the morning.

–

His heart was growing full

of broken wings and rag flowers.

–

He noticed there remained

just one word on his lips.

–

And when he took off his gloves

a soft ash fell from his hands.

–

A tower showed through the balcony door.

He felt he was balcony and tower.

–

No doubt he saw how the clock,

stopped in its case, surveyed him.

–

He saw his shadow quiet and prone

on the white silk divan.

–

And the stiff, geometrical youth

smashed the mirror with a hatchet.

–

When it broke, a great burst of shadow

flooded the illusory room.

A video based on this poem:

And some information about Federico García Lorca:

https://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/lorca.htm