Qasida Of The Rose

The rose
was not looking for the dawn:
almost eternal on its stem,
it looked for something else.

The rose
was not looking for science or shadow:
confine of flesh and dream
it looked for something else.

The rose
was not looking for the rose.
Through the sky, immobile,
it looked for something else.

From The Tamarit Divan, Federico Garcia Lorca