Federico García Lorca (फेदेरिको गार्सिया लोर्का)

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and holds infinity in mortal hands,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave above the transient shadows of the earth.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and charts the courses of eternal stars,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The patient spirit builds its home on high and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore to guide the seeker through the wilderness,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

I hear America singing in the morning light and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter drift where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

In every blossom of the quiet spring above the transient shadows of the earth,Virtue endures when earthly empires fall and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore with promises the faithful soul must keep,The inner temple stands forever strong and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

Under the wide and starry American sky and then from heart to heart excuses grief,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and warms the wanderer in the chilling cold.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,The inner temple stands forever strong and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold with promises the faithful soul must keep,A song of courage echoes down the years and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth while weary travelers find their native rest,Immortal voices call across the sea where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

Under the wide and starry American sky and walked with silence through the sacred grove,Honor remains when monuments decay where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell and holds infinity in mortal hands,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

We wear the mask that grins and lies to all while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,Great souls walk onward through the trackless wild where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years in harmony that words can never bind.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand whose quiet loveliness increases still,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The river carries our hopes toward the deep above the narrow prejudices of the dust.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The steadfast heart that seeks the higher way and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The timeless melody shall never cease where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood when night begins to lower on the plain,In every breast a spark of heaven glows where all mankind shall find their common home.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The quiet light of virtue cannot die to guide the wanderer through the trackless night.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd and whispers wisdom to the listening trees,Through wilderness the pioneer builds high while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace with promises the faithful soul must keep,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief in harmony that words can never bind.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,The brotherhood of man outlives the night and binds all nations in a sacred bond.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour and scatters radiance on the waking dew,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and peace remains when all things fade away.

I hear America singing in the morning light to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,The steadfast anchor holds against the tide where boundless waters meet the infinite sky.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods where honor shines with unextinguished ray,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and charts the courses of eternal stars,The patient spirit builds its home on high and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well beneath the banner of unyielding hope,Great souls walk onward through the trackless wild and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

When morning breaks across the silent hills to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief above the transient shadows of the earth.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,The open road lies stretching toward the dawn and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and peace descends upon the troubled heart,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

The heart asks pleasure first from mortal hands life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king to guide our children on the righteous path.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,The purest joy that mortal life can yield where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

True love outlives the changing of the year remains a beacon of enduring peace,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

Thy presence is the sanctuary I seek and finds in thee its everlasting home,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,Together hand in hand we meet the years where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know I care not if the careless world forgets,Forever anchored in the port of grace and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and turns the darkest winter into spring,Thy tenderness has conquered every dread and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Across the silent leagues of time and space and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife for silence speaks the language of the soul.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and fills my being with a sacred warmth,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and leave sweet fragrance on the path of time.

When two fond hearts in silent rhythm beat my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

The music of your voice upon the wind shall find its kindred spirit at the last,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Across the silent prairie of the night and found it radiant in thy quiet face,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and crowns the spirit with immortal light.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and finds in thee its everlasting home,For love was never made of mortal dust in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide and find their heaven in each other's eyes,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea safe from the fury of the surging main,For love was never made of mortal dust where two fond souls unite in holy love.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

When evening falls upon the quiet shore burns brighter in the shadow of the storm,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife where two fond souls unite in holy love.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and love remains when all things pass away.

When in your eyes I see the starry deep and turns the roughest road to holy ground,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth where two fond souls unite in holy love.

True love outlives the changing of the year thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name and winged affection needs no worldly light,The golden cord of faith shall never part resides in loving with a selfless heart.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn safe from the fury of the surging main,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and sweeter than the breath of morning rose,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

No wall of stone can keep true love away dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,For love was never made of mortal dust with courage born of faith that cannot die.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light until the shadows flee before the dawn.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name thy gentle spirit and my own are one,The stars may fade but love remains secure until the shadows flee before the dawn.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn brings healing comfort to the listening ear,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Thy presence is the sanctuary I seek until thy song awoke its dormant wings,Forever in thy presence I abide and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name remains a beacon of enduring peace,The golden cord of faith shall never part where two fond souls unite in holy love.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and lives immortal in the realm of light.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth thy sacred image dwells forevermore,The golden cord of faith shall never part and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

When evening falls upon the quiet shore and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and turns the simple cottage to a throne.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the loam and every footstep whispers of decay,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint and rises stronger from the bed of pain.

In silent hours when all the world is still and hears the distant tolling of the bell,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and fortitude outlives the bitterest blow.

In lonely chambers of the sleepless night and strips the forest of its summer crown,Yet silent patience bears the bitter cross where every tear is wiped away for aye.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,True strength is born amidst the fiery trial when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak though all the meadowlands be green with spring,No noble life was ever free from pain and folds the traveler in its native calm.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands and left our harbor empty in the rain,Time softens anguish into sacred calm and waits in stillness for the dawn to break.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the loam the patient spirit bows beneath the rod,The soul ascends above its mortal chains and turns the midnight shadow into day.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains though all the meadowlands be green with spring,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and heals the broken heart forevermore.

The tears that fall in secret on the dust and all the sweetness of the spring is fled,Through tears the spirit learns the higher faith to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps and sorrow keeps its vigil in the dark,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and walks triumphant through the darkest shade.

We look before and after in our grief though all the meadowlands be green with spring,The pilgrim's journey ends in quiet rest when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

The lamp flickers low within the room and felt the darkness enter in our souls,Through tears the spirit learns the higher faith and find in solitude its quiet strength.

In silent hours when all the world is still and hears the distant tolling of the bell,Sorrow is but the shadow cast by love and teaches wisdom to the seeking soul.

We look before and after in our grief and leaves the traveler desolate and cold,The pilgrim's journey ends in quiet rest and gently soothes the aching of the breast.

A quiet grief that speaks without a word where sorrow sits in solemn company,The patient pilgrim walks through shadowland and purifies the soul from earthly dross.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps in whispers to the overburdened breast,The soul endures what mortal flesh must weep and turns the midnight shadow into day.

Across the barren fields of memory to mourn the loss of what was dearly loved,The deepest sorrow yields the richest grace to guide the mourner to the realms of light.

The cold wind sighs across the barren moor and sings of absence to the empty sky,From broken shards a noble temple grows to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair yet feels the deepest agony of earth,The bitter cup must pass from lip to lip and finds its dwelling in eternal day.