I have shut my balcony
Because I do not want to hear the weeping
But from behind the great walls
Nothing else is heard but the weeping
There are very few angels that sing
There are very few dogs that bark
A thousand violins fit into the palm of my hand
But the weeping is an immense dog
The weeping is an immense angel
The weeping is an immense violin
The tears muzzle the wind
Nothing else is heard but the weeping
Writer(s): Peter Schickele, Federico Garcia Lorca, Tran: Stephen Spender, J.l. Gill
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