Текст песни Келли и Гарсиа Лорка - Романс об испанской жандармерии

Their horses are black and black
and black is their printed step.
On the wings of ink raincoats
glisten wax stains.
Midnight and hunchbacks
they carry behind
sand tornadoes of fear
sticky darkness of silence.
Reliable Lead Skull -
the gendarme cannot cry;
dragged into a sword belt
patent leather hearts.
You can’t get away from them -
rushing in the depths
dim zodiacs
ghostly carbines.

Oh sonorous gypsy city!
You are all hung with flags.
The moon and pumpkin turn yellow
plays an infusion of cherries.
And who saw once -
hardly forget you
ginger tower city
musk and sadness!

Nights conjuring nights
the blue twilight has fallen.
In the little forges gypsies
hearts and arrows forged.
The horse at the door cried
And complained of wounds.
In Jerez de la Frontera
rooster sang glass.

And the wind, hot and naked
sneaking around the sidelines
in the dusk, silver dusk
night, conjuring night.

Joseph with the Virgin Mary
hurry to the gypsies in sorrow -
they are their castanets
halfway lost.
Mary in the almond beads
as the daughter of an alcalde, elegant;
a Sunday dress is floating
glistening with chocolate foil.
Joseph waves to the gypsies
throwing the gold-cloak
followed by don Pedro Domek
and three eastern sultans.

A dreaming month on the roof
the drowsy stork froze.
Lights and flags fly up
over sleepy weathercocks.
In the depths of old mirrors
dancing shadows cry.
In Jerez de la Frontera -
midnight, dew and singing.

Oh sonorous gypsy city!
You are all decorated with flags ...
Extinguish green windows -
the black guards are getting closer!
Do you forget my city!
In longing for sea coolness
you sleep, sweeping the stone
strands that did not know the crest ...

They drive in pairs -
and the city sings and dances.
Immortals dead rustle
breaks into the bandolier.
They drive in pairs
hurrying like black news.
And bundles of spurs ringing
constellations appear to them.

A city alien to anxiety
shuffles the door of the suburbs ...
Riding Forty Gendarmes
drive into a dialect and songs.
Numb chimes
At the pulpit high
Cool wine
And pretended to be juice.
Screaming Vane
huddled, flying off the hinges.
Whistled saber
the wind fell under the hooves.

Gypsy old women scurry around
in the gorges of shadow and light
sleepy locks flicker
coins flicker with copper.
And the wings of the ominous cloaks
after flying shadows
and black vortex scissors
close behind the horses ...
And again the gendarmes jump
bonfires burning the night
and a fairy tale beats in flame
beautiful and nude.

Oh my gypsy city!
Gendarmerie rides away
black tunnel of silence
and you are covered by fire.
Do you forget my city!
From now on in my eyes
let them seek your distant reflection
A game of the moon and desert.

F.G. Lorca
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Lorca did not belong to any political party, although he was considered left. On August 19, 1936, on the orders of the Franco center in Seville, he was shot dead along with a school teacher and two matadors in the Visnar ravine in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Shortly before his death, Lorca had to be a defendant in a legal case, the cause of which was “The Romance of the Spanish Gendarmerie” - eight years after the publication of the poem, the author was accused of defaming the impeccable and fearless knights of the rule of law.