In the green morning
I wanted to be a heart.
A heart.

  And in the ripe evening
I wanted to be a nightingale.
A nightingale.

  (Soul,
turn orange-colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.)

  In the vivid morning
I wanted to be myself.
A heart.

  And at the evening’s end
I wanted to be my voice.
A nightingale.

  Soul,
turn orange-colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.

- Federico Garcia Lorca