Little Viennese Waltz

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    <strong>Little Viennese Waltz</strong>

    In Vienna there are ten little girls,

    a shoulder for death to cry on,

    and a forest of dried pigeons.

    There is a fragment of tomorrow

    in the museum of winter frost.

    There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.

    Ay, ay, ay, ay!

    Take this ></a>lose-mouthed waltz.

    Little waltz, little waltz, little waltz,

    of itself of death, and of brandy

    that dips its tail in t<q></q>he sea.

    I love you, I love you, I love you,

    with the armchair and the book of death,

    down the melancholy hallway,

    in the iriss darkened garret,

    Ay, ay, ay, ay!

    Take this broken-waisted waltz.

    In Vienna there are four mirrors

    in whiouth and the ehcoes play.

    There is a death for piano

    that paints little boys blue.

    There are beggars on the roof.

    There are fresh garlands of tears.

    Ay, ay, ay, ay!

    Take this waltz that dies in my arms.

    Because I love you, I love you, my love,

    iic where the children play,

    d<dfn>..</dfn>reaming a lights of Hungary

    through th></a>e he balmy afternoon,

    seeing sheep and irises of snow

    through the dark silence of your forehead

    Ay, ay, ay, ay!

    Take this &quot; I will always love you&quot; waltz

    In Vien<s>藏书网</s>na I will dah you

    in a e with

    a rivers head.

    See how the hyaths line my banks!

    I will leave my mouth between ys,

    my soul in a photographs and lilies,

    and in the dark wake of your footsteps,

    my love, my love, I will have to leave

    violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons

    <strong>Federico García Lorca</strong>

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