MoonLight
92x74cm Oil on Canvas
Federico Garcia Lorca Poem
Romance of the moon, moon
The moon came down to the forge with her broad skirt of tuberoses.
The boy looks and looks at her, the boy is looking at her.
On the deeply touched air the moon swings her arms and shows,
both lewd and pure her nipples of hard tin. Flee, moon, moon, moon.
Should the gypsies come around they would carve out of your heart white rings and necklaces.
Boy, just leave me to my dancing.
When the gypsies do come,
they'll find you upon the anvil with your little eyes closed.
92x74cm Oil on Canvas
Federico Garcia Lorca Poem
Romance of the moon, moon
The moon came down to the forge with her broad skirt of tuberoses.
The boy looks and looks at her, the boy is looking at her.
On the deeply touched air the moon swings her arms and shows,
both lewd and pure her nipples of hard tin. Flee, moon, moon, moon.
Should the gypsies come around they would carve out of your heart white rings and necklaces.
Boy, just leave me to my dancing.
When the gypsies do come,
they'll find you upon the anvil with your little eyes closed.
92x74cm Oil on Canvas
Federico Garcia Lorca Poem
Romance of the moon, moon
The moon came down to the forge with her broad skirt of tuberoses.
The boy looks and looks at her, the boy is looking at her.
On the deeply touched air the moon swings her arms and shows,
both lewd and pure her nipples of hard tin. Flee, moon, moon, moon.
Should the gypsies come around they would carve out of your heart white rings and necklaces.
Boy, just leave me to my dancing.
When the gypsies do come,
they'll find you upon the anvil with your little eyes closed.