Lover of men
and gypsy song
whose verses
gave voice to the harsh land
of olive trees
dry river beds
the gypsy moon
the burning sun
of Andalucia
you sang the cities
of the ancient Moors
Granada, Cordoba, Sevilla
echoing the ancient Arab poets
evoking the lost splendor
of Al Andaluz
you paid homage to the deep lament
of the flamenco singers
and the wounded cry
of their guitars
but also you found words
to catch the beauty
you saw everywhere around you
you wrote of sailboats
gently rocking in the river
of Sevilla
city of filigreed towers
of delphiniums and bells
and a young girl heading out
to gather shells and pebbles
on the seashore

You denounced the violence
of the fascist state
the Guardia Civil
for which they murdered you
still a young man
an incalculable loss
not just to Spain
but to all of us
who treasure words
written in truth
with a poet's craft
and with your gift
for catching all the music
that's in language
and making room
for what imagination brings
to the table of the artist's task