The little boy was looking for his voice. (The king of the crickets had it.) In a drop of water the little boy was looking for his voice. I do not want it for speaking with; I will make a ring of it so that he may wear my silence on his little finger In a drop of water the little boy was looking for his voice. (The captive voice, far away, put on a cricket's clothes.)

From The Selected Poems of Federico García Lorca, by Federico García Lorca, translated by W.S. Merwin, published by New Directions. Copyright © 1955 by W.S. Merwin. Reprinted by permission of W.S. Merwin. All rights reserved.

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Poems by This Author

Arbolé, Arbolé . . . by Federico García Lorca Tree, tree City That Does Not Sleep by Federico García Lorca In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody. Gacela of the Dark Death by Federico García Lorca I want to sleep the sleep of the apples, Romance Sonambulo by Federico García Lorca Green, how I want you green. The Guitar by Federico García Lorca The weeping of the guitar The Old Lizard by Federico García Lorca In the parched path

Further Reading

Poems about Voice Hearing your words and not a word among them (Sonnet XXXVI) by Edna St. Vincent Millay If My Voice Is Not Reaching You by Afzal Ahmed Syed Lift Every Voice and Sing by James Weldon Johnson Meeting at Night by Robert Browning On Silence by R. Zamora Linmark Silences by John Montague Speedway by Cedar Sigo The Keeper's Voice by Mike Carson The Man Whose Voice Has Been Taken From His Throat by Naomi Shihab Nye The Voice by Thomas Hardy Time by Chris Martin Voices by Sharon Olds