I was working on the translation of this amazing poem from García Lorca, once of my favorite. What do you think?

The moon came to the forge
with its bustle of tuberose.
The boy looks at her.
The boy is looking at her.

In the shaken air
the moon moves its arms
and teaches, lubricious and pure,
her hard tin breasts.

Run away moon, moon, moon.
If the gypsies came,
they would do with your heart
white necklaces and rings.

Boy let me dance.
When the gypsies come,
they'll find you on the anvil
with closed eyes.

Run away moon, moon, moon,
that I already feel their horses.
Boy leave me, don't step on me
my starched whiteness.

The rider was approaching
playing the drum of the plain.
Inside the forge the child,
his eyes are closed.

Through the olive grove they came,
bronze and sleep, the gypsies.
Heads raised
and half-closed eyes.

How the zumaya sings,
oh how it sings in the tree!
The moon goes through the sky
with the child by the hand.

Inside the forge they cry,
screaming, the gypsies.
The air the candle, candle.
the air is watching her.

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You can find the original poem in spanish here: Romance de la luna

Source: https://tallandopoemas.com/