FLASH OF LIGHT
She passes by, my girl.
How prettily she goes by!
With her little dress
of muslin.
And a captive
butterfly.
Follow her, my boy, then
up every byway!
And if you see her weeping
or weighing things up, then
paint her heart over
with a bit of purple
and tell her not to weep if
she were left single.

Federico García Lorca
Translation by A. S. Kline