Four Bodices

In Garcia Lorca’s famous poem, The Unfaithful Wife, we see the story of the Spanish Revolution as told through the eyes of a gypsy pistolero and his encounter with a married woman of means trapped in a loveless marriage.

Out beyond the brambles,
the hawthorns and the reeds,
beneath her mane of hair
I made a hollow in the sedge.
I took off my necktie.
She took off her dress.
I, my belt and pistol.
She, four bodices.

From, “The Unfaithful Wife” (from “The Gypsy Ballads”), Published 1928
Federico Garcia Lorca

A response:

Four bodices

The fourth means beauty captured,
As a caged bird for singing.

The third is repetition and routine,
The Taming of the Shrew.

The second, simply thy master’s whim,
Object of derision, not love.

The first is tightly laced, firmly
forming thy breast.

Four are overkill,
But you will understand your suffocation.

Nay! The one enhances my beauty.
I want him to want me.

The second gives to his whims,
And so I live comfortably.

The third keeps my promises,
However cold and lonely.

The fourth flashes my desires,
A secret lover can see.

You are cruel to speak of death,
with pistol at your belt!

Spainish gentry


The civil society,
Must have rules.

Hypocrisy rationalized,
In control.

Oh debauchery!
Libations! Pleasure!

Killing the dead over,
To feast on bloody remains.

Revolution cries for the piper,
But he does not come.


About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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