Casida of the Weeping
I've closed my balcony for I don't want to hear the weeping, yet out beyond the grey walls nothing is heard but weeping. There are very few angels singing there are very few dogs barking, a thousand violins fit in the palm of my hand. But the weeping's a dog, immense, the weeping's an angel, immense, the weepin's a violin, immense the tears have silenced the wind, and nothing is heard but weeping.
Casida of the Weeping - form Summary
Casida's Circular Lament
This short poem is presented as a casida, a traditional fixed form recast by Lorca into a modern, spare lament. It frames an enclosed speaker who shuts out sounds yet finds an overwhelming, singular cry filling the world. Repetition and escalating metaphors—angel, dog, violin—compress grief into a single pervasive image of weeping. The effect is cyclical and claustrophobic, turning private sorrow into an inescapable communal sound.
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