Excerpt from Blood Wedding
By Lorca
Beggar Woman:
that moon's going away, just when they's near. they won't get past here. the river's whisper and the whispering tree trunks will muffle the torn flight of their shrieks. It has to be here, and soon. I'm worn out. The coffins are ready, and white sheets wait on the floor of the bedroom for heavy bodies with torn throats. let not one bird awake,let the breeze, gathering their moans in her skirt, fly with them over black tree tops or bury them in soft mud.
Oh that moon! that moon!
Moon:
But let them be a long time a-dying. So the blood will slide its delicate hissing between my fingers. look how my ashen valleys already are waking in longing for this fountain of shuddering gushes!
Yerma:
I didn't come to these four walls to resign myself. When a cloth binds my head so my mouth wont drop open, and my hands are tied tight in my coffin-then, then I'll resign myself
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