The children sing

in the still night;

clear stream,

serene fountain.

What do you have in your hands

of spring?

I

A blood rose

and a lily

The children

Dip them in the water

of the old song

Clear stream,

serene fountain?

Why are you going so far

from the square?

I

I'm going in search of magicians

and princesses!

The children

You've left us singing

in the square,

Clear stream

serene fountain!

Who shows you the way

of the poets?

I

The fountain and the stream

Of the old song.

(F. García Lorca)