A few years ago, in a dancing contest at
Jerez de la Frontera, an old woman of eighty
carried off the prize against beautiful women
and girls with waists like water, merely
by raising her arms, throwing back her head,
and stamping her foot on the platform; in that
gathering of muses and angels, beauties of shape
and beauties of smile, the moribund duende,
dragging her rusty knives along the ground,
was bound to win and did in fact win.
Federico Garcia Lorca/Theory and Function of the Duende
www.MatadoraFlamenca.com
Jerez de la Frontera, an old woman of eighty
carried off the prize against beautiful women
and girls with waists like water, merely
by raising her arms, throwing back her head,
and stamping her foot on the platform; in that
gathering of muses and angels, beauties of shape
and beauties of smile, the moribund duende,
dragging her rusty knives along the ground,
was bound to win and did in fact win.
Federico Garcia Lorca/Theory and Function of the Duende
www.MatadoraFlamenca.com
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