Flur

My translation of "La Rosa de Harina" by León Felipe,
Por Ernesto:

But man is a child, laborious and stupid,
Who has made of the game a sweaty workday.

He has converted the stick of the drum
Into a hoe,
And instead of tapping on the terrain a hymn of joy
Has been carving her.

If we only knew how to journey beneath the applause of the stars
And to make a poetic symbol of each workday!

I want to say that nobody knows how to plow to the rhythm of the sun,
And that nobody has cut even a single blade of wheat
With love and with grace.

This bread maker, for example: Why is it that this baker
Does not give a rose of white bread to this hungry beggar,
And place it in his lapel?