The frolic of she and key— 
the key of Roma City,
because in Roma, a highway,
on a highway a house,

a house, bedchambers bedded 
down with the body
of a lady in love,
who seizes the key.

Who leaps, leaping from bed, 
from chamber, 
who leaves home,
walking meanest of streets,

who seizes sword, runs 
in the night,
who passerby 
kills, out go his lights.

Who is alley to avenue 
to home, house awaiting—
who clambers to chamber,
slips in the bed,

who gently tucks the key away,
buries the sword.
Who complains of Rome’s 
population blithely sauntering by,

without their deaths, 
without night,
without key, 
without lady.

Poet: Rafael Alberti
Translation: Manny Grimaldi