This iron sculpture is called Aurora, also the title of a poem about New York City by Federico García Lorca. Aurora is also the name of the Roman goddess of dawn who flies across the sky announcing the arrival of the sun. Do you see a jumble of skyscrapers, traffic, and people jolted awake by a rust-red sun when you look at this sculpture? Use your imagination. (I don't think Mark di Suvero and Federico García Lorca were big fans of New York City.) La Aurora   The sunrise of New York has four columns of filth and a hurricane of black pigeons that putter in the putrid waters.   The sunrise of New York groans up the immense staircases searching along the sharp edges for etched spice-plants of anguish.   The sunrise arrives, and no one opens his mouth to receive it, because neither tomorrow nor hope is possible here. Only now and then mad swarms of nickels and dimes sting and eat the abandoned children.   The first to leave their houses know in their bones there'll be no paradise and no love without leaves; they know they are going to the filth of numbers and laws, to the games anyone can play, and the work without fruit.   The light is already buried by chains and noises in the ugly threat of science that has no roots. Through the suburbs people who cannot sleep are staggering as though recently rescued from a shipwreck of blood. La Aurora by Ferderico García Lorca from Poeta en Nueva York. Copyright © Herederos de Federico García Lorca. Translation by Robert Bly © Robert Bly and Herederos de Federico García Lorca. All rights reserved. For information regarding rights and permissions for works by Ferderico García Lorca, please contact William Peter Kosmas, 8 Franklin Square, London W149UU, England