Portrait of Alexandre Pope at the National Portrait Gallery in London. By Mikael Dahl.
Alexander Pope was born on a day like today London. Writer, essayist and translator, is considered the most important poet of the XNUMXth century English. He was a contemporary and friend of authors like Jonathan Swift. Among his best known works are his Pastoral songs. This is a brief snippet selection of them.
Alexander Pope
Born in 1688, began to write poems in his childhood. Their Pastoral songs, published in 1709, were his premiere official in literature. Already recognized as an author, he continued with works such as Elegy to the memory of a lady, Heloise to Abelard, The stolen curl o Essay on man. Translated The Iliad y The odyssey and he was also the author of Isaac Newton epitaph.
Affected by tuberculosis and from one physical malformation that marked his life, he wanted to make up for it with a lot talent, wit and a great sense of friendship. His friends included John Gay and Jonathan Swift, with whom he created the gathering Scriblerus club in London.
Some fragments of his works
From Eloísa to Abelardo (Start)
From these horrid cells and deep solitudes
where the celestial contemplation rests,
where real attentive melancholy reigns,
What do the tumults of the vestal veins express?
Why do my thoughts run away from this retreat?
Why does the hidden fire burn in my heart?
the fault is Abelardo, if I still love,
and he has to kiss his name, still, Heloise.
Fatal and beloved name! the secret remains
of these lips sealed with sacred muteness;
my heart, hide it is its intimate disguise,
where mixed with God his beloved idea lies;
the name becomes visible -ah, don't write, my hand-;
full is already communicated -my tears erase it! -
Heloise lost, it is empty that I cry and pray,
his heart still dictates, and his hand obeys.
Elegy to the memory of a lady (fragment)
Oh always beautiful, always kind, tell me
Is loving too well, in heaven, a crime?
To have a heart too tender, or too firm?
Play the role of a Roman or a lover?
Is there not in heaven a brilliant restitution
for those of magnificent thought or courageous death?
The stolen curl (fragment)
Of our humanity, it fed
Two curls, that with pilgrim grace
Cute ornament lent
Net and chain to the loving heart;
And if seeing happens at every moment
With the thin mane to light the birds: Nor, you, imperial race of man, praise;
That a golden braid imprisons him,
And a beautiful blazon,
What is of his great power short flash,
The curls the happy man admires,
Watch and keep quiet, and the prey sucks;
And determined to win, the path paves
Without forgetting cunning or insane fraud;
His heart commands him to implore
To the beneficent heaven, and very pious
respectful pleads love.