Photography The Independent.
Alfonsina Storni she was a poet Argentina born in switzerland who passed away tragically on a day like today of 1938. It is considered one of the icons of postmodern literature in your country. His work contains struggle, courage, love and vindication of women. These are 3 of his poems I choose to remember it or present it to those who did not know it.
Alfonsina Storni
Born in Switzerland, very soon moved with his family to Argentina. His childhood was marked by economic hardship and as soon as he could he went to work as waitress, seamstress and worker. It was also maestra rural and drama teacher and collaborated with various youth theater groups.
In 1911 he moved to Buenos Aires and the following year he had a son, Alejandro, whose father was unknown. His literary career began in 1916 with The restlessness of the rosebush, and continued with The sweet hurt, Irremediably y Languor, which led her to win the First Municipal Prize for Poetry and the Second National Prize for Literature.
Later his work ochres he distanced it from Modernism for its more realistic content. Then published Love poems, a pair of theater plays as Love of the world y Two pyrotechnic farces. And he continued with poetry in World of seven wells o Poetic anthology.
Plagued by cancer and affected by deep loneliness, he committed suicide in Mar del Plata in 1938.
3 poems
Goodbye
Things that die never come back to life
things that die never come back.
The glasses are broken and the glass that remains
It is dust forever and always will be!
When the buds fall from the branch
twice in a row they will not bloom ...
The flowers cut off by the impious wind
they run out forever, forever and ever!
The days that were, the days lost,
the inert days will no longer return!
How sad the hours that were shelled
under the wing of loneliness!
How sad the shadows, the dire shadows,
the shadows created by our evil!
Oh, things gone, things withered,
the celestial things that go away like this!
Heart ... silence! ... Cover yourself with sores! ...
-from infected sores- cover yourself with evil! ...
May all who arrive die when they touch you,
accursed heart that you restless my eagerness!
Goodbye forever my sweeties all!
Farewell my joy full of goodness!
Oh, the dead things, the withered things,
the celestial things that do not return again! ...
***
Your sweetness
I walk slowly down the path of acacias,
their snow petals perfume my hands,
my hair is restless under light zephyr
and the soul is like foam of the aristocracies.
Good genius: this day with me you congratulate yourself,
just a sigh makes me eternal and brief ...
Am I going to fly as the soul moves?
On my feet the three Graces take on wings and dance
Is that last night your hands, in my hands of fire,
they gave so many sweetness to my blood, that later,
fill my mouth with scented honeys.
So fresh that in the clean summer morning
I'm very afraid of running back to the farmhouse
golden butterflies on my lips.
***
Pain
I would like this divine October afternoon
stroll along the distant shore of the sea;
than the golden sand, and the green waters,
and the pure skies will see me pass.
To be tall, proud, perfect, I would like,
like a roman, to agree
with the big waves, and the dead rocks
and the wide beaches that surround the sea.
With the slow step, and the cold eyes
and the mute mouth, letting myself be carried away;
watch the blue waves break
against pimples and not blink;
see how birds of prey eat
small fish and do not wake up;
to think that the fragile boats could
sink into the waters and not sigh;
see him come forward, throat in the air,
the most beautiful man, not wanting to love ...
Losing your gaze, absentmindedly
lose it and never find it again:
and, standing figure, between sky and beach,
feel the perennial oblivion of the sea.
During my adolescence, on the way to secondary school by bus, I passed every day in front of the exact point on the seashore from which Alfonsina sought her death. Memento died. An indelible mark of the fragility of existence.