Juana Borrero was born on a day like today from 1877 in Cuba. It is considered as one of the greatest representatives of Hispano-American poetic modernism and she was known as the prodigy girl of this current in her literary version. She publicized her poems in several Havana magazines and weeklies, although she only published a book of poems, Rimas, at the beginning of the XNUMXth century. It was a tribute to the work of the romantic poet Gustavo Adolfo Becquervery influential at the time. He died very young, just 18 years old, of tuberculosis and in exile.
Today we remember his figure with this selection of poems among which is the last one, which he dictated shortly before he died to his sister, also a poet Sweet Maria Borrero, Titulado last rhyme, and also some sonnets.
Juana Borrero — Poems
last rhyme
I have dreamed in my gloomy nights,
in my sad nights of sorrows and tears,
with a kiss of impossible love
without thirst and without fire, without fever and without anxiety.
I do not want the delight that enervates,
the gasping delight that burns,
and they cause me infinite boredom
the sensual lips that kiss and stain.
Oh my beloved! my impossible beloved!
My sweet-eyed dream boyfriend,
when you kiss me with your lips,
kiss me without fire, without fever and without craving.
Give me the dream kiss in my nights,
in my sad nights of sorrows and tears,
leave me a star on my lips
and a faint perfume of tuberose in the soul.
twilight
All is stillness and peace... In the shadows
the smell of jasmine is breathed,
and, beyond, on the glass of the river
the fluttering of the swans is heard
that, like a group of snowy flowers,
They slide across the smooth surface.
The dark bats resurface
from its thousand unknown hiding places,
and thousand turns, and capricious twists
by the quiet atmosphere they describe;
or they fly then trawling the ground,
barely brushing with their gray wings
of the sour thistle the yellow petal,
of humble mauve the virgin corolla.
Apolo
Marble, proud, shining and beautiful,
sweetness crowns her face,
falling around her pure brow
in wavy curls her hair.
By linking my arms around his neck
and by clasping her splendid beauty,
longing for happiness and good fortune
the white forehead with my lips seal.
Against his still, tight chest
I adored her indifferent beauty,
and wanting to cheer her up, desperate,
carried away by my raving lover,
I left a thousand kisses of burning tenderness
there muted on the cold marble.
Intimate
Do you want to probe the night of my spirit?
There in the dark depth of my soul
there is a place where never penetrates
the clear sunlight of hope.
But don't ask me what sleeps
under the shroud of the mute shadow...;
stand there by the abyss and cry
as one cries on the brink of graves!
Ran's daughters
Wrapped between diamond foams
that dot their rosy bodies,
by the rays of the sun illuminated,
the undines emerge from the sea in a group.
Covering their pilgrim backs
the untwisted hair descends,
and the rumor of the waves are mixed
the echoes of their Argentine laughter.
So they live happy and happy
between the sky and the sea, rejoiced,
ignoring perhaps that they are beautiful,
And that the waves, among themselves rivals,
they collide, crowned with foam,
for clasping their virgin forms.
Nostalgia
He has lost his spirit forever
the stillness of its calm days
as a star loses its light,
as a flower loses its fragrance.
Annoyance is housed in my chest
and I am overwhelmed by deep nostalgia;
the immortal beauty of nature,
the happy delusion of childhood,
the memory of quiet days,
the memory of said past,
they have not been able to fill an instant
the emptiness I feel in my soul.
Medieval
Next to the black mass of the haughty wall
that illuminate the stars with dim silver light
the sleepless troubadour with a pensive forehead
moved preludes the sad serenade.
The aura of the fickle and fugitive night,
Kiss the long folds of the scarlet cloak,
and extends the harmonious persuasive cadence
that the placid repose disturbs the ungrateful.
At the foot of the high ditch stands the graceful
romantic figure of the blond menestrello,
that when waving the hand over the cordage of gold
saddened, he exhales his painful complaint
in the rhythmic cadence of the sweet ritornello,
and on her cheeks she feels tears overflowing.
Song
under your blue eyes
my illusions opened
as the flowers open
under the light of Heaven.
like the sea is sadness
hidden that overwhelms me,
deep, like its waves,
like its waves, bitter!
nor the calm of your eyes
nor your enigmatic laugh,
They'll make you ignore the cause
Of your infinite bitterness.
Since I learned to laugh
to hide my sadness
I understand everything margo
that is enclosed in your smile!