Miguel Altolaguirre and Emilio Prados
Manuel Altolaguirre and Emilio Prados there were two poets malagueños belonging to the 27 Generation. Overshadowed by other colleagues from that handful of geniuses that made it up, its quality is also indisputable. Today I remember them and vindicate them with 6 of their poems.
Manuel Altolaguirre
Born in Malaga in 1905, before the age of twenty he founded his first poetry magazine in which there were collaborations of recognized poets and some colleagues of his generation. He traveled to France and England, where he founded his own printing press.
When he returned to Spain, he remained with the Republic during the civil war and at the end of the conflict he left for good. It was established in Mexico and it was dedicated to the cinematographic direction. On 1959, during a visit to Spain, died in an accident of car in Burgos.
Among his most recognized works are Solitudes together y Poetic life.
3 poems
With you
You are not so alone without me.
My loneliness accompanies you.
I banished, you absent.
Who of you both has patriotism?
The sky and the sea unite us.
The thought and the tears.
Islands and clouds of oblivion
They separate you and me.
Does my light take away your night?
Does your night turn off my cravings?
Does your voice penetrate my death?
My death is gone and reaches you?
On my lips the memories.
In your eyes the hope.
I'm not such alone without you.
Your loneliness accompanies me.
***
Kiss
How alone you were inside!
When I peeked at your lips
a red tunnel of blood,
dark and sad, it was sinking
until the end of your soul.
When my kiss penetrated,
its heat and its light gave
tremors and startles
to your surprised flesh.
Since then the roads
that lead to your soul
you don't want them to be deserted.
How many arrows, fish, birds,
how many caresses and kisses!
***
Love, you just show yourself ...
Love you just show yourself
for what you start from me,
invisible air you are
that you despoil my soul
staining the clean sky
with sighs and tears.
In passing you have left me
bristling with branches,
defended from the cold
by thorns that scratch,
closed my roots
the passage of the waters,
blind and without leaves the naked forehead
that treasured greenery and hope.
Emilio Meadows
Also born in Malaga in 1899, with 15 years he left to study at a boarding school Madrid where it coincided with Juan Ramon Jimenez. Later he was in the Student Residence where he met Dalí and García Lorca. He spent almost a year in the hospital because of a lung disease and there he took the opportunity to read and write. When recovering, returned to Malaga where he participated in the founding of the Litoral magazine. It was also editor for the South printing press, which brought him international fame. He also went to Mexico and died there.
His work is divided into three stages dedicated to social problems, nature and introspection. Some titles are Six stamps for a puzzle o Crying in the blood.
3 poems
Apparent stillness
Apparent stillness before your eyes,
here, this wound ?? there are no alien limits ??,
today is the faithful of your stable balance.
The wound is yours, the body in which it is open
It is yours, still stiff and livid. Come, touch,
come down, closer. Do you see your origin
entering through your eyes to this part
contrary to life? What have you found?
Something that is not yours permanently?
Drop your dagger. Throw away your senses.
Within you what you have given begets you,
It was yours and it is always continuous action.
This wound is witness: no one has died.
***
Song for the eyes
What i want to know
is where I am ...
Where i was,
I know I'll never know
Where I'm going I know ...
Where i was,
Where I go,
where I am
I want to know,
Well open on the air,
dead, I will not know that, I am alive,
what I wanted to be.
Today I would like to see it;
no tomorrow:
Today!
***
Dream
I called you. You called me.
We flow like rivers.
Rose up in the sky
the names confused.
I called you. You called me.
We flow like rivers.
Our bodies were left
face to face, empty.
I called you. You called me.
We flow like rivers.
Between our two bodies,
What an unforgettable abyss!