Pedro Antonio de Alarcón He was a journalist, novelist, playwright and also a poet. Grenadine de Guadix, was one of the most prominent representatives of the pre-realistic movement. Member of the Royal Academy of the Language, his best known work is perhaps the short story The nail, and of course, The Three-Cornered Hat, but there were many more. Which is less known is the facet as poet, in fact he was never recognized much for it. But today, to commemorate today a new anniversary of his death in Madrid in 1891, I want to highlight these chosen sonnets.
Pedro Antonio de Alarcón
It is curious that being representative of this movement of transition to realism, the stories, stories and novels of Alarcón have a romantic tone reminiscent of skunk or Duke of Rivas. And it has also been had as a figure between they and great novelists of his time as Galdós, John Valera or Leopoldo Alas «Clarín». These are 5 selected sonnets of his poetic production that did not reach the success of his prose production.
Smoke and ash
I was smoking, lying in my armchair,
when, in the drowsiness of placid dizziness,
my golden dreams come true I see
of dense smoke amid the opaque mist.
But not even glory my ambition appeases,
nothing calms my feverish desire
until, enveloped by air, I believe
see you rocked in a steamy hammock.
I run to you, my heart evokes you,
and when the fire of your love enchants me
and my lips will seal your mouth,
of them, alas, the cigar slips
and it only remains, of such crazy illusion,
smoke in the air and, at my feet… Ash.
The bell of agony
One o'clock!… Peace to you! -Everything rests,
The night sleeps the world ... But I watch,
giving in the books to my crazy yearning
burning pabulum and spirited expansion.
The voice of a dreadful bell
cross the air with remote flight ...
Farewell to a soul that rises to heaven:
aye of a body that sank into the grave.
Happy mortal, that you flee from this life,
who are you? Who have you been What have you found
in the world that you leave? Your game,
What new region has he directed you to?
Shadows or light? Do you understand something now?
Ah! Tell me what this book ignores!
The cigar
I mess tobacco on a paper; grab
I light it up and I turn it on, it burns already
that burns, dies; die and right away
I throw the tip, sweep it ... And to the car!
A soul wraps God in fragile mud,
and lights it in the fire of life,
suck time and result in departure
a corpse. The man is a cigar.
The ash that falls is his good fortune;
the smoke that rises your hope;
what will burn after his crazy yearning.
Cigar after cigarette time is ticking;
butt after butt into the spear pit,
but the aroma ... get lost in heaven!
Roma
Only you for twice the empire!
Oh Rome! You have exercised in ages!
Only you from two famous cities
you wrap the mystery in purple!
Twice astonished the hemisphere
he contemplated your greatness or your wickedness,
according to the powers of the world
Leon or Borgia, Caesar or Tiberius.
Of Persepolis, Nineveh and Carthage
there remains more than funereal ruins,
warm sand and lonely palms:
And you immortal in the midst of havoc,
when the Latin eagles perish,
you conquered the empire of souls!
Dawn!
The rooster crows ... And the unholy morning
awakens humans with its light,
making them barter vain delusions
by the forced desire of a new day.
They return, then, to attack them with stubbornness
ambition and love, fierce tyrants,
the awful daily jobs ...
Debt, boss, boredom, mania ...
And, meanwhile, the dispossessed lover,
that in dreams shared the pillow
with this or that woman that he had loved,
the relentless day wakes him up
to make him look at his ex-lover
old, married, crazy or dead nun.
Source: Buscapalabra