Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos

Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos Poems

Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos Biography

Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos (born Gaspar Melchor de Xove y Llanos, 5 January 1744 – 27 November 1811) was a Spanish neoclassical statesman, author, philosopher and main figure of the Age of Enlightenment in Spain. Jovellanos was born at Gijón in Asturias, Spain. Selecting law as his profession, he studied at Oviedo, Ávila, and the University of Alcalá, before becoming a criminal judge at Seville in 1767. His integrity and ability were rewarded in 1778 by a judgeship in Madrid, and in 1780 by appointment to the council of military orders. In the capital Jovellanos took a good place in the literary and scientific societies; he was commissioned by the Society of Friends of the Country (Madrid's economic society) in 1787 to write his most valuable work, Informe en el expediente de ley agraria (A report on the dossier of the Law on Agriculture), a project which he completed in 1794, and published in 1795. Involved in the disgrace of his friend, Francisco de Cabarrús, Jovellanos spent the years 1790 to 1797 in a sort of banishment at Gijón, engaged in literary work and in founding the Asturian institution for agricultural, industrial, social and educational reform throughout his native province. This institution continued his darling project up to the latest hours of his life. He was summoned again to public life in 1797, when Jovellanos refused the post of ambassador to Russia, but accepted that of minister of grace and justice, under "the prince of the peace", whose attention had been directed to him by Cabarrus, then a favorite of Godoy. Displeased with Godoy's policy and conduct Jovellanos combined with his colleague Saavedra to procure his dismissal. Godoy returned to power in 1798 and Jovellanos was again sent away to Gijón. Together with his asturian intellectual colleagues, such as González Posada, Caveda y Solares and his sister Xosefa Xovellanos, Jovellanos focused then in the study of Asturias. He intended to start several projects in the study of his native asturian language, including an Asturian Academy of the Good Letters and an asturian dictionary, but in 1801 he was thrown into prison in Bellver Castle (Majorca) and was forced to let all his cultural projects on hold. The Peninsular War, and the advance of the French into Spain, set him once more at liberty. Joseph Bonaparte, having gained the Spanish throne, made Jovellanos the most brilliant offers, but the latter sternly refused them all and joined the patriotic party. He became a member of the Supreme Central Junta and contributed to reorganize the Cortes Generales. This accomplished, the Junta at once fell under suspicion, and Jovellanos was involved in its fall. To expose the conduct of the Cortes, and to defend the Junta and himself were the last labors of his pen. In 1811 he was enthusiastically welcomed to Gijon; but the approach of the French drove him forth again. The vessel in which he sailed was compelled by stress of weather to put in at Vega de Navia (now A Veiga) in Asturias, and there he died on November 27 1811. Jovellanos's prose works, especially those on political and legislative economy, constitute his real title to literary fame. In them, depth of thought and clear-sighted sagacity are couched in a certain Ciceronian elegance and classical purity of style. Besides the Ley agraria, he wrote Elogios, and a most interesting set of Diaries or travel journals (1790-1801, first published in 1915) reflecting his trips across Northern Spain. He also published other several political and social essays. His poetical works comprise a tragedy, Pelayo, the comedy El delincuente honrado, satires, and miscellaneous pieces, including a translation of the first book of Paradise Lost.)

The Best Poem Of Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos

A Arnesto

Dejame, Arnesto, dejame que llore
Los fieros males de mi patria, deja
Que su rueina y perdicion lamente;
Y si no quieres que en el centro obscuro
De esta prision la pena me consuma,
Dejame al menos que levante el grito
Contra el desorden: deja que a la tinta
Mezclando miel y acibar, siga indocil
Mi pluma el vuelo del bufon de Aquino.
iOh! icuanto rostro veo, a mi censura,
De palidez y de rubor cubierto!
Animo, amigos, nadie tema, nadie,
Su punzante aguijon; que yo persigo
En mi satira el vicio, no al vicioso.

Ya la notoriedad es el mas noble
Atributo del vicio, y nuestras Julias,
Mas que ser malas quieren parecerlo.
Hubo un tiempo en que andaba la modestia
Dorando los delitos; hubo un tiempo
En que el recato timido cubria
La fealdad del vicio; pero huyose
El pudor a vivir en las cabanas.

iOh infamia! ioh siglo! ioh corrupcion! Matronas
Castellanas, ?quien pudo vuestro claro
Pundonor eclipsar? ?Quien de Lucrecias
En Lais os volvio? ?Ni el proceloso
Oceano, ni, lleno de peligros,
El Lilibeo, ni las arduas cumbres
De Pirene pudieron guareceros
Del contagio fatal? Zarpa prenada
De oro la nao gaditana, aporta
A las orillas galicas, y vuelve
Llena de objetos futiles y vanos;
Y entre los signos de extranjera pompa
Ponzona esconde y corrupcion, compradas
Con el sudor de las iberas frentes;
Y tu, misera Espana, tu la esperas
Sobre la playa, y con afan recoges
La pestilente carga, y la repartes
Alegre entre tus hijos. Viles plumas,
Gasas y cintas, flores y penachos
Te trae en cambio de la sangre tuya;
De tu sangre ioh baldon! y acaso, acaso
De tu virtud y honestidad. Repara
Cual la liviana juventud los busca.
Mira cual va con ellos engreida
La impudente doncella; su cabeza,
Cual nave real en triunfo empavesada,
Vana presenta del favonio al soplo
La mies de plumas y de airones, y anda
Loca, buscando en la lisonja el premio
De su indiscreto afan. iAy triste! guarte,
Guarte, que esta cercano el precipicio.
El astuto amador ya en asechanza
Te atisba y sigue con lascivos ojos;
La adulacion y la caricia el lazo
Te van a armar, do caeras incauta,
En el tu oprobio y perdicion hallando.
iAy cuanto, cuanto de amargura y lloro
Te costaran tus galas! iCuan tardio
Sera y esteril tu arrepentimiento!
Ya ni el rico Brasil, ni las cavernas
Del nunca exhausto Potosi no bastan
A saciar el hidropico deseo,
La ansiosa sed de vanidad y pompa.
Todo lo agotan: cuesta un sombrerillo
Lo que antes un Estado, y se consume
En un festin la dote de una infanta;
Todo lo tragan; la riqueza unida
Va a la indigencia; pide y pordiosea
El noble, engana, empena, malbarata,
Quiebra y perece, y el logrero goza
Los pinguees patrimonios, premio un dia
Del generoso afan de altos abuelos.
iOh ultraje! ioh mengua! todo se trafica:
Parentesco, amistad, favor, influjo,
Y hasta el honor, deposito sagrado,
O se vende o se compra. Y tu, belleza,
Don el mas grato que dio al hombre el cielo,
No eres ya premio del valor, ni paga
Del peregrino ingenio; la florida
Juventud, la ternura, el rendimiento
Del constante amador ya no te alcanzan.
Ya ni te das al corazon, ni sabes
De el recibir adoracion y ofrendas.
Rindeste al oro. La vejez hedionda,
La sucia palidez, la faz adusta,
Fiera y terrible, con igual derecho
Vienen sin susto a negociar contigo.
Daste al barato, y tu rosada frente,
Tus suaves besos y tus dulces brazos,
Corona un tiempo del amor mas puro,
Son ya una vil y torpe mercancia.

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