Volveran las obscuras golondrinas
En tu balcon sus nidos a colgar,
Y, otra vez, con el ala a sus cristales
...
—Yo soy ardiente, yo soy morena,
yo soy el símbolo de la pasión,
de ansia de goces mi alma está llena.
¿A mí me buscas?
...
?Que es poesia? dices mientras clavas
En mi pupila tu pupila azul;
?Que es poesia? ?Y tu me lo preguntas?
...
Una mujer me ha envenenado el alma,
otra mujer me ha envenenado el cuerpo;
ninguna de las dos vino a buscarme,
yo de ninguna de las dos me quejo.
...
Tú eras el huracán, y yo la alta
torre que desafía su poder.
¡Tenías que estrellarte o que abatirme...!
¡No pudo ser!
...
Yo se un himno gigante y extrano
Que anuncia en la noche del alma una aurora,
Y estas paginas son de ese himno
...
Tu pupila es azul, y cuando ries,
Su claridad suave me recuerda
El tremulo fulgor de la manana
Que en el mar se refleja.
...
Por una mirada, un mundo;
Por una sonrisa, un cielo;
Por un beso... iyo no se
Que te diera por un beso!
...
Sabe, si alguna vez tus labios rojos
quema invisible atmósfera abrasada,
que el alma que hablar puede con los ojos,
también puede besar con la mirada.
...
Los invisibles atomos del aire
En derredor palpitan y se inflaman;
El cielo se deshace en rayos de oro;
La tierra se estremece alborozada;
...
Cuando me lo contaron senti el frio
De una hoja de acero en las entranas,
Me apoye contra el muro, y un instante
...
Los suspires son aire, y van al aire.
Las lagrimas son agua, y van al mar.
Dime, mujer: cuando el amor se olvida,
?Sabes tu a donde va?
...
Saeta que voladora
cruza, arrojada al azar,
y que no se sabe dónde
temblando se clavará;
...
La gota de rocío que en el cáliz
duerme de la blanquísima azucena,
es el palacio de cristal en donde
vive el genio feliz de la pureza.
...
Asomaba a sus ojos una lagrima
Y a mi labio una frase de perdon;
Hablo el orgullo y se enjugo su llanto,
Y la frase en mis labios expiro.
...
Te vi un punto, y, flotando ante mis ojos
La imagen de tus ojos se quedo,
Como la mancha obscura, orlada en fuego,
...
Despierta, tiemblo al mirarte;
Dormida me atrevo a verte;
Por eso, alma de mi alma,
Yo velo mientras tu duermes.
...
Yo me he asomado a las profundas simas
de la tierra y del cielo,
y les he visto el fin o con los ojos
o con el pensamiento.
...
Cendal flotante de leve bruma,
Rizada cinta de blanca espuma,
Rumor sonoro
De arpa de oro,
...
Al brillar un relampago nacemos,
Y aun dura su fulgor, cuando morimos:
iTan corto es el vivir!
La gloria y el amor tras que corremos,
...
Gustavo Adolfo Domínguez Bastida, better known as Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer, was an Andalusian post-romanticist writer of poetry and short stories, now considered one of the most important figures in Spanish literature. He adopted the alias of Bécquer as his brother Valeriano Bécquer, a painter, had done earlier. He was associated with the post-romanticism movement and wrote while realism was enjoying success in Spain. He was moderately well known during his life, but it was after his death that most of his works were published. His best known works are the Rhymes and the Legends, usually published together as Rimas y leyendas. These poems and tales are essential to the study of Spanish literature and common reading for high-school students in Spanish-speaking countries. His work approached the traditional poetry and themes in a modern way, and is considered the founder of modern Spanish lyricism. Bécquer's influence on 20th century poets of the Spanish language can be felt in the works of Octavio Paz and Giannina Braschi. Biography Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer was born in Seville, on February 17, 1836 with the last name of Domínguez Bastida, but he chose his Flemish father's second last name of Bécquer, as the family was known around town. His father, José Domínguez Bécquer, who descended from an originally-Flemish family that was well respected in Seville, was a painter of relatively good repute in his native town. His paintings were sought after, particularly among tourists visiting the area. José had a great talent, and this greatly influenced young Gustavo, who showed a love for painting and an innate ability for drawing and sketching at an early age. He was very talented, and continued drawing throughout his life, though it was never his main focus. Bécquer was left an orphan at an early age: he lost his father at age 5, and his mother only 6 years later. Young Gustavo began his education at San Antonio Abad school, until he was admitted as a student of San Telmo school in 1846, a nautical institution. It was at that school that he met Narciso Campillo, with whom he developed a strong friendship. It was also with Campillo that Bécquer began to show his literary vocation, as the two boys started writing while sharing time at San Telmo. A year later, the school was closed by royal order. Gustavo and his siblings were then taken in by their uncle, Don Juan de Vargas, who cared for the children as if they were his own. Shortly after, Gustavo went on to live with his godmother Doña Manuela Monahay, whose extensive library provided young Bécquer with endless hours of entertainment, which doña Manuela allowed with pleasure. During this period, Campillo remembers that the poet barely left his godmother’s house, as he spent hours devouring the volumes of her library. Gustavo’s godmother, a well-educated person and also well-to-do, supported his passion for the studies of arts and history. However, she wished for Gustavo to have a profession, so in 1850 she got him admitted as a pupil into the studio of Don Antonio Cabral Bejarano, at the Santa Isabel de Hungría school. Gustavo worked at the studio for only two years, when he moved to his uncle Joaquin’s studio and continued developing his skills alongside his brother Valeriano, who was already studying there. Gustavo and Valeriano became from this point very close friends, and they both influenced each other greatly throughout their lives. Luciano, another brother of the poet, also studied with them during this period. The study of the arts of drawing did not distract Gustavo from his passion for poetry; furthermore, his uncle Joaquin paid for his Latin classes, which brought him closer to his beloved Horace, one of his earliest influences. Joaquin also noticed the great aptitude of his nephew for words, and encouraged him to pursue writing as a career, almost behind doña Manuela’s back, with whom Gustavo was still living at the time. In 1853, at the age of seventeen, he moved to Madrid to follow his dream of making a name for himself as a poet. Along with his friends Narciso Campillo and Julio Nombela, both poets also, they had dreamed of moving to Madrid together and selling their poetry for good money, though reality proved to be quite different. Nombela was the first to leave for Madrid that year, alongside his family. After long arguments over the trip with doña Manuela, who resisted the idea, Bécquer finally left for Madrid in October of that same year, alone and quite poor, except for the little money that his uncle provided for him. The third friend, Campillo, did not leave Seville until some time later. Life in Madrid wasn’t easy for the poet. The dream of fortune that had guided his steps towards the city were replaced by a reality of poverty and disillusionment. The two friends were soon joined by Luis García Luna, also a poet from Seville, who shared the same dreams of greatness. The three began writing and trying to make themselves known as authors, without much luck. Bécquer, the only one of the three without a real job and a steady income, went on to live with an acquaintance of Luna, doña Soledad. After several failed commercial attempts with his friends, the writer finally accepted a job as a writer for a small newspaper. This, however, didn’t last long, and soon Gustavo was out of a job again. It was then that, in 1855, Valeriano arrived in Madrid, and Gustavo went on to live with his brother. They would never be apart after that. After a few other unsuccessful attempts at publishing their work, Bécquer and Luna began working together writing comic plays for theater, as a means of making a living. This collaboration went on until 1860. At that time, Bécquer worked intensively on his belated project Historia de los templos de España (History of Spain’s temples), the first volume of which saw the light of day in 1857. It was also during this period that he would meet the young Cuban poet Rodríguez Correa, who would later play a major role in collecting his works for posthumous publication. It was around this time, between 1857 and 1858, that Bécquer became ill, and was left to the care of his brother and friends. Shortly after, he met by chance a girl by the name of Julia Espín, with whom he fell deeply in love, and who also served as an inspiration for much of his romantic poetry. This love, however, was unrequited. Around 1860, Rodríguez Correa found Bécquer a government position, from where he was fired shortly after for spending his time writing and drawing while on the job. In 1861, Bécquer met Casta Esteban Navarro, and married her in May 1861. Bécquer was believed to have had a romance with another girl named Elisa Guillén shortly before the marriage, which is also thought to be arranged (if not somewhat forced) by the parents of the girl. The poet was not happy in the marriage, and took any chance he got to follow his brother Valeriano on his constant trips. Casta began to take up with a man with whom she had had a relationship shortly before marrying Bécquer, something that was later blamed on Bécquer’s trips and lack of attention by Casta’s acquaintances. The poet wrote very little about Casta, as most of his inspiration at this time (as it is the case with the famous rima LIII) came from his feelings towards Elisa Guillén. Casta and Gustavo had three children: Gregorio Gustavo Adolfo, Jorge, and Emilio Eusebio. The third child was possibly fruit of the extramarital relations of Casta. In 1865, Bécquer stopped writing for the magazine El Contemporáneo and began writing for another one called El museo universal. As it was customary for the poet, he didn’t hold this job for long, and was appointed to a government post, fiscal de novelas (censor of novels) by his friend, the Spanish minister González Bravo. This was a well-paid job, which he held until 1868. During this period, the poet concentrated on finishing his Libro de los gorriones (Book of the sparrows), so he did not publish a great deal of his works. The book, which had been completed and given to Bravo to be published, as he had offered so to Bécquer himself, was lost after the political revolution of 1868. It was at this time that the poet left Spain for Paris, although he returned not long after. By 1869, the poet and his brother went back to Madrid together, along with Gustavo’s sons. Here, he started re-writing the book that had gone missing the year before. Gustavo was, by then, living a bohemian life, as his friends later described. With the sole purpose of putting bread on the table, Bécquer went back to writing for El museo universal, and then left to take the job of literary director of a new artistic magazine called La ilustración de Madrid. Valeriano also collaborated with this project. Gustavo's publications on this magazine consisted mostly of short texts to accompany his brother’s illustrations. Around this time, between 1868 and 1869, the two brothers published a book of satiric and erotic illustrations under a pseudonym, which humorously critiqued the life of the royalty in Spain, called Los Borbones en pelotas. In 1870, Valeriano fell ill and died on September 23. This had a terrible impact on Gustavo, who suffered a serious depression as a result. After publishing a few short works on the magazine, the poet also became gravely ill and died in poverty in Madrid, on the 22nd of December, almost three months after his beloved brother. The cause of death is debated: while his friends described symptoms of pulmonary tuberculosis, a later study indicates that he may have died of liver complications. Some of his last words are said to be “Acordaos de mis niños” (“remember-don’t forget- my children”.) After his death, his friend Rodríguez Correa, with the collaboration of Campillo, Nombela, and Augusto Ferrán, collected and organized his manuscripts for publication, as a way to help the widow and children of the poet. The first edition of their effort was published in 1871, and a second volume was published 6 years later. Further revisions came out on the editions released in 1881, 1885, and 1898. In such prose tales as El Rayo de Luna, El beso, and La Rosa de Pasión, Bécquer is manifestly influenced by E.T.A. Hoffmann, and as a poet he has analogies with Heine. His work is unfinished and unequal, but it is singularly free from the rhetoric characteristic of his native Andalucía, and its lyrical ardor is of a beautiful sweetness and sincerity. He also wrote in an epistolary style: Cartas desde mi Celda – written during his travels to Veruela's Monastery – or La Mujer de Piedra or little theatre plays La novia y el pantalón. It is not so known he was an excellent graphic artist. Most of his work concentrated on spontaneity of love and the solitude of nature. His work, and in particular his Rimas, are considered some of the most important work in Spanish poetry, greatly influencing the following generations of writers, notably authors like Antonio Machado and Juan Ramón Jiménez, writers belonging to the Generation of '27, such as Federico García Lorca and Jorge Guillén, and many Hispano-American writers like Ruben Dario. Rhymes Bécquer's poems were recited from memory by his contemporaries, and greatly influenced the generations afterwards. Modeled in brief stanza forms, both musical and erotic, Bécquer's 98 Rimas came to a few thousand lines, considered the foundation of modern Spanish poetry. His book was composed after his death from many sources, the primary one hand-written by Bécquer himself, The sparrows' book. Birds are a motif that shows up frequently in Bécquer's canon, like in "Rima LIII" (Rhyme 53), where swallows appear as a sign of the end to a passionate relationship. Volverán las oscuras golondrinas En tu balcón sus nidos a colgar Y otra vez con el ala a sus cristales, Jugando llamarán. Pero aquellas que el vuelo refrenaban Tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar. Aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres, ¡Esas... no volverán! In English: The dark swallows will return their nests upon your balcony, to hang. And again with their wings upon its windows, Playing, they will call. But those who used to slow their flight your beauty and my happiness to watch, Those, that learned our names, Those... will never come back! The refrain "¡Esas... no volverán!" appears in the 20th novel "Yo-Yo Boing!" by Latina poet Giannina Braschi, who references Bécquer's swallows to describe the sorrow and angst of a failed romance. In Rhymes (Rhyme 21) Becquer wrote one of the most famous poems in the Spanish language. The poem can be read as a response to a lover who asked what was poetry: ¿Qué es poesía?, dices mientras clavas en mi pupila tu pupila azul. ¡Qué es poesía! ¿Y tú me lo preguntas? Poesía eres tú. A rough translation into English reads: What is poetry? you say as you fix on my pupil your pupil blue. What is poetry! And you're asking me? Poetry is you. Legends The Legends are a variety of romantic tales. As the name implies, most have a legendary tone. Some depict supernatural and semi-religious (Christian) events, like The mount of the souls, The green eyes, The rose of the Passion (a blood libel) and The miserere (a religious song). Others cover more or less normal events from a romantic view, like The moonlight ray and Three dates. Narrative He also wrote some narrative pieces in prose, "Narraciones", which are loaded with imagination and implausibility, such as "Memorias de un Pavo" (Memoirs of a Turkey) in which, as the title implies, he describes the trip of a turkey from its home farm to the city, and its purchase to be eaten, when its writings are discovered inside the already cooked body.)
Rimas Liii
Volveran las obscuras golondrinas
En tu balcon sus nidos a colgar,
Y, otra vez, con el ala a sus cristales
Jugando llamaran.
Pero aquellas que el vuelo refrenaban
Tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar,
Aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres...
Esas... ino volveran!
Volveran las tupidas madreselvas
De tu jardi-n las tapias a escalar,
Y otra vez a la tarde, aun mas hermosas,
Sus flores se abriran;
Pero aquellas, cuajadas de rocio,
Cuyas gotas mirabamos temblar
Y caer, como lagrimas del dia...
Esas... ino volveran!
Volveran del amor en tus oidos
Las palabras ardientes a sonar;
Tu corazon de su profundo sueno
Tal vez despertara;
Pero mudo y absorto y de rodillas,
Como se adora a Dios ante su altar,
Como yo te he querido... desenganate,
Asi no te querran!
Este poeta español, uno de los últimos representantes del Romanticismo del siglo XIX, cobró reconocimiento luego de su muerte cuando vieron la luz muchas de sus obras. Un claro ejemplo fue su libro Rimas, que se perdió en 1868 y gracias a su memoria y las publicaciones donde algunas ya habían aparecido, pudo reconstruir su obra más famosa, que terminó lanzándose junto a sus Leyendas en 1871, a un año de su desaparición física, como gesto de sus amigos para ayudar a su familia.