13 Poems of Short Happiness

I leave you 14 Poems of happiness Of some of the best poets in history like Pablo Neruda, Ruben Dario, Antonio Machado or Garcia Lorca.

You may also like These positive phrases .

-Son of wine (Borges)

In what kingdom, in what century, under what silent
Conjunction of the stars, in what secret day
That the marble has not saved, arose the courageous
And unique idea of ​​inventing the joy?

Whith golden fall to invent. The wine
Flows red throughout the generations
Like the river of time and on the arduous road
He gives us his music, his fire and his lions.

In the night of jubilation or in the adversary day
Exalts joy or alleviates fright
And the new dithyrambo that I sing this day

It was once Arabic and Persian.
Wine, teach me the art of seeing my own story
As if it were already ashes in memory.

Poems of happiness

-The remorse (Borges)

I have committed the worst of sins
That a man can commit. I have not been
happy. May the Glaciers of Oblivion
Drag me and lose me, ruthless.

My parents engendered me for the game
Risky and beautiful life,
For earth, water, air, fire.
I defrauded them. I was not happy. Fulfilled

It was not his young will. My mind
Was applied to the symmetrical
Of art, that interweaves nothing.

They bequeathed me courage. I was not brave.
He does not abandon me. He is always by my side
The shadow of being an unfortunate.

-Oda to the happy day (Pablo Neruda)

Leave me this time
be happy,
Nothing has happened to anyone
I am nowhere,
Happens only
That I am happy
through and through
Heart, walking,
Sleeping or writing.
What am i going to do to him
I am more innumerable
That the grass
In the prairies,
I feel the skin like a rough tree
And the water below,
The birds above,
The sea like a ring
On my waist,
Made of bread and stone the earth
The air sings like a guitar.

You by my side in the sand
You are sand
You sing and you sing,
the world
Is today my soul,
Song and sand,
the world
Today is your mouth,
Leave me
In your mouth and in the sand
be happy,
Be happy because yes, because I breathe
And because you breathe,
Be happy because i play
Your knee
And it's like I play
The blue skin of the sky
And its freshness.

Leave me today
To me alone
be happy,
With all or without all,
be happy
With the grass
And the sand,
be happy
With air and earth,
be happy,
With you, with your mouth,
be happy.

-Muere slowly (Pablo Neruda)

Slowly die who does not travel,
Who does not read,
Who does not hear music,
Who does not find grace in himself.
Die slowly
Who destroys his self-esteem,
Who is not allowed to help.
Die slowly
Who becomes a slave to the habit
Repeating every day the same
Who does not change brand,
He does not dare to change the color of his
Or not talk to who does not
Die slowly
Who avoids a passion and its swirl
Of emotions,
Exactly these that return the brightness
To the eyes and restore hearts
Die slowly
Who does not turn the wheel when he is unhappy
With his work, or his love,
Who does not risk the truth or the uncertainty to go
Behind a dream
Who is not allowed, not even once in his life,
To flee from sensible advice...
Live today!
Risk today!
Do it today!
Do not let yourself die slowly!
Do not stop yourself from being happy!

- (Rubén Dario) XXVI - Hallelujah!

Pink and white roses, green branches,
Fresh and fresh corolla
Bouquets, Joy!
Nests in the warm trees,
Eggs in the warm nests,
Sweetness, Joy!
That girl's kiss
Blonde, and that brunette,
And that of that black woman, Joy!
And the belly of that little
Fifteen years old, and his arms
Harmonious, Joy!
And the breath of the virgin forest,
And that of the female virgins,
And the sweet rhymes of Aurora,
Joy, Joy, Joy!

- Happiness (Beloved Nervo)

A blue sky of stars
Shining in the immensity;
A bird in love
Singing in the forest;
By atmosphere the aromas
The garden and the orange blossom;
Beside us the water
Springing from the spring
Our hearts close,
Our lips much more,
You rising to the sky
And I, following you there,
That is love, my life
That is happiness!

Cross with the same wings
The worlds of the ideal;
Rush all the joys,
And all good things to do;
Of dreams and happiness
back to reality,
Waking up in the flowers
Of a spring lawn;
The two looking at us a lot,
The two kissing more,
That is love, my life,
That is happiness!

-The remorse (Jose Luis Borges)

I have committed the worst of sins
That a man can commit. I have not been
happy. May the Glaciers of Oblivion
Drag me and lose me, ruthless.

My parents engendered me for the game
Risky and beautiful life,
For earth, water, air, fire.
I defrauded them. I was not happy. Fulfilled

It was not his young will. My mind
Was applied to the symmetrical
Of art, that interweaves nothing.

They bequeathed me courage. I was not brave.
He does not abandon me. He is always by my side
The shadow of being an unfortunate.

-We say that I am happy (Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz)

Let us pretend that I am happy,
Sad thought, a while;
Perhaps you will persuade me,
Although I know the opposite,
That only in the apprehension
They say that they are damaged,
If you can imagine them happy
You will not be so miserable.

Please understand me
Some time of rest,
And not always the wit
With the profit found.
Everyone is opinions
Of such diverse opinions,
That what the one that is black
The other proves that it is white.

Some are attractive
What another conceives of anger;
And what this by relief,
He has to work.

The one who is sad censures
To light-hearted;
And the cheerful one makes fun
To see the sad sorrow.

The two Greek philosophers
Well this truth proved:
For what in the one laughs,
Caused in the other cry.

Celebrate your opposition
Has been for so many centuries,
Without what was right, be
Until now found out.

Before, on its two flags
The whole world enlisted,
As the mood dictates,
Each one follows the side.

One says that laughing
Only the various world is worthy;
And another, that his misfortunes
They are only for crying.

For everything is found proof
And reason in which to found it;
And there is no reason for anything,
Of having reason for so much.

All are equal judges;
And being equal and several,
No one can decide
Which is the most successful.

Well, if there is no one to sentence him,
Why do you think, you, wrong,
What did God do to you?
The decision of the cases?

Or why, against yourself,
Severely inhuman,
Between the bitter and the sweet,
Do you want to choose the bitter?

If my understanding is mine,
Why I always have to find it
So awkward for relief,
So sharp for damage?

Speech is a steel
That serves for both cables:
Of killing, by the point,
By the knob, of protection.

If you know the danger
You want by the tip to use it,
What is the fault of steel
Of misuse of the hand?

It is not knowing, knowing how to do
Subtle, vain speeches;
That knowledge consists only of
In choosing the healthiest.

Speculating the misfortunes
And examine the omens,
Only serves that evil
Grow with anticipation.

In future work,
The attention, subtilizing,
More formidable than risk
Usually pretends to be tampered with.

How happy is ignorance
Of whom, untamedly wise,
Find what he suffers,
In what it does not know, sacred!

Do not always go up insurance
Bold flights of ingenuity,
Looking for throne in the fire
And they find a tomb in weeping.

Knowledge is also a vice,
That if it is not going away,
When least known
The damage is more harmful;
And if the flight does not bring him down,
In subtleties priming,
For taking care of the curious
Forget what is necessary.

If hand culture does not prevent
Grow the copious tree,
Remove the substance from the fruit
The madness of the branches.

If I ride a light ship
Does not interfere with heavy ballast,
Serves the flight of whatever
The highest precipice.

In useless amenity,
What does it matter to the flowery field,
If there be no fruit in the autumn,
May the flowers bear?

What is the use of wit
Producing many births,
If the crowd is followed
The failure to abort them?

And this misfortune by force
Failure must be followed
Of being the one who produces,
If not dead, hurt.

Wit is like fire,
Which, with ungrateful matter,
Both consume more
When he is clearer.

It's from your own Lord
So rebellious vassal,
Which turns their offenses
The weapons of his shelter.

This lousy exercise,
This hard hardship,
In the eyes of men
God gave them to exercise them.

What crazy ambition leads us
Of us forgotten?
If it is to live so little,
What good is it to know so much?
Oh, if it is known,
There would be some seminar
Or school where to ignore
Work will be taught!

I would happily live
The one who, loosely cautious,
Mock threats
Of the influence of the stars!

Let's learn to ignore,
Thought, because we find
That when I add to the speech,
Both usurpo to the years.

-Final spring (Federico García Lorca)


Gay children leave
From school,
Putting in the warm air
Of April, tender songs.
How great is the joy
Silence of the alley!
A silence in pieces
For new silver laughter.


I'm on my way to the afternoon
Between flowers of the orchard,
Leaving on the road
The water of my sadness.
In the lonely mountain
A village cemetery
It looks like a field planted
With grains of skulls.
And cypress trees have flourished
Like giant heads
That with empty orbits
And greenish hair
Thoughtful and mourning
The horizon contemplates.

Divine April, what are you coming?
Loaded with sun and essences
Fill with gold nests
The flowery skulls!

He told me one afternoon (Antonio Machado)

He told me one afternoon
of spring:
If you are looking for roads
In flower on the ground,
Kill your words
And hear your old soul.
That the same albo linen
That I dress you
Your grief suit,
Your party outfit
Love your joy
And love your sadness,
If you are looking for roads
In flower on earth.
I answered the afternoon
of spring:

-You said the secret
Which in my soul prays:
I hate joy
Out of hatred.
But before I step on
Your flowing path,
I would like to bring you
Dead my old soul.

-In you I closed my hours of joy (José Martí)

In you I closed my hours of joy

And of bitter pain;

Allow at least in your hours to leave

My soul with my goodbye.

I go to an immense house where I have been told

That is life to expire.

The country there takes me. For my country,

To die is to enjoy more.

-Poem lost in few verses (Julia de Burgos)

And if they said that I am like devastated twilight
Where already the sorrows fell asleep!
Simple mirror where I pick up the world.
Where I enternezco solitudes with my happy hand.

My ports have arrived after the ships
As if wanting to escape his nostalgia.
The glittering moons have returned to my flash
That I left with my name vociferando duels
Until all the mute shadows were mine.

My pupils have been tied to the sun of their love alba.
O love entertained in stars and doves,
How the happy dew you cross my soul!
Happy! Happy! Happy!
Expansive in cosmic agile gravitations,
Without reflection or anything...

-Locus amoenus (Garcilaso de la Vega)

Currents pure waters, crystalline,
Trees that are looking at you,
Green fresh meadow full shadow,
Birds that here sow your quarrels,
Ivy that by the trees you walk,
Twisting her way through her green breast:
I saw myself so alien
Of the grave evil I feel
That of pure contentment
With your loneliness I recreated,
Where he lay with sweet sleep,
Or with the thought ran
Where I was not
But memories filled with joy.

"Are they all happy?" (Luis Cernuda)

The honor of living with honor gloriously,
Patriotism towards the homeland without a name,
Sacrifice, the duty of yellow lips,
They are not worth a devouring iron
Little by little some body sad because of themselves.

Down then virtue, order, misery;
Down everything, everything, except defeat,
Defeat to the teeth, to that frozen space
From an open head in two through solitudes,
Knowing nothing but living is to be alone with death.

Not even expect that bird with arms of woman,
With the voice of a man, darkened deliciously,
Because a bird, even if it is in love,
It does not deserve to be awaited, as any monarch
Wait for the towers to ripen to rotten fruit.

Let's just shout,
Let's shout a wing entirely,
To sink so many heavens,
Then touching solitudes with a dissected hand.

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