The Poems of Modernism Are compositions that use literary resources characteristic of poetry, framed in the literary movement called Modernism.
Modernism was a literary movement that took place between the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century and was the first that emerged in America and spread to Europe, explained to a large extent by the independence movements that arose in the continent during those years.
Rubén Dario, author of Modernism.
In Modernism, poetry played a leading role, since through it could be expressed the new cosmopolitan ideas and creative tendencies of the time, which disdained the guidelines established by Realism and Naturalism.
Modernism was then a literary trend marked by rebellion, innovation and the spirit of liberation.
8 Poems of the Most Famous Authors of Modernism
Below we leave you some texts of the most famous authors of this period.
1- Song of Hope
A great flight of crows stains the sky blue.
A millennial breath brings pestilence.
The men are murdered in the extreme East.
Has the apocalyptic Antichrist been born?
There have been omens and wonders have been seen
And the return of Christ seems imminent.
The earth is pregnant with pain so deep
That the dreamer, imperial meditabundo,
Suffers with the anguish of the heart of the world.
Verger of ideals afflicted the earth,
In a pit of shade humanity is enclosed
With the harsh grubs of hatred and war.
Oh, Lord Jesus Christ! Why do you wait, what are you waiting for?
To stretch your hand of light upon the beasts
And make your divine flags shine in the sun!
It rises suddenly and spills the essence of life
About so many crazy souls, sad or inveterate,
That lover of darkness your sweet aurora forgets.
Come, Lord, to make the glory of Yourself.
Come with trembling of stars and horror of cataclysm,
Come and bring love and peace over the abyss.
And your white horse, who looked at the visionary,
pass. And sound the divine clarinet extraordinary.
My heart will be hot from your censer.
Rubén Darío (Nicaragua)
2- That love does not support strings reflections
Madam, Love is violent,
And when it transfigures us
It kindles the thought
The madness.
Do not ask for peace in my arms
That to your own have prisoners:
My hugs are of war
And my kisses are on fire;
And it would be vain attempt
Making my mind dark
If the thought ignites me
The madness.
Clara is my mind
Of love flames, lady,
Like the shop of the day
Or the palace of the dawn.
And the perfume of your ointment
My happiness follows you
And I light the thought
The madness.
My pleasure your taste
Rich honeycomb conceptúa,
As in the holy Song:
Mel et lac sub lingua tu.
The delight of your breath
In such a fine vessel,
And I light the thought
The madness.
Rubén Darío (Nicaragua)
3- And I looked for you for villages...
And I sought for you peoples,
And I sought you in the clouds,
And to find your soul,
Many lilies opened, blue lilies.
And the sad cries said to me:
Oh, what a pain so alive!
That your soul has long lived
On a yellow lily!
But tell me, how has it been?
I did not have my soul in my chest?
Yesterday I met you,
And the soul I have here is not mine.
José Martí (Cuba)
4- Whenever I sink my mind into serious books...
Whenever I sink my mind into serious books
I take it with a beam of aurora light:
I perceive the threads, the joint,
The flower of the Universe: I pronounce
An immortal poetry is born.
Not of altar gods or old books
Not of flowers of Greece, repainted
With menjurjes of fashion, not with traces
Of traces, not with livid spoils
He will mend of the dead ages:
But of the explored entrails
From the Universe, radiant
With the light and the graces of life.
To win, fight first:
And it will flood with light, like the dawn.
José Martí (Cuba)
5- For then
I want to die when I decline the day,
On the high seas and facing the sky,
Where the agony seems sleepy,
And the soul, a bird that goes up the flight.
Do not listen to the last moments,
Already with the sky and with the sea alone,
More voices and no sobbing prayers
Than the majestic tumble of the waves.
Die when the light, sad, withdraw
Its golden green wave nets,
And to be like that slow sun that expires:
Something very luminous that is lost.
To die, and young: before it destroys
Time stirs up the gentle crown;
When life still says: I am yours,
Although we know well that betrays us.
Manuel Gutiérrez Nájera (Mexico)
6- The First Kiss
I already said goodbye... and throbbing
Close my lip of your red lips,
"Until tomorrow,"you whispered;
I looked into your eyes for a moment
And you closed without thinking the eyes
And I gave you the first kiss: I raised my forehead
Illuminated by my certain happiness.
I went out into the street with joy.
While you peered out the door
Looking at me and smiled.
I turned my face in sweet rapture,
And without even stopping to look,
I jumped on a streetcar in a sudden movement;
And I stayed watching you a moment
And smiling with the whole soul,
And even more I smiled... And on the tram
To an anxious, sarcastic and curious,
Who looked at us both with irony,
I said blissfully:
"Forgive me, Lord, this joy."
Amado Nervo (Mexico)
7- In Peace
Very close to my sunset, I bless you, life,
Because you never gave me failed hope,
Nor unrighteous works, nor unmerited penalty;
Because I see at the end of my rough road
That I was the architect of my own destiny;
That if I extract honey or gall from things,
It was because in them I put gall or honeys tasty:
When I planted rose bushes, I always harvested roses.
... True, my flowers will follow the winter:
But you did not tell me that May was eternal!
I no doubt found long nights of my sorrows;
But you did not promise me only good nights;
And instead I had some holy serene...
I loved, I was loved, the sun caressed my face.
Life, you owe me nothing! Life, we are in peace!
Amado Nervo (Mexico)
8- The Eyes of Twilight
As in a background of light, deep and calm water,
In the blue of the afternoon rest the campaigns.
And to the star that opens its lucid pupil,
The shadow of the night trembles in his eyelashes.
A slight dark goes smoothing the grass
With the usual caress of the hand in her hair;
And in his last look he takes the earth to heaven,
The submissive sweetness of the doe's eye.
The quiet blue of the evening is the sky itself
That to the earth descends, with so soft deliquio,
It seems that it clarified its abyss,
And that in his deep soul he was watching.
And curd in the dew that to the vera of the soto
The black eyes of the night grass weep;
And he contemplates in the bosom of the taciturn water,
And it slows down the eyelids of the lotus.
And crystallizes, by way of icebergs, the walls
From the white house that with its door looks
Peace of the prairies; And gently expires
In the noble sadness of your dark eyes.
Leopoldo Lugones (Argentina)
References
- Spanish Literature of Modernism and Modernism (Spanish Literature). Retrieved from en.wikipedia.org
- Poems by Rubén Darío. Recovered from poesiaspoemas.com and amor.com.mx
- Poem by Amado Nervo. Recovered from amor.com.mx
- Poem by Manuel Gutiérrez Nájera. Recovered from ciudadseva.com
- Poems by José Martí. Recovered from amediavoz.com and frasesypoemas.com
- Poem by Leopoldo Lugones. Recovered from poesi.as.