Happiness (poem by José Selgas y Carrasco)

Dream that tires the soul,
Light that spills before me,
Voice that impatiently calls me,
Anxiety that forces me to live;
Happiness that harasses me,
That always goes after me,
That at the same time gives
Light and shadow to my desire…
I see it everywhere,
And it is nowhere to be found.

loosely drawn
The indecisive soul finds it
For the sake of a smile,
In the light of a glance,
In all expected joy,
In which it happened importunately,
In glory, in fortune,
In the true, in the impossible…
Everywhere visible,
And it is not achieved in any of them.

Blue, white and light cloud
That the senses deceive,
And after every mountain
It seems that it awaits us
In impetuous race
The man goes to catch her;
She comes… she left… follow her…
Think about grabbing it at every moment…
The cloud always ahead,
But always beyond.

Behind the lied shadow
That pretends your deep desire,
Searching for her around the world
You are consuming life;
Shadow reached or lost,
Wherever you are
You see it everywhere…
But woe to you!
If you arrive, it is no longer there;
If you reach it, it is no longer.

Happiness! vain dream
Of a good that is not on earth,
Anxiety that impatiently contains
The human heart is sad;
Light of mysterious arcane,
Vague heavenly shadow,
Mixture of good and evil,
You are in my heart
The eternal revelation
Of my immortal spirit.

He told me one afternoon (poem by Antonio Machado)

He told me one afternoon
of spring:
If you are looking for paths
in flower on the earth,
kill your words
and listen to your old soul.
That the same white linen
let your dress be
your mourning suit,
your party outfit.
love your joy
and love your sadness,
if you are looking for paths
in flower on the earth.
I responded in the afternoon
of spring:

—You have told the secret
that in my soul prays:
I hate joy
out of hatred of grief.
But before I step
your flowery path,
I would like to bring you
dead my old soul.

Words for Julia (poem by José Agustín Goytosolo)

You can’t go back
because life already pushes you
like an endless howl.

My daughter, it is better to live
with the joy of men
than crying in front of the blind wall.

You will feel cornered
you will feel lost or alone
Maybe you’ll wish you hadn’t been born.

I know very well what they will tell you
that life has no purpose
which is an unfortunate matter.

So always remember
of what one day I wrote
Thinking of you as I think now.

Life is beautiful, you’ll see
how despite the regrets
you will have friends, you will have love.

A single man, a woman
taken like this, one by one
They are like dust, they are nothing.

But when I talk to you
when I write these words to you
I also think about other people.

Your destiny is in others
your future is your own life
Your dignity is that of everyone.

Others hope you resist
may your joy help them
your song among his songs.

So always remember
of what one day I wrote
thinking of you
as I now think.

Never give in or turn away
by the road, never say
I can’t take it anymore and here I stay.

Life is beautiful, you will see
as despite the regrets
you will have love, you will have friends.

Otherwise there is no choice
and this world as it is
It will be all your assets.

Forgive me, I don’t know how to tell you
nothing more but you understand
that I am still on the road.

And always always remember
of what one day I wrote
Thinking of you as I think now.

LXVII (poem by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer)

How beautiful it is to see the day
crowned with fire rise,
and his kiss of light
the waves shine and the air ignites!

How beautiful it is after the rain
of the sad Autumn in the blue afternoon,
of the wet flowers
the perfume inhale until you are satisfied!

How beautiful it is when in flakes
the silent white snow falls,
of the restless flames
see the reddish tongues waving!

How beautiful it is when there is sleep
sleep well… and snore like a sochanter…
and eat… and gain weight… and what a fortune
That this alone is not enough!

Pleasure (poem by Charlotte Brõnte)

True pleasure cannot be breathed in the city,
Not even in the temples where Art lives,
Nor in palaces and towers where
The voice of Greatness shakes.

No. Seek where High Nature holds
Its court between majestic groves,
Where She unleashes all her riches,
Moving in fresh beauty;

Where thousands of birds with the sweetest voices,
Where the wild storm rages
And thousands of streams slide softly,
There their powerful concert is formed.

Go where the shrouded forest dreams,
Bathed in the pale moonlight,
Towards the vault of branches that cradle
The hollow sounds of the Night.

Go to the inspired nightingale
Starts vibrations with his song,
Until all the lonely still valley
It sounds like a circular symphony.

Go sit on a mountain ledge
And look at the world around you;
The hills and the hollows,
The sound of the streams,
The distant horizon bound.

Then look at the wide sky above your head,
The motionless, deep vault of blue,
The sun that sheds its golden rays,
The clouds like pearls of azure.

And as your gaze rests on this vast scene
Your thoughts will certainly travel far,
Although unknown years should pass between
The fast and fleeting moments of Time.

Towards the age where the Earth was young,
When the Fathers, gray and old,
They praised their God with a song,
Silently listening to his mercy.

You will see them with their snow beards,
With clothes of wide shapes,
Their peaceful lives, floating gently,
They rarely felt the passion of the storm.

Then a quiet, solemn pleasure will penetrate
In the most intimate part of your mind;
In that delicate aura your spirit will feel
A new, silent softness.

In my garden a bird walks (poem by Emily Dickinson)

A bird advances in my garden
on a wheel with spokes
of persistent music
like a wandering mill-

never delays
on the ripe rose-
try without posing
praises when leaving,

when he tried all the flavors-
his magical cabriolet
is going to swirl in the distance
then I approach my dog,

and we both wonder
If our vision was real-
or if we had dreamed of the garden
and those curiosities-

but he, to be more logical,
points to my clumsy eyes-
the vibrant flowers!
Subtle response!

In you I locked up my hours of joy (poem by José Martí)

In you I locked up my hours of joy
And of bitter pain;
Allow at least in your hours to leave
My soul with my goodbye.
I’m going to a huge house where they told me
What is life expiring.
The homeland takes me there. For the country,
To die is to enjoy more.

If I could bite the entire earth (poem by Fernando Pessoa)

If I could bite the whole earth
and feeling the taste would be happier for a moment…
But I don’t always want to be happy
It is necessary to be unhappy from time to time in order to be natural…
Not everything is sunny days
and rain when it is long gone, it is asked for.
That’s why I take unhappiness with happiness.
Naturally, as someone who is not surprised
that there are mountains and plains and that there are rocks and grasses…
What is necessary is to be natural and calm in happiness or in
unhappiness.
Feel like someone looking. Think like someone who walks,
and when he has to die,
Remember that the day dies and that the west
It is beautiful and the remaining night is beautiful.
So it is and so be it.

Possession of your name (poem by Pedro Salinas)

Only that you allow,
happiness, soul without body.
I carry you inside me
because I say your name,
happiness, inside the chest.
«Come»: and you arrive quietly;
«go away»: and quickly you flee.
Your presence and your absence
shadow are one of another,
shadows they give me and take away.
(And my arms open!)
but your body never
but your lips never,
happiness, soul without body, pure shadow.

Walk beautiful, like the night… (poem by Lord Byron)

Walk beautiful, like the night
Of clear climates and starry skies,
And all the best of darkness and light
He shines in his appearance and in his eyes,
Thus enriched by that tender light
That the sky denies the vulgar day.

One more shadow, one less ray,
They would have diminished the ineffable grace
That shakes in each braid of her black shine,
Or gently illuminate your face,
Where sweet thoughts express
How pure, how adorable is his abode.

And on that cheek, and on that forehead,
They are so soft, so calm, and at the same time eloquent,
The smiles that win, the nuances that illuminate
And they talk about days lived with happiness.
A mind at peace with everything,
A heart with innocent love!