Rubén Darío (1867 - 1916)
The renowned Felíx Rubén Garcia-Sarmiento, also known as Rubén Darío, was born in a small city called San Pedro de Metapa in Nicaragua but was moved to León less than a month after he was born. At the age of 12, he published his first poems: "La Fe" (The Faith), "Una Lágrima" (A Tear), and "El Desengaño" (The Disillusionment). When he was fifteen, he tried to demonstrate his great poetical talent in order to obtain a scholarship to study in Europe by reading one of his poems before President Joaquín Zavala. However, Zazala thought that the poem was too liberal and told the young Darío, "My son, if you write that stuff against the religion of your parents and your homeland now, what will happen if you go to Europe and learn even worse things?" And so his awaited tour was postponed.
Go see a photo of Rubén Darío.
But all was not lost for he met a girl named Rosario Emelina Murillo. When he announced that he wanted to marry here, however, his friends shipped him off to El Salvador where he met Francisco Gavidia, the most renowned poet in the country, and they began to discover certain rhythmical possibilities which were to be the basis for his work and the revolution of Spanish poetry. He returned to Nicaragua at the age of sixteen and then gets a job working in the National Library of Managua and as the Private Secretary to the president Adán Cárdenas.
In 1886 he left for Chile and his departure was followed by the eruption of the Momotombo volcano and the earthquake which it caused. The next year he entered in a contest hosted by a Chilean millionaire and his epic on the glories of Chile won first prize in the contest. In 1888 he published his now world-renowned poem Azul which opened up new possibilities for him as well as beginning the renovation of Spanish literature. The prose works in Azul were revolutionary because they replaced the typically long and grammatically complex Spanish sentence structure with simple, direct sentences. Sadly, his father died at this time and in 1889, Darío returned to Nicaragua but once again traveled to El Salvador.
At the age of 24, Darío wedded Rafaela Contreras legally in San Salvador, El Salvador. He then travelled to Guatemala with her and they were married religiously a year later and their baby boy, Rubén Darío Contreras, was born. In 1892, he was sent to Spain as a government envoy. When he arrived, he was enthusiastically greeted by the most prominent political and social individuals in Spain. In 1983, his wife died in El Salvador while he was in Nicaragua.
That same year, Andrés Murillo, Rosario Murillo's brother, came up with a plan to get the as yet unwed Rosario of his hands because she had become an embarrassment to him. One day, it was arranged that the innocent and unsuspecting Darío was submitted to Rosario's romantic intentions in a private house and was gotten completely drunk. Suddenly, Andrés appeared with a revolver in his hand and he ordered Rubén to either marry her or die. Obviously frightened, Rubén consented and a waiting priest came and performed the legally binding wedding ceremony with Rubén in his inebriated state on March 8, 1893. When Rubén recovered in the morning, he found that he had exercised his conjugal rights. He never protested or grumbled, but he realized that he had been the victim of a carefully laid plot and that the disgrace would plague him for the rest of his life.
Darío was named by president Miguel Antonio Caro and set out to visit Panama, and then he went to Buenos Aires, Argentina as the Colombian Consul. While in New York and Paris, Darío threw parties where he met many important and influential people from around the world. And for the next few years he traveled all over the world writing, representing various countries and organizations, and in the process having many more children, some of which died at birth. During this period he published the first and second editions of his acclaimed "Prosas Profanas" (Profane Hymns) and "El Canto Errante" (The Wandering Song). He returned to Nicaragua a few times during these travels, once to seek his divorce, but he never stayed.
In 1910, Rubén published what is considered his finest piece called the "Poema de otoño" (Poem of Autumn) which was mostly written while he was on an island in Nicaragua. He continued to travel everywhere after its publication and in 1912 he published his autobiography. In 1914, Darío's life took a turn for the worse as he fell into comparative poverty. His lungs gave out as well, and after his release from the hospital he found that many of his friends abroad were living humbly as well. He did manage to receive some money from friends in Buenos Aires and from the Nicaraguan government and it was enough to sustain him. He returned to Nicaragua for the last time in 1915 with his wife Rosario and on February 6, 1916, Rubén Darío breathed his last breath on a bed in León.
Rubén Darío, journalist, poet and diplomat, was the father of a Spanish-American literary movement known as the modernist movement. This use of the word "modernist" to describe the movement does not carry with it the usual connotations because this movement was a combination of romanticism, Parnassiansim, and the symbolist movement. His poertry is remarkable in its musicality, grace, and sonority. Darío was a master at rhyme and metrical structure as well as symbolism and imagery. Rubén Darío is considered to be the most important poet ever to write in Spanish outside of Spain and he is easily one of the Nicaraguan people's most revered heroes.
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro...
y a veces lloro sin querer...
Plural ha sido las celeste
historia de mi corazon.
Era una dulce niña, en este
mundo de duelo y afliccion.
Miraba como el alba pura;
sonreia como una flor.
Era su cabellera obsura
hecha de noche y de dolor.
Yo era timido como un niño.
Ella, naturalmente, fue,
para mi amor hecho de armiño,
Herodias y Salomé...
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro...
y a veces lloro sin querer...
Y mas consoladora y mas
halagadora y expresiva,
la otra fue mas sensitiva
cual no pensé encontrar jamas.
Pues a su continua ternura
una pasion violenta unia.
En un peplo de gase pura
una bacante se envolvia...
En sus brazos tomó me ensueño
y lo arrulló como a un bebé...
Y le mató, triste y pequeño,
falto de luz, falto de fe...
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro...
y a veces lloro sin querer...
Otra juzgó que era mi boca
el estuche de su pasion;
y que me roeria, loca,
con sus dientes el corazon.
Poniendo en un amor de exceso
la mira de su voluntad,
mientras eran abrazo y beso
sintesis de la eternida;
y de nuestra carne ligera
imaginar siempre un Eden,
sin pensar que la Primavera
y la carne acaban tambien...
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro...
y a veces lloro sin querer...
Y las demas! En tantos climas,
en tantos tierras siempre son,
si no pretextos de mis rimas
fantasmas de mi corazon.
En vano busqué a la princesa
que estaba triste de esperar.
La vida es dura. Amarga y pesa.
Ya no hay princesa que cantar!
Mas a pesar del tiempo terco,
mi sed de amor no tiene fin;
con el cabello gris, me acerco
a los rosales del jardin...
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro...
y a veces lloro sin querer...
Mas es mie el Alba de oro!
Nicaragua
Madre, que dar pudiste de tu vientre pequeño
tantas rubias bellezas y tropical tesoro,
tanto lago de azures, tanta rosa de oro,
tanta paloma dulce, tanto tigre zahareño.
Yo te ofrezco el acerco en que forjé mi empeño,
la caja de armonía que guarda me tesoro,
la peaña de diamantes del Idolo que adoro
y te ofrezco mi esfuerzo, y mi nobre y mi sueño.
Poema de Otoño
Tú, que estás la barba en la mano
meditabundo,
¿has dejado pasar, hermano,
la flor del mundo?
Te lamentas de los ayeres
con quejas vanas:
¡aún hay promesas de placeres
en los mañanas!
Aún puedes casar la olorosa
rosa y el lis,
y hay mirtos para tus orgullosa
cabeza gris.
El alma ahita cruel inmola
lo que la alegra,
como Zingua, reina de Angola,
lúbrica negra.
Tú has gozado de la hora amable,
y oyes después
la imprecación del formidable
Eclesiastés.
El domingo de amor te hechiza;
mas mira cómo
llega el miércoles de ceniza;
Memento, ...
Por eso hacia el florido monte
las almas van,
y se explican Anacreonte
y Omar Kayam.
Huyendo del mal, de improviso
se entra en el mal,
por la puerta del paraíso
artificial.
Y, no obstane, la vida es bella,
por posee
la perla, la rosa, la estrella
y la mujer.
Lucifer brilla. Canta el ronco
mar. Y se pierde
Silvano oculto tras el tronco
del haya verde.
Y sentimos la vida pura,
clara, real,
cuando la envuelve la dulzura
primaveral.
¿Para qué las envidias viles
y las injurias,
cuando retuercen sus reptiles
pálidas furias?
¿Para qué los odios funestos
de los ingratos?
¿Para qué los lívidos gestos
de los Pilatos?
¡Si lo terreno acaba, en suma,
cielo e infierno,
y nuestras vidas son la espuma
de un mar eterno!
Lavemos bien de nuestra veste
la amarga prosa;
soñemos en una celeste,
mística rosa.
Cojamos la flor del instante;
¡la melodía
de la mágica alondra cante
la miel del día!
Amor a su fiesta convida
y nos corona.
Todos tenemos en la vida
nuestra Verona.
Aun en la hora crepuscular
canta una voz:
"¡Ruth, risueña, viene a espigar
para Booz!"
Mas coged la flor del instante,
cuando en Oriente
nace el alba para el fragante
adolescente.
¡Oh! Niño que con Eros juegas,
niños lozanos,
danzad como las ninfas griegas
y los silvanos.
El viejo tiempo todo roe
y va de prisa;
sabed vencerle, Cintia, Cloe
y Cidalisa.
Trocad por rosas, azahares,
que suena el són
de aquel Cantar de los Cantares
de Salomón.
Príapo vela en los jardines
que Cipris hella;
Hecate hace aullar los mastines;
mas Diana es bella,
y apenas envuelta en los velos
de la ilusión,
baja a los bosques de los cielos
por Endimión.
¡Adolescencia! Amor te dora
con su virtud;
goza del beso de la aurora,
¡oh joventud!
¡Desventurado el que ha cogido
tarde la flor!
Y ¡ay de aquel que nunca ha sabido
lo que es amor!
Yo he visto en tierra tropical
la sangre arder,
como en un cáliza de cristal,
en la mujer.
Y en todas partes la que ama
y se consume
como una flor hecha de llama
y de perfume.
Abrasaos en esa llama
y respirad
ese perfume que embalsama
la Humanidad.
Gozad de la carne, ese bien
que hoy nos hechiza,
y después se tornará en polvo y ceniza.
Gozad del sol, de la pagana
luz de sus fuegos;
gozad del sol, porque mañana
estaréis ciegos.
Gozad de la dulce armonía
que a Apolo invoca;
gozad del canto, porque un día
no tendréis boca.
Gozad de la tiera, que un
bien cierto encierra;
gozad, porque no estáis aún
bajo la tierra.
Apartad el temor que os hiela
y que os restringe;
la paloma de Venus vuela
sobre la Esfinge.
Aún vencen muerte, tiempo y hado
las amorosas;
en las tumbas se han encontrado
mirtos y rosas.
Aún Anadiómena en sus lidias
nos da su ayuda;
aún resurge en la obra de Fidias
Friné desnuda.
Vive el bíblico Adán robusto,
de sangre humana,
y aún resurge en la obra de Fidias
Friné desnuda.
Vive el bíblico Adán robusto,
de sangre humana,
y aún siente nuestra lengua el gusto
de la manzana.
Y hace de este globo viniente
fuerza y accíon
la universal y omnipotente
fecundación.
El corazon del cielo late
por la victoria
de este vivir, que es un combate
y es una gloria.
Pues aunque hay pena y nos agravia
el sino adverso,
en nosotros corre la savia
del universo.
Nuestro cráneo guarda el vibrar
de tierra y sol,
como el ruido de la mar
el caracol.
La sal del mar en nuestras venas
va a borbotones;
tenemos sangre de sirenas
y de tritones.
A nosotros encinas, lauros,
frondas espesas;
tenemos carne de centauros
y satiresas.
En nosotros la Vida vierte
fuerza y calor.
¡Vamos al reino de la Muerte
por el camino del Amor!