Today I give you two beautiful poems written by poets Peru: Cesar Vallejo (Vanguard) and Abraham Valdelomar (Modernist). This Sunday in Peru and elsewhere is safe celebrates Mother's Day, I have no words to express all that my mother did and does for me, just came to my mind, this Friday May morning, that "Poem XXIII" de "Trilce" Universal Poet, my cholo Peruvian Cesar Vallejo and "Tristitia" Abraham Valdelomar.
"Trilce" semantics is a letterhead which apparently does not exist, but in the art of poetry there are no limits to creativity, some students of the poetry of Vallejo try to define this word as a contraction syntactic "Triste" and "Sweet." This poem is that, the metanoia of the sad and sweet. As a delicious lemon Pye, prepared with the secrets of woman my mother, the poem masterfully captivates and therefore make one for it would not be enough for now. Just atinaría to paraphrase some of the lyrics of John Lennon Woman: "After all, I am forever in your debt."
Vallejo is the poet of human feeling just as he has been able to translate the pain, bitterness, anger and all those Shakespeare knew well passions with his prose. As Valdelomar and "Tristitia" I must say that is an endearing ode to the family full of memorable nostalgia.
Friends artists, heirs Parnassus, I hope you enjoy these poems of love to the mother.
TRILCE: POEM XXIII - César Vallejo
Tahona estuosa those biscuits my
pure yolk innumerable children, mother.
Oh your four Gorgas, surprisingly
poorly planned, mother, your beggars.
The past two sisters, who died Miguel
and I still dragging
a braid for each letter of the alphabet.
In the upstairs room we would share
morning, afternoon, dual stowage,
those rich wafers time for
now exceed us
shells flex clocks 24-
stand point.
Mother, and now! Now, what socket
stay, in which capillary sprout,
some crumb is now tied around the neck me
and will not happen. today to
your pure bone meal will
will not amass what
tender love candy,
even in the harsh shadows, even in the large molar
which beats at the dairy gum dimple
unnoticed till and swarms that you saw so much!
in newborn hands closed.
land may hear in your silence,
how we are gaining all
rent the world where we leave
and the value of the bread endless.
And charge us when, as we
small then, as you would see,
we could not have taken
anyone, when you gave us,
"di, Mom?
Tristitia - Abraham Valdelomar
My childhood, which was sweet, serene, sad and alone,
slipped into the peace of a remote village
between the gentle sound that dies a wave
and painful ring an old bell.
Dábame sea of \u200b\u200bmelancholy note
the sky, the serene stillness of its beauty;
my mother's kisses a sweet joy
death of the sun and a vague sadness.
blue In the morning, on waking, I felt
singing the waves like a melody
and then blow dense, perfumed, sea
and what he told me in my soul still remains;
my father was quiet and my mother was sad
and joy no one knew how to teach.
MUSICAL TRIBUTE - VALS "LETTER TO HEAVEN"
INTERPRETED BY FIGHT KINGS - AUTHOR: SALVADOR ODA
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