Carlos Augusto Salaverry (1830-1891)

 

Poems Carlos Augusto Salaverry (1830-1891)

 He was born in Piura, Peru, on December 4, 1830. His parents were Felipe Santiago Salaverry and Doña Vicenta Ramírez. His childhood takes place in his native land, until his father brings him to Lima. Soon after, his stepmother, Juana Pérez de Infantas, takes care of him. His first poems were published in "El Heraldo". He was exiled to Chile, after his father was shot. There he stays three years. He returns and marries Mercedes Felices. Participates in the uprising of Colonel Mariano Ignacio Prado in Arequipa and in the combat of May 2, 1866. He travels through the United States, England, France, Italy until 1878 when he returns to Peru for a short time, since he resumes his trip to Europe where is attacked by paralysis. He died in Paris in 1891. His remains were distributed to Piura, his homeland, in 1964 Literary Production: Of all his production, what stands out the most is his delicate, musical and nostalgic poetry. His main works are Poetry: "Dawns and sparkles", "Diamonds and pearls", "Letters to an angel", "Mysteries of the tomb". Drama: "Arturo", "Atahualpa", "The beautiful ideal", "The man of the 20th century", "The town the tyrant".

Love Poems

 

1. To Hope

 

 

 

 

I know that you are a fugitive bird, a golden fish that plays in the waves, and a dawn cloud that displays its pink gaze and captivates me.

I know that you are a flower that childhood cultivates and the man with her tears waters it, Shadow of the future that never comes, Beautiful in the eyes, and in the elusive hand.

I know that you are the evening star that the old man sees between golden clouds, what last illusion of his soul, beautiful.

And although your light does not burn for my eyes, deceive me, oh lie! I adore you, bird or fish, shadow or flower, cloud or star.

 

2. Diamonds and pearls

 

3. Responds

God said to the bird of the woods sings, to the tender calyx of the flower, it perfumes the star, the sea shines, and the sun invades in the bluish mist

The environment sighs, the sea enchants with your beauties of silvery foam and you, a woman born to hate, has God told you, does he love and forget?

 

4. Letters to an angel

Your virgin soul,

As through a tulle,

Smile in the glass

Of your blue pupil;

And steal the illusion

If they bathe their hue

Your eyes with the light of the heart.

The throbbing snow of that ivory chest,

the roses that your lips stole from April,

In rapturous echo

Respond to my desire

That a sky is the hope of a love.

Life is a flower

Pure at birth...

Its aroma is love,

His chalice the pleasure.

It is pink that when touched

Youthful hand,

They teach their thorns to cry;

more would give of that sky that shades the blush

the ray of hope that shines like the sun

And the dream of Eden

that the soul sees shine

for one of your tears, my love.

Beautiful to behold

The sun on the edge

Pouring over the sea

Its crimson waves;

And it is beautiful when descending

Bathed in warm light

a twilight ray at birth.

Enchantment of the eyes is from the dawn the litmus

that enamels gold and crimson spaces like the sun...

Ah, never when waking up

The dawn has light

more beautiful than the blue of your gaze.

5. Remember me

 

Oh! How long silent the soul

Look around your loneliness that increases,

like a motionless pendulum no longer counts

The hours that go by

Nor does he feel the cadenced minutes

to the equal beat of the heart that adores,

Sucking the intoxicating magic

Of your loving desire.

It no longer beats, nor does it feel, nor does it even breathe,

Petrified the soul there inside,

Your figure in marble with eternal burin

is etched in me

there is no complaint to the lip or crying to the eyes,

Dead for love and fortune,

My grave is in your heart

And the corpse here.

In this already mute heart

Like the ruin of a silent temple,

Empty, abandoned, frightening,

Without light and without noise,

Embalmed waves of harmony

Rise to a time on their altars,

And melodic songs vibrated,

The echoes of your love

It seems like yesterday! From our mute lips

The farewell sigh flew to heaven,

And you hid your face in your handkerchief

To better cry.

Today! The deep breasts separate us

of two immensities that you have wanted,

and it is sadder and deeper that of your oblivion

Than the abyss of the sea.

 

With affection,

Ruben