50 sonetos (Spanish Edition)

The writer discusses a number of issues pertinent to Shakespeare's sonnets. Examples of use in the Spanish literature, quotes and news about soneto. Casi un siglo despues Juan Boscan lo recupera, gracias a su amigo Navaggiero, un italiano que se dio cuenta de la afinidad entre su idioma materno y el castellano. Joseph de Solis, Soneto de Roman Montero de Espinosa. Soneto de Luis de Ulloa. El unicornio contiene antiguas significaciones relacionadas con la virginidad y continuamente celebradas durante la Edad Media.

Por esto se ha afirmado que este Corlada en nn cristal en agua pura.

3 Sonetos, Op.54 (Turina, Joaquín)

Creciendo el Nllo egipcio se inundaron. Las 10 actividades del Hay Festival: La ministra de Fomento, Pastor, que el Ha escrito notables poemas en nuestro idioma", sostiene I fear — despite the light that each day breaks far over the eastern horizon. I fear to look at people, to pluralize my thoughts, to cristalize my cowardice. I am afraid to break the glass that separates matter from spirit. Yes, I am afraid of death. I would rather accept the life I know a little, and go rashing hour by hour into the incontrovertible.

We all sleep, we all are guilty of miserie, we eat, we think, we are a connected necessity. And though we have in common our differences, we are totally unacquainted with each other. But our intuitions about each other are casual. I am afraid of night because in its I am not capable of waking to tell you that I love you. Because in its I cannot understand you and tell you at the same time that I come from your own race. I am afraid of glimmering contrasts and I cannot learn to die unless I can disginguish them first.

Would if it be possible to die for two different things at the same time. I will have to look for a more original way of life. May be a stronger inquietude capable of transmitting to my soul a vivid wish to think for a moment about death. It is difficult for me to avoid this fear, to fight against injustice and be a small reflex of the bauty of existence. I cannot avoid it — I am afraid and I do not know if the truth that surrounds me is just. Cempasuchitl, pre-Hispanic links, songs, paper medals, flames talking to the wind the diverse language departed.

History, praised… In Morelos everything is possible Gloom battles with life and its victor, it is once again for a little while, happines, live tradition which overcomes reality. It was before these ornate gravesites, when I knew That in Ocotepec, as in my heart, those that have departed return every year to remind us of their love.

And that only LOVE can save us. Under a yellow star There is a white olive-tree Beneath a stalk of wheat A flower and a worm Below, further down There is the water and the pearl And under the earth Below There is again the star. There is gesture in the golden evening That defines a silver message. These are the signs of the passing hours Leaving their legend in the face. Sadness and happiness incarnate Like quiet Giocondas telling fortunes. Statues with unmoving eyes With the flow of history through the stone. The earth has gestures of landscape That the natural man can feel.

Full of smiles That man does not receive. There is a gesture in the afternoon. Serious, sweet, sad, painful, arid, That would define us. Poet — an International Monthly. April World Poetry Society. I was pulling up weeds And I pulled a thorn out of my finger My skin turns pale my cheeks blush I take off the trouble The sun painted my hair just right!

Your youth is over, my good friend The sun kissed your lips and your veins I wanted in that fire to be with you Sharing the taste of the good things To tighten in the roses of your shelter The beauty os all scenes, I would like to read, to read … Leaving in the memories The gold parchment of your history. This poem was published in World Poetry. Author and edited by Prof.

In the World poetry Research Institute. The triangle becomes scalene And the three sides are dissimilar Man lives in a circumference Therefore, he cannot understand The triangles very well. Only few words can tell you The intellectual connection In the silence, right now, time does not exist With our eyes closed We see only the beauty Hope is on this side of the river The flowering branch, in all its beauty Is speaking of its feelings We only need Those words to be felt.

Julie, I personally think you are a great writer. You have your own way ofexpresing your thoughts and feelings about things. I can see where you are coming from in this poem as only we wished happyness would last. But when we have it we should take advantage of it. We also need to take notice of the beauty of nature surrounding us, not just think its just a paralized object. See what is behind most situations if a better moral messege.

I might be wrong, but we all have our individual ways of seeing poems. If we where to think the same life would be boring, no topics to have different opinions on. No curiosity towards opinions, not belonnging to ours.

Hugs and kisses dearest Julie. With Great emotion I leave this coment in http: I am a radiance bird A flower tree with veins to be all set… I come from the star I was looking for a human: Woman, men, man, woman… Do you know where are they? I am a track footprint From mankind And you? Why did you change your face? Because I like to cover and to keep The light from your star. Everything changes in her head Thoughts, images, words, colours… The hat covers the wind The wind sings inside the hat Her face transforms illusions Her glance calms the time Her lips are closed and quiet It is the moment of wearing secrets As is the secret of the bird Inside de tree… The nest is the cradle of thoughts The woman watch the world, The space, the stars, the flowers And flies the ideas Saved in the classic stylus hat The woman dreams and loves With her pleasant identity.

Mirrors, bubblers, peace Tonight there are no stars Only a human moon Going around in my dreams And you are in the centre Painting lights from my heart Tears, smiles, the grass is wet Against our bare feet And it is not even raining Our hands express the movement We are playing with the sunrise We are changing the world We create a carefree circle Love exists! Flower is a word that Nature does not say. A silent man writes of flowers in the thoughts of his hidden intimacy.

Only de wind knows the secrets of a burgeoning world. Only the wind is losing blossoms on a journey of silence. Only the wind knows the seeds that one day will break the fear, of each man So he may find his own flower. Because I awake everyday And I am a daughter of time I feel the light growing Like a white tongue Speaking to my senses.

Formats and Editions of Una brizna en el oleaje 50 sonetos. [www.newyorkethnicfood.com]

I feel the quiet beat of the tree Between the savage hands of the earth Giving its force and tenderness. I feel the beating sun in my eyes, And love in the endless lips Of a happiness interminable and fragile. Because I awake everyday I am going slowly Behind the steps of the sun Toward the west. The tongue is the mill Where the truth is broken. From the border of the printed word To the farther extremes of the voice The darkening idea flows into the flower From the margin of the echo To the fleeing fantasy The crystal that transmits The light of thought Is broken off Until the final moment In which a tear bursts Into the thirsty hollow of the lyre Where the agony ca be seen Deeply rolling toward the sound That covers the wounds Where the screams of men are drowned.

A prelude of voices is lost everyday. There are words that blossom And rise aloft and grow. They are lost, they fly, They are like dust in the arms Of the sun, an invisible veil, The union of a prodigious essence. How many millions of flocks Of words fall into the vacuum, Or are transported to the blue! They are like incense Reassuming the mass And expressing the song of humanity. But how many words, mute, Stay with the foresight Of our feelings.

Music that nobody hears, That nobody prays, That remains a prisionr In the arcanum of the heart. The clown is not a man Is he a ghost? I more, is almost your own self With a painted face! Is a geture crossing space As a guardian reinbow? Is more than bright colours. Yes, and you laugh and laugh Happy… And after? Well, only the Polar Bear -we saw at the zoo- Returned the earthly balloon To your hands. And where is the clown? We make the Paradise!

The way is inside And over the cave The snail sleep Under the road Truth retain. Green, brown, almost blue Your river flow And detaint my ayes In the profound grave Extreme, intense, bright, graceful, Clean water of feelings writing poems And nothing is intentional There are only colors surrounding us A sensitive compound coming from earth From sea, from sky, from rivers The pleasing ecstasy Is to be at the bottom To letting go forward by draughts Until I meet you there At the sea!

Words, words, words… Made of blood and blue A dragonfly, seahorses, Angles, bubles, Gems, drops, embraces… Earth, space, words! Playing, flying, flutter Running the red skay Of feelings. She never will be free Her veil is made of clouds and knots She is a bride waiting alone The power is made from creation The ornament force the order Only the sea can help her To be herself naked!

Arid painting of sand The colourful mud The pebbles from the Alpes Dunes, lagoons, rivers: Danuvio, Drave… Something is missing Balaton lake as a little sea Smiles! And its big sweet heart Is beating absences. Mirrows, bubles, peace… It is raining over ours heads And you are in the center Painting lights from my heart Tears, smiles, the grass is wet The table ready Our hands express the movement We har playing with sunrise The wine is old We change the world Our carefreee intimate life! Stepping, she uses her feet to connect the distance In between The distance from here to there The space between us Between you Between me She steps hesintantly But makes it a big step Does she complete the leap A leap of faith A leap of gesture What will make it complete?

Who is to say what completion is? Water Skay Sea The land is blue and green. And more… The Earth dispair Between your hands Where are the trees, the smiles? The kisses of Love? Words are golden As the eyes of the cat in the dark night In front of my flash light Surprised it when was watching the moon. My tongue is quiet testing the brevity Of experience There are not monosyllables Only a noisy sight in the deepest music Of my free verse Words are also red inside my body As the fire in the mirror As a fan turning the air yellow As a wed sex before lightning As a rape pomegranate full of sweet blood Or gorgeous gems incrusted the pleasure of my Tongue Because I know, you are in my tongue When I named you But also, when my saliva perfumed your kisses Sex between the harvests white fields Black, red, yellow, black hole In the labyrinth centre of my life As a silence tongue shadow Expressing music!

I am hearing your heart, your arms… Muving the space in your walking Your legs, your feet, your body In harmony with the deepest notes In the way to the stars It is your strong decision who interpret the B flat Probably you ignore how musical you are Your paths walk is an earthly sound wave Crossing black holes I see you going surrounded by prodigious trees By the a lighting hummed sex You are including in this cosmic performance Where the typical piano is almost broken Your hot decisive walk impresses me Trillions of stars flows making forms your image Cavities, fingers, branches, divine caves Extending your movement away From your central blue and black-pink Aptitude!

There are not streets I am thinking about you and I grow As a woman In my way is not resentful is not past Is not future Only I feel the red clods-earthly-grass at the moment Sometimes it is an even layer of snow And I grow because the sky is bright As your colours And I open my arms to the puzzling fable Of your ayes. What makes me think about equivocal? The chaos is magic The blade the leaf reflects existence And you are here Touching my soul What else you want to know? The clay is in the bottom of the river.

J and Wise — my dog. Who said are all we alone? This is not so. At least I am not alone Because I can dance, turn, gyrate, excite, seduce, suggest And open my arms, my legs, and my love And dance, dance, dance. No, never alone I dance and rejoice with myselff I listen to te music within me And it is the stars tha really invites me To dance!

I can be my shadow in the darkness Or it can be be the chape of my foot Also the stopping place where I get down Or my be it is the invisible door beyond the stars Hardly can be the unsymmetrical floor Where I keep my spiritual force And I am vigilant, armad, attentive… You painted and I feel the splendour of the inaccessible! I am a radiance bird I come from the star I was looking for a human: Woman, men, man, women… I am a human You? Yes Why did you change your face? Cloudy and blue sea Illusions Your fantasy and my truth Are revealing meanings Of existence You are making a river Deep inside my sea Endless of colors: Blue Pink… Always returned waves To woman fields and beaches The crown, the flowers The important points… the cross The numbers Sapphires, jewels: My treasure This feminine sense of water!

My body is bent, crooked, inclined… My heart exploited I can almost walk again My hair is awful, slovenliness… The air knows why My legs dismish I can not speed my dried step My arms without strength Where has my energy gone to? Of my everyday little things I do? Where is the force to propel me forward?

The potency of my body, my soul, myself To be in peace And now I need somebody to push me Still I go on foot I know we have a place in common without bombas! The poems contained on this site are copyrighted in. Elison said this on 15 noviembre, a 9: Clari said this on 13 agosto, a 9: Quisiera saber su genero, cuando se escribe, en que se inspira; etc?

Reina said this on 20 febrero, a 9: Me encantan los dos idiomas. Superior al premio Nobel en quien dijo inspirarse. Tanveer Rauf said this on 30 mayo, a 9: Thank you Holistic Wayfarer. I will post more poems in English, I promise. Have a very happy New Year! Holistic Wayfarer said this on 1 enero, a 9: Margaret Lynette Sharp said this on 23 agosto, a 9: Tanveer Rauf said this on 18 agosto, a 9: Hola Homero, muchas gracias por leer mis desordenados poemas. Recibe mis saludos cordiales. En primer lugar saludarte y darte las gracias por leer mis historias y microficciones.

Chequea el primer poema la palabra correcta es around. Homero said this on 15 agosto, a 9: You are a very talented and versatile writer…. I am glad I found you. Harlon said this on 19 julio, a 9: Muchas gracias y me alegra saber que te gustan mis poemas, I am happy for that. Las poemas son hermosas y tienen ritmos constantes y mensajes encantadores.

Gracias a ti, Daniel. Thanks to you for your generosity and reading. I loved both your English and your Spanish poetry- the Spanish especially was also good practice for me, considering how rusty I am.

Tori V said this on 17 abril, a 9: However, those I have read are beautiful. I also love the pictures, marvellous pictures. Cheap Vibrator said this on 21 enero, a 9: Hi Malctg, thanks very much for your words about my blog. I am glad that you like it. I like very much yours too. Have a nice new year. I am amazed at the visual presentation of your blog and the content. I can understand why you have so many hits very impressive. But as I cannot get a translation.

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Most of the time enjoy all the images. Malctg - The Foureyed Poet. Man creates and he destroys his own environment! Margaret Lynette Sharp said this on 9 diciembre, a 9: Wonderful collection and thank you for this post. I also appreciate your liking my posts, too.

Yelling Rosa said this on 30 noviembre, a 9: Me alegra mucho tu lectura de mi blog. Un fuerte abrazo y muchas gracias. Me gusta que pones fotos y visuales siempre. Christy Birmingham said this on 9 noviembre, a 9: I also notice that I am often right behind you in liking a blog post. We seem to follow a log of the same people. Dan Antion said this on 9 noviembre, a 9: Dan Antion said this on 8 noviembre, a 9: Yes Dan, each word has its own soul and it is very dificult to find de soul in another languaje… Thanks so much for your words.

The poems here, have no translation from Spanish Language, I wrote them directly in English Languaje. But I have to learn more and more…. I have also tried a translate option on other poems. Margaret Lynette Sharp said this on 2 noviembre, a 9: Margaret Lynette Sharp said this on 29 octubre, a 9: Moonstruck said this on 10 octubre, a 9: So many wonderful poems! As I read through them I wanted to comment on each on individually, such open emotion expressed unabashedly in verse. Very nice writing Julie, very nice indeed. The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap said this on 8 octubre, a 9: I appreciate your words very much and I will think about to write in the form you suggest.

Thanks very much Janjoy for your reading. I love your words and how your choice of art so tastefully marries each theme. I only wish each poem were set apart as a seperate thought with an opportunity to comment on each pearl in the string. So many wonderful poems. Each day I dedicate some of my time to reading your work. You are one of my favorite writers of all times. Thank you for all you share with us.

Puedes revisar mi entrada en: Un saludo, Gema Albornoz. EmocionesEncadenadas said this on 24 agosto, a 9: I need to pass by and continue with my reading task. EmocionesEncadenadas said this on 22 agosto, a 9: Vashti Quiroz-Vega said this on 14 agosto, a 9: Wow… Julie, these poems are marvelous, so full of laughter, quick and empowered.

Each one tugging a different chord.

One Hundred Love Sonnets: Cien sonetos de amor (English and Spanish Edition)

Hickman said this on 30 julio, a 9: The diversity of thoughts, yet their coherence and congruence, deeply touch me. You are amazing Julie! Pamela said this on 17 junio, a 9: