"morenita" poems
She comes to vibrate with you
Without seeing already the meaning,
Since the time pure life thinking,
When it grows that winter afternoon,
In the reservation of the pleasure,
Simple without cruelty a life,
In the purity a dream as a treasure,
A life whole innocence comes to tell her.
That's too much but amazing as never,
You do not forget Morenita,
Neither two eyes said by you to love her,
She does not forget, Morenita,
Either you in the daytime with coldness,
You enjoyment touching the moon.
In the first time with her,
It was for you a madness,
How long for telling you,
And that beautiful moment to appear,
Dreams and longings, and happinesses, a life,
Your life, she is in, you can for her,
That's too much but still alive forever.
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
¿No eres tú, mariposa,
el alma de estas sierras solitarias,
de sus barrancos hondos,
y de sus cumbres agrias?
Para que tú nacieras,
con su varita mágica
a las tormentas de la piedra, un día,
mandó callar un hada,
y encadenó los montes
para que tú volaras.
Anaranjada y negra,
morenita y dorada,
mariposa montés, sobre el romero
plegadas las alillas o, voltarias,
jugando con el sol, o sobre un rayo
de sol crucificadas.
¡Mariposa montés y campesina,
mariposa serrana,
nadie ha pintado tu color; tú vives
tu color y tus alas
en el aire, en el sol, sobre el romero,
tan libre, tan salada!...
Que Juan Ramón Jiménez
pulse por ti su lira franciscana.
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