“Baroque” is considered to be the period from XVII to VXIII where there was a cultural change in the way of admiring and perceiving art in any of its forms, that is, both literature, sculpture, music, theater or poetry.
On this occasion, we wanted to emphasize baroque poetry, bringing you some of the baroque poems that had the greatest repercussion in those times and that even today continue to enjoy popularity.
Basically, in this period after Renaissance art, man focuses on creating art that reflects disappointment and pessimism as a way of seeing life, that is, artists were inspired by the idea that the world was full of false illusions . Where in Spain, the most prominent country of the movement, failure reached the empire and ended the monarchy of the last kings of the House of Austria (Felipe IV and Carlos II).
We show you these 12 Baroque Poems
Baroque poetry covered a large number of themes that were written lyrically for the first time. Although "love" was also a common theme of this era, artists focused more on social, religious, and philosophical themes.
Between the most prominent poets of the baroque, we can find Luis de Góngora, Francisco de Quevedo, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, Giambattista Marino, Andreas Gryphius, Daniel Casper Von Lohenstein, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, Pedro Calderón de la Barca, Tirso Molina, Torquato Tasso, John Milton, Gregório de Matos Guerra , Bento Teixeira and many others more. However, below we will show you some of the best poems of the Baroque.
1. It's fiery ice, it's frozen fire
It's burning ice, it's frozen fire
it is a wound that hurts and cannot be felt,
it is a dreamed good, a bad present,
it's a very tiring short break.
It is an oversight that gives us care,
a coward with a brave name,
a lonely walk among the people,
a love only to be loved.
It's an imprisoned freedom
that lasts until the last paroxysm,
disease that grows if it is cured.
This is the Love child, this is your abyss.
Look what friendship he will have with nothing
he who is contrary to himself in everything!
Author Francis of Quevedo
2. Stop shadow ...
Stop, shadow of my elusive good,
image of the spell that I love the most,
beautiful illusion for whom I happily die,
sweet fiction for whom I live.
If the magnet of your thanks, attractive,
serve my chest of obedient steel,
Why do you make me fall in love flattering
if you have to mock me then fugitive?
More emblazon can not, satisfied,
that your tyranny triumphs over me:
that although you leave the narrow bond mocked
that your fantastic form belted,
it does not matter to mock arms and chest
if my fantasy carves you prison.
Author Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz
3. A sonnet tells me to do Violante
A sonnet tells me to do Violante,
that in my life I have seen myself in so much trouble;
fourteen verses say it is a sonnet,
mocking, mocking, the three go ahead.
I thought it would not find a consonant
And I'm in the middle of another foursome
but if I see myself in the first triplet,
there is nothing in quartets that scares me.
for the first triplet I am entering,
and it seems that I entered on the right foot
Well, end with this verse I am giving.
I'm already in the second and I still suspect
I'm going through the thirteen verses ending:
count if there are fourteen and it is done.
Author Lope de Vega
4. To the flowers
These that were pomp and joy
waking up to the dawn of the morning,
in the afternoon they will be vain pity
sleeping in the arms of the cold night.
This nuance that defies the sky,
Striped iris of gold, snow and scarlet,
will be an example of human life:
So much is undertaken in one day!
To bloom the roses got up early,
and to grow old they flourished:
cradle and grave in a button found.
Such men their fortunes saw:
in one day they were born and expired;
that past the centuries, hours were.
Author Pedro Calderon de la Barca
5. To a Flemish painter, while painting his portrait
You steal my love and the more he owes him
to your brush, twice a pilgrim,
of lively spirit the short linen
in the colors that thirsty drinks,
vain ashes I fear short linen,
what an emulation of the mud I imagine,
to whom, whether ethereal or divine,
life gave him mute mild splendor.
Gentile Belgian, proceed to noble theft;
that his matter will forgive the fire,
and time will ignore its texture.
The centuries that an oak has in its leaves,
tree counts them deaf, trunk blind;
who sees more, who hears more, less lasts.
Author: Luis de Góngora
6. A man with a big nose
Once upon a man stuck a nose,
once upon a time there was a superlative nose,
once upon a time there was a nose and write,
Once upon a very bearded swordfish.
It was a badly faced sundial,
once upon a thoughtful altar,
once upon a time there was an elephant face up,
Ovidio Nasón was more narrated.
Once upon a spur of a galley,
once upon a pyramid in Egypt,
the twelve Tribes of noses was.
Once upon a very infinite nose,
so much nose, nose so fierce
that in the face of Annas it was a crime.
Author Francis of Quevedo
7. When I think how my light runs out
When I think how my light runs out
So soon in this dark and wide world
And that talent that is death to hide
Lodged in me, useless; though my soul has bowed
To thus serve my Creator, and present to him
My guilt and gain his appreciation
What job would he send since he denied me the light?
I ask affectionately. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon responds: "God does not need
Neither the work of man nor his gifts: who better
Support your light yoke you better serve him. Your mandate
It is noble; thousands rush to your call
And they travel land and sea without rest.
But it is also useful to those who are only standing and waiting.
Author John Milton
8. Gallant stays
Let love reveal you now.
With my sighs let yourself be inflamed.
Sleep no more, seductive creature,
Well, life is sleeping without loving.
Do not worry. In the love story
more evil is done than the evil one suffers.
When there is love and the heart sobs,
evil itself beautifies its sorrows.
The evil of love consists in hiding it;
To avoid it, speak in my favor.
This god scares you, you tremble when you see him ...
But do not make a mystery of love.
Is there sweeter sorrow than to be loving?
Can a more tender law be suffered?
That in every heart always reigning,
love reigns in yours as king.
Surrender, then, oh, heavenly creature;
gives command of fleeting Love.
Love while your beauty lasts,
that time passes and does not return again!
Author Jean Baptiste Poquelin (Moliere)
9. Compare your beloved to the dawn
When the dawn comes out and her face looks
in the mirror of the waves; I feel
the green leaves whisper in the wind;
as in my chest the heart sighs.
I also look for my aurora; and if it turns to me
sweet look, I die of contentment;
I see the knots that in fleeing I am slow
and that make the gold no longer admired.
But to the new sun in the serene sky
does not spill skein so hot
Titón's beautiful jealous friend.
Like shimmering golden hair
that ornaments and crowns the snowy forehead
from which her rest stole from my breast.
Author Torquato Tasso
10. The vices
I am the one who in past years
I sang with my cursing lyre
Brazilian awkwardness, vices and deceptions.
And well that I rested you so long,
I sing again with the same lyre,
the same issue on a different plectrum.
And I feel that it inflames me and inspires me
Talía, who is my guardian angel
since he sent Phoebus to assist me
Author Gregorio de Matos Guerra
11. To an altar of Santa Teresa
The one you see in mercy, in flame, in flight,
Plow on the ground, in the sun pyre, in the wind bird,
Argus of stars, imitated ship,
Clouds overcomes, air breaks and touches the sky.
It is therefore that the summit of Carmel
look faithful, meek occupy and furrow grave,
with mute admiration he shows süave
chaste love, just faith, pious zeal.
Oh militant church, safer
tread land, air ignites, sea sails,
and more pilots your government trusts!
Eternal triumph, stand firm, live pure;
that already in the gulf that you see is flooded
unfaithful guilt, clumsy error, blind heresy.
Author Pedro Calderon de la Barca
12. The misfortune of the forced
The misfortune of the forced,
And industry from the corsair,
The distance from the place
And the favor of Fortune,
That through the mouths of the wind
I gave them help
Against Christian crosses
To the Ottoman moons,
They made of the eyes
From the forced to a time flee
Sweet homeland, candle friends,
Hopes and good fortune.
Return, then, the sad eyes
To see how the sea steals him
The towers, and gives you clouds,
The candles, and gives foams.
And seeing more appeased
In the commander the fury,
Shedding tears she says
As bitter as many:
Who am I complaining about with such a great end,
If I help my damage with my paddle?
«Do not expect to see my eyes anymore,
Well now they didn't see it
Without this paddle your hands,
And the feet without these irons,
That in this misfortune of mine
Fortune has discovered me
How many were my years
So many will be my torments.
Who am I complaining about with such a great end,
If I help my damage with my paddle?
Candles of Religion,
Check your boldness,
How bad can you reach us
Well, you are trying my remedy.
The enemy is leaving you
And favor him time
For your freedom not so much
How much for my captivity.
Who am I complaining about with such a great end,
If I help my damage with my paddle?
Stay on Achaean Beach,
From my thoughts harbor;
Complain about my misadventure
And don't blame the wind.
And you, my sweet sigh,
Break the burning airs
Visit my beautiful wife,
And in the sea of Algiers I wait for you. »
Who am I complaining about with such a great end,
If I help my damage with my paddle?
AuthorLuis de Gongora
We hope that these Baroque poems have been to your liking. As if you know any other poem that you want to share, we invite you to use the comments.
