Jose Marti

(1853-1895 / Cuba)

¡Dolor! ¡Dolor! eterna vida mía


¡Dolor! ¡Dolor! eterna vida mía,
Ser de mi ser, sin cuyo aliento muero!

Goce en buen hora espíritu mezquino
Al son del baile animador, y prenda
Su alma en las flores que el flotante lino
De mujeres bellísimas engasta:—

Goce en buen hora, y su cerebro encienda
En la rojiza lumbre de la incasta
Hoguera del deseo:—

Yo, —embriagado de mis penas,— me devoro,
Y mis miserias lloro,
Y buitre de mí mismo me levanto,
Y me hiero y me curo con mi canto,
Buitre a la vez que altivo Prometeo.—

Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

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  • Juan Rodriguez (10/25/2013 8:45:00 AM)

    La vida misma se hace tu enemiga y tu te conviertes en tu propio enemigo si te quejas y no lucha. (Report) Reply

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