Guide Selected Poems of Garcilaso de la Vega: A Bilingual Edition

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A master of many forms of Tibetan verse, Gendun Chopel composed heartfelt hymns to the Buddha, pithy instructions for the practice of the dharma, stirring tributes to the Tibetan warrior-kings, cynical reflections on the ways of the world, and laments of a wanderer, forgotten in a foreign land. These poems exhibit the technical skill for which Gendun Chopel was known and reveal the poet to be a consummate craftsman, skilled in both Tibetan and Indian poetics. With a directness and force often at odds with the conventions of belles lettres, this is a poetry that is at once elegant and earthy.

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Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review. Most helpful customer reviews on Amazon. May 30, - Published on Amazon.

Égloga primera - Garcilaso de la Vega - Mejores Poesía 11/100

Verified Purchase. This is not a casual read you take to the beach, but neither is it difficult to access. It requires focus and the discipline enough to read a a few lines slowly, put it down,pick it up again and re-read those few lines as if anew. Chopel is a challenging persona, perhaps especially for Buddhists or students of Buddhism who are sometimes such ardent believers that they struggle to embrace the rebellion in actualized, lived Buddhism.

Everyone should pick up this book but only a few will be comforted by it. February 27, - Published on Amazon.

A wonderful book, not just for those interested in Tibet, but for anyone who enjoys poetry. Gendun Chophel was the outstanding creative voice of twentieth century Tibet, and he remains immensely influential.

His poems combine elements of sensuality, mysticism, philosophy,satire and personal feeling and experience--unlike anything written in Tibetan before him. In sonnets I and XI, for example, de la Vega creates a monody, each ending exactly the same. The rest of those included are abba abba. Subject matter varies as well, de la Vega equally adept at writing about war as about love. For example, here is Sonnet XXIII: While colors of the lily and the rose are displayed within the outline of your face, and with that look, both passionate and chaste, storms grow still in the clear light of your eyes; and while your hair that seems to have been mined from seams of gold, and seeming too in flight about that neck, so white, so bravely upright, is moved and spread and scattered by the wind, seize the sweet fruits of your joyous spring, now, before angry time creates a waste, summoning snow to hide the glorious summit; the rose will wither in the icy blast and fickle time will alter everything, if only to be constant in its habit.

Line length varies considerably in the original as well from 11 to 15 syllables. Here, where once the Romans, looting and burning, kindled profligate flames that left the whole of Carthage nothing but a name alone, love invades my thoughts, turning and returning, to torture and set fire to the anxious soul, and I in tears and ashes am undone.

The Spanish Inquisition, it must be recalled, began in interestingly, it was never officially ended until Is it this that imbues this sonnet with imagery of flames? The rhyme structure of both is aba bcb cdc dad etc. In fact, the first line of every tercet is indented in both which would appear then to be a convention making it possible for the reader to follow the complex structure. The Epistle to Boscan exists in a different world. First Salicio sings of his pain at being abandoned for another by the woman he loves, then Nemoroso sings of his grief at the death of the woman he loves.

But Garcilaso does link feelings and setting with some degree of realism. For both men the fact that in a happier past they enjoyed nature in the company of the woman they loved makes nature now a sad reminder of happiness departed.

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In Eclogue II, which has a total of 1, lines, I have made extensive cuts, but I have tried to provide enough to allow comparison with the other eclogues. I have abridged the narrative and excluded the entire second part. The whole eclogue is written in a variety of verse forms, including a long section with internal rhyme. There is no dedication in Eclogue II and no narrator. It begins directly with Albanio speaking of his unhappiness in love and continues with interventions by his friends, Salicio and later Nemoroso.

Water, as so often in Garcilaso, plays an important part. The spring described by Albanio at the opening is associated with his adolescence and the birth of his love, and also with the disastrous moment when he makes it known and with the occasion when she returns and he catches her sleeping. There have been suggestions that this eclogue might have been performed and we may wonder if Garcilaso might have moved further in the direction of drama, and perhaps comedy, had he lived longer. From the evidence of the other eclogues, however, he was moving in the opposite direction.

It is written in octava real, and I have attempted, where possible, to follow the rhyme scheme abababcc. I am ashamed that anyone should see me in this state, spurned by you, abandoned, and now I even blush to see myself. Do you disdain to be mistress of a soul wherein you always dwelt and could not be absent for a single hour? And you, no longer mindful that I live, nor showing even the least sign of regret that for your sake Salicio dies of heartbreak, throw to the winds and let them scatter all the love and faith which rightfully should be dedicated eternally to me.

Por ti el silencio de la selva umbrosa, por ti la esquividad y apartamiento del solitario monte me agradaba; por ti la verde hierba, el fresco viento, el blanco lirio y colorada rosa y dulce primavera deseaba. For you the silence of the shady forest was dear to me, for you I sought the quiet and seclusion of the lonely mountain, for you I wanted the green grass and the fresh breezes, the white lily and the pink rose, for you I loved the sweetness of the spring. O, how I deceived myself! Was not all made clear by the sinister crow, whose harsh voice so many times had warned me of my misfortune?

Selected Poems of Garcilaso de la Vega: A Bilingual Edition

Poor fool! Materia diste al mundo de esperanza de alcanzar lo imposible y no pensado, of that fugitive water. Your sweet voice now, in whose ears does it sound? Your bright eyes, on whom now do you turn them? For whom so abruptly have I been exchanged?


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Where have you put away your broken vows? Whose neck is it that like a friendly chain your lovely arms hold and encircle now? No heart could bear it, even if made of stone: to see my most beloved ivy torn from me and fastened to another wall, my vine entangled with another elm— how can I not unmake myself in bitter weeping till life departs? What can we not expect from this time on, however hard or doubtful it may seem?

Or what opposites may not yet converge, and likewise, what can the lover hold as certain or what from today not fear, since all is now made possible by you? I am not, in point of fact so ugly or deformed, for now I view myself in this brook which runs so clear and pure and for sure I would not exchange my looks with him who thinks now to have the laugh on me; my fortune, that I would change!

How did I earn from you so much contempt? How so quickly did I become abhorrent? Our understanding, how did it so swiftly cease? But, since you will not come back to save me, do not desert this place you loved so much, for if you come, you do not need to fear me. I will leave this place, the place where you left me; so come, if nothing else but that prevents you.

Here you can see a meadow of lush green grass, here you can see a wood, here you can see the running water once so dear to us, to which I complain of you with many tears.

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Queriendo el monte al grave sentimiento de aquel dolor en algo ser propicio, con la pasada voz retumba y suena. In its deep bass the mountain, wishing to be of service and to aid the expression of such feelings of sorrow, echoes and resounds. Fair Philomena, as if in pain herself and moved to pity, warbles a sweet reply to the doleful sound.

What Nemoroso sang next, I will let you tell, Muses, since to tell it myself I am not able, nor do I dare, for I feel my feeble voice is failing. I remember here how once I fell asleep and woke to see Elisa at my side.