13 phrases of Luis de Góngora on the day of his death

On May 23, 1627 the writer, playwright and poet Luis de Góngora died. He is known for contributing his writings in the Spanish Golden Age and his current was gongorism. Today we pay tribute to him with the 13 phrases of Luis de Góngora on the day of his death. His contemporaries were Francisco de Quevedo, Calderón de la Barca and Lope de Vega, among others, reaching one of the best times for Spanish literature. happy, long course of age never neat; And if neat, in loving knots I always live a husband. Already kissing crystalline hands, already knotting me to a white and smooth neck, already spreading that hair over it, which Amor drew from among the gold of its mines. Argos is always attentive to his countenance , lynx penetrating what it thinks, girdle it bronze or look at it diamond, that in its paladions blind love, without breaking walls introduces fire. ”Crying the absence of the traitorous beau, the moon finds it and the sun leaves it, always adding passion to passion, memory to memory, pain to pain. The footsteps of a pilgrim are, wandering, how many sweet muse verses dictated to me in confused solitude, some lost, others inspired. With pleasure and attention the young man heard him, when a torrent of weapons and dogs that, if precipitated not the hills, the people after a wolf brought. Venus is hypocritical. The fountain leaves the narcissus, which is not little for him, and he no longer looks at himself, admiring what he sees. The 13 phrases of Luis de Góngora on the day of his death Treat others of the government of the world and its monarchies, while butter and soft bread rule my days, and the winter mornings orangeade and brandy … If much little map unfolds, much is more what, unleashing mists, confuses the sun and the distance. You, pilgrim bird, arrogant splendor – since not beautiful – of the last west:the rough mother-of-pearl of your forehead hangs over the crisp sapphire of your neck, which he dedicates to his tables, admiration mutes, speaks silently, and, blind, a river follows, that -shining of those mountains son- with crooked speech, Although prolix usefully tyrannizes the fields. That the one who knows more aphorisms is a more serious doctor, it may well be; but that the one who has died the most is not a more expert, it cannot be. Today they make friends again for Baco than for Febodon Francisco de Quevedo and Don Félix Lope of Vega.