Luis de Góngora

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The hours will hardly forgive you, those hours that are wearing away the days, those days that are gnawing away the years.

Luis de Góngora y Argote (July 11, 1561May 24, 1627) was a Spanish Baroque lyric poet and playwright.

Sourced[edit]

  • Más largo
    que una noche de Diciembre
    para un hombre mal casado.
    • Longer than a winter's night for a man who is ill-wed.
    • "Murmuraban los rocines", line 94, cited from Poesias de D. Luis de Gongora y Argote (Madrid: Imprenta Nacional, 1820) p. 83. Translation from Henry Baerlein The House of the Fighting-cocks (London: Leonard Parsons, 1922) p. 92.
  • La vida es ciervo herido,
    que las flechas le dan alas.
    • Life is a wounded stag in whom the fast-stuck arrows function as wings.
    • "¡Oh cuán bien que acusa Alcino!", line 23; cited from Poesias de D. Luis de Gongora y Argote (Madrid: Imprenta Nacional, 1820) p. 74. Translation from Ronald M. Macandrew Naturalism in Spanish Poetry from the Origins to 1900 (Aberdeen: Milne and Hutchinson, 1931) p. 75.
  • Mal te perdonarán a ti las horas;
    las horas que limando están los días,
    los días que royendo están los años.
    • The hours will hardly forgive you, those hours that are wearing away the days, those days that are gnawing away the years.
    • "De la brevedad engañosa de la vida", line 12, cited from J. M. Cohen (ed.) The Penguin Book of Spanish Verse (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1962) p. 278. Translation from the same source.
  • A batallas de amor, campo de pluma.
    • Feathers are Love's most fitting battle-ground.
    • Las Soledades, Soledad 1, line 1091, cited from Gilbert F. Cunningham (trans.) The Solitudes of Luis de Góngora (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1968) p. 76. Translation from the same source, p. 77.
  • Andeme yo caliente
    y ríase la gente.
    • Let me go warm and merry still;
      And let the world laugh, an' it will.
    • Letrillas, "Andeme yo caliente", line 1, cited from Robert Jammes (ed.) Letrillas (Madrid: Castalia, 1980) p. 115. Translation from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The Poets and Poetry of Europe (New York: C. S. Francis, 1855) p. 695
  • Busque muy en hora buena
    el mercader nuevos soles;
    yo conchas y caracoles
    entre la menuda arena,
    escuchando a Filomena
    sobre el chopo de la fuente.
    • Let merchants traverse seas and lands,
      For silver mines and golden sands;
      Whilst I beside some shadowy rill,
      Just where its bubbling fountain swells,
      Do sit and gather stones and shells,
      And hear the tale the blackbird tells.
    • Letrillas, "Andeme yo caliente", line 24, cited from Robert Jammes (ed.) Letrillas (Madrid: Castalia, 1980) p. 116. Translation from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The Poets and Poetry of Europe (New York: C. S. Francis, 1855) p. 695

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