By José Asunción Silva
José Asunción Silva ocupa un lugar de honor en las letras hispanoamericanas y, al lado de Rubén Darío, puede ser considerado como el precursor de ese gran movimiento literario y cultural que fue el modernismo en América Latina. Su obra, escrita casi toda en los angeles Bogotá provinciana y pacata de finales del siglo XIX, es, entre otras cosas, una rebelión contra todo aquello que obstruía el desarrollo de una personalidad independiente y creativa, lo que explica el carácter contradictorio y pesimista de una buena parte de ella.
La selección y el prólogo que ofrecemos al lector fueron elaborados por el escritor Eduardo Camacho Guizado, autor de varios ensayos sobre Silva. Los textos en prosa y los poemas escogidos recogen lo más representativo del poeta, y el estudio preliminar constituye una valiosa aproximación a uno de los mayores exponentes de los angeles lírica colombiana.
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Extra info for Poesía y prosa
To love all men as I love you, Mother, was what you always said. I'd love them, Mother, I'd love them too, but I need freedom, I need bread. HAIDOUK SONG Winds toss the leaves yellow and withered, three long years our homes we haven't seen. There our wives believe they're widowed, wring their hands and gaze toward Pirin. Are not our night-marches dreary, don't we for our children pine and mourn ? For a stone we look when weary, a stone-pillow and a bed of thorns. "Chief, at home our roofs are leaking I" "Chief, in our wheat the weeds grow tall I" - " Shoot up at the stars with hearts a-leaping !
For a life will arrive that is fairer thart sortg, and more beautiful than a spring day . " He remembered the song, a thought flashed through his mind, (In his eyes a small fire was kindling). He smiled a broad smile full of brightness and warmth, braced his shoulders and then started singing. What's your view of it ? Maybe you think we've discovered a case of a complex, hysterical ? You can think just whatever you like of the matter today, my dear friend, you're in error. The man calmly, sentence by sentence so firmly recited the song, that they stared at him uncomprehending, ;ind watched him in fear and alarm.
An engine with wings that cleave the c old curta in and change the earth's orbit, with gas oline va pour's expl osion clear ing the way t oward progress. The engine whi ch sings high ab ove is the work of my hands, and the s ong of the engine is the bl ood of my heart . The man wh ose shrewd eyes were glued to the wavering c om pass, the man wh o had dared to defy t he c old n orthern fr ost and the mist d o y ou know wh o it was ? It was I. I am here and there. I am everywhere . - 47 A worker i n Texas, Alge rian docker, or poet .