6 junio, 2024

6-stanza poems by well-known authors

I leave you a list of 6 stanza poems by well-known authors such as Vicente Aleixandre, Lope de Vega or Federico García Lorca. A poem is a composition that uses the literary resources of poetry.

The poem can be written in different ways, but it is usually in verse. This means that it is made up of phrases or sentences written on separate lines and grouped into sections called stanzas.

Each of these lines usually rhymes with each other, that is, a similar vowel sound, especially in the last word of the lines, although this is not a rule nor is it true in all poems. On the contrary, there are many poems without any rhyme.

List of 6-stanza poems by renowned authors

1- Streets and dreams

Sleepless City (Brooklyn Bridge Night)

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody nobody.

Nobody sleeps.

Creatures of the moon smell and haunt their huts.

Live iguanas will come to bite men who do not dream

and the one who flees with a broken heart will find around the corners

the incredible crocodile still under the tender protest of the stars.

No one sleeps in the world. Nobody nobody.

Nobody sleeps.

There is a dead man in the furthest cemetery

who complains three years

because it has a dry landscape on the knee;

and the child they buried this morning cried so much

that there was a need to call the dogs to keep him quiet.

Life is not a dream. Alert! Alert! Alert!

We fall down the stairs to eat the wet earth

or we go up to the edge of the snow with the choir of dead dahlias.

But there is no oblivion, no dream:

live meat. The kisses tie the mouths

in a tangle of recent veins

and the one who hurts his pain will hurt without rest

and he who fears death will carry it on his shoulders.

One day

the horses will live in the taverns

and the angry ants

They will attack the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of the cows.

Another day

we will see the resurrection of stuffed butterflies

and still walking through a landscape of gray sponges and silent boats

we will see our ring shine and roses flow from our tongue.

Alert! Alert! Alert!

To those who still keep paw prints and downpour,

to that boy who cries because he doesn’t know the invention of the bridge

or to that dead man who no longer has more than his head and a shoe,

You have to take them to the wall where iguanas and snakes wait,

where the bear’s teeth wait,

where the mummified hand of the child awaits

and the camel’s skin bristles with a violent blue chill.

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody nobody.

Nobody sleeps.

But if someone closes their eyes,

whip him, my children, whip him!

Let there be an open-eyed panorama

and bitter burning sores.

No one sleeps in the world. Nobody nobody.

I said it already.

Nobody sleeps.

But if someone has an excess of moss on his temples at night,

Open the hatches so that I can see under the moon

the false glasses, the poison and the skull of the theaters.

Author: Federico Garcia Lorca

2- New songs

Says the afternoon: «I thirst for shadow!»

The moon says: «I thirst for stars!»

The crystal fountain asks for lips

and the wind sighs.

I thirst for aromas and laughter,

thirst for new songs

without moons and without lilies,

and without dead loves.

A morning song that shakes

to the still pools

of the future and fill with hope

its waves and its muds.

A luminous and restful song

full of thought,

Virgin of sadness and anguish

and virginal of dreams.

Sing without lyrical meat that fills

of laughter the silence

(a flock of blind pigeons

thrown into the mystery).

Sing that goes to the soul of things

and to the soul of the winds

and finally rest in joy

of the eternal heart

Author: Federico Garcia Lorca

3- On a pleasant beach

On a pleasant beach

to whom the Turia offered pearls

of its little sand,

and the crystal sea of ​​Spain covered,

Belisa was alone

crying to the sound of the water and the waves.

«Fierce, cruel husband!»

the eyes turned fountains, he repeated,

and the sea, as envious,

to earth for the tears it left;

and happy to catch them,

he keeps them in shells and turns them into pearls.

«Traitor, what are you now

in other arms and to death you leave

the soul that adores you,

and you give the wind tears and complaints,

if you come back here,

You will see that I am an example of women.

that in this raging sea

I will find temperance from my fire,

offering bouncy

to the water the body, to the wind the hope;

that will not have calm

less than in so many waters so much fire.

Oh tiger!, if you were

in this chest where you used to be,

dying me, you died;

I have more garments in my entrails

in which you will see that I kill,

in the absence of your life, your portrait ».

It was already thrown, when

a dolphin came out with a loud bellow,

and she, seeing him trembling,

He turned his back on face and death,

saying: «If she is so ugly,

I live, and whoever wishes my evil dies».

Author: Lope de Vega

4- Unity in it

Happy body that flows between my hands,

beloved face where I contemplate the world,

where graceful birds copy fugitives,

flying to the region where nothing is forgotten.

Your outer form, diamond or hard ruby,

shine of a sun that dazzles in my hands,

crater that summons me with its intimate music, with that

indecipherable call of your teeth.

I die because I throw myself, because I want to die,

because I want to live in the fire, because this air outside

not mine, but the hot breath

that if I get closer it burns and browns my lips from the depths.

Let, let me look, tinged with love,

reddened in the face by your purple life,

let me look at the deep cry of your bowels

where I die and give up living forever.

I want love or death, I want to die completely,

I want to be you, your blood, that roaring lava

that watering locked up beautiful extreme members

thus feel the beautiful limits of life.

This kiss on your lips like a slow thorn

like a sea that flew like a mirror,

like the shine of a wing,

It’s still hands, a brushing of your crunchy hair,

a crackle of avenging light,

light or deadly sword that threatens my neck,

but that it can never destroy the unity of this world.

Author: Vicente Aleixandre

5- Rhyme LIII

The dark swallows will return

on your balcony their nests to hang,

and again with the wing to its crystals

playing they will call

But those that the flight restrained

your beauty and my happiness to contemplate,

those who learned our names…

Those… won’t come back!

The bushy honeysuckles will return

from your garden the walls to climb,

and again in the evening even more beautiful

its flowers will open.

But those, curdled with dew

whose drops we watched tremble

and fall like tears of the day…

Those… won’t come back!

They will return from love in your ears

the burning words to sound;

your heart from its deep sleep

maybe he will wake up

But mute and absorbed and on their knees

as God is worshiped before his altar,

as I have loved you…; undeceive yourself,

so… they won’t love you!

Author: Gustavo Adolfo Becquer


Federico Garcia Lorca poems. Recovered from federicogarcialorca.net
Poems by Lope de Vega. Recovered from poems-of-the-soul.com
Vicente Aleixandre poems. Recovered from poetry.as

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