Vince Varga
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Poems

My poem

  • The library is pretty
  • And so are books
  • Deep

Dreams

  • Hold fast to dreams
  • For if dreams die
  • Life is a broken-winged bird
  • That cannot fly.
  • Hold fast to dreams
  • For when dreams go
  • Life is a barren field
  • Frozen with snow.

Delayed till she had ceased to know

  • DELAYED till she had ceased to know,
  • Delayed till in its vest of snow
  • Her loving bosom lay.
  • An hour behind the fleeting breath,
  • Later by just an hour than death,—
  • Oh, lagging yesterday!
  • Could she have guessed that it would be;
  • Could but a crier of the glee
  • Have climbed the distant hill;
  • Had not the bliss so slow a pace,—
  • Who knows but this surrendered face
  • Were undefeated still?
  • Oh, if there may departing be
  • Any forgot by victory
  • In her imperial round,
  • Show them this meek apparelled thing,
  • That could not stop to be a king,
  • Doubtful if it be crowned!

A Julia de Burgos

  • Ya las gentes murmuran que yo soy tu enemiga
  • porque dicen que en verso doy al mundo mi yo.
  • Mienten, Julia de Burgos. Mienten, Julia de Burgos.
  • La que se alza en mis versos no es tu voz: es mi voz
  • porque tú eres ropaje y la esencia soy yo; y el más
  • profundo abismo se tiende entre las dos.
  • Tú eres fria muñeca de mentira social,
  • y yo, viril destello de la humana verdad.
  • Tú, miel de cortesana hipocresías; yo no;
  • que en todos mis poemas desnudo el corazón.
  • Tú eres como tu mundo, egoísta;
  • yo no; que en todo me lo juego a ser lo que soy yo.
  • Tú eres sólo la grave señora señorona; yo no,
  • yo soy la vida, la fuerza, la mujer.
  • Tú eres de tu marido, de tu amo; yo no;
  • yo de nadie, o de todos, porque a todos, a
  • todos en mi limpio sentir y en mi pensar me doy.
  • Tú te rizas el pelo y te pintas; yo no;
  • a mí me riza el viento, a mí me pinta el sol.
  • Tú eres dama casera, resignada, sumisa,
  • atada a los prejuicios de los hombres; yo no;
  • que yo soy Rocinante corriendo desbocado
  • olfateando horizontes de justicia de Dios.
  • Tú en ti misma no mandas;
  • a ti todos te mandan; en ti mandan tu esposo, tus
  • padres, tus parientes, el cura, el modista,
  • el teatro, el casino, el auto,
  • las alhajas, el banquete, el champán, el cielo
  • y el infierno, y el que dirán social.
  • En mí no, que en mí manda mi solo corazón,
  • mi solo pensamiento; quien manda en mí soy yo.
  • Tú, flor de aristocracia; y yo, la flor del pueblo.
  • Tú en ti lo tienes todo y a todos se
  • lo debes, mientras que yo, mi nada a nadie se la debo.
  • Tú, clavada al estático dividendo ancestral,
  • y yo, un uno en la cifra del divisor
  • social somos el duelo a muerte que se acerca fatal.
  • Cuando las multitudes corran alborotadas
  • dejando atrás cenizas de injusticias quemadas,
  • y cuando con la tea de las siete virtudes,
  • tras los siete pecados, corran las multitudes,
  • contra ti, y contra todo lo injusto y lo inhumano,
  • yo iré en medio de ellas con la tea en la mano.

O Captain! My Captain!

  • O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;1
  • The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
  • The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
  • While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
  • But O heart! heart! heart!
  • O the bleeding drops of red,
  • Where on the deck my Captain lies,
  • Fallen cold and dead.
  • O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
  • Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle2 trills,
  • For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
  • For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
  • Here Captain! dear father!
  • This arm beneath your head!
  • It is some dream that on the deck,
  • You’ve fallen cold and dead.
  • My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,3
  • My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
  • The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
  • From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
  • Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
  • But I with mournful tread,
  • Walk the deck my Captain lies,
  • Fallen cold and dead.

Footnotes


  1. The author had just landed in La Guardia Airport after the flight captain died. All the passengers stood up to applaud the co-pilot. We have it in good authority that the event in question led Yoko Ono to write her “Letter to John”:

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