Poems by Machado de Assis

Machado de Assis is an internationally prestigious writer and recognized as one of the most important authors of the Portuguese language. His work has already been translated into several languages ​​and is certainly among the classics of Universal Literature. In Brazil, it is considered the greatest expression of our Literature, and his work, more than a hundred years after his death, remains relevant and an indispensable requirement for those who want to know a little more about our production. literary.

Unparalleled prose writer, writer of fine and delicious ironies — perhaps the most interesting feature of his speech —, Machado de Assis also wrote verses. Although Machado de Assis' poetry is less known, the books are his Chrysalis, from 1864, Phales, from 1870, American, from 1875, and complete poems, 1901. The truth is that his short stories, chronicles, novels and theatrical production are still widespread today, while his poetic production still needs to be discovered, revisited and appreciated. Exploring the lesser-known facet of the Wizard of Cosme Velho, Brasil Escola brings

five poems by Machado de Assis for you to know and admire. Good reading!

Machado and Carolina were married for thirty-five years. On the occasion of his wife's death, the writer wrote the poem A Carolina
Machado and Carolina were married for thirty-five years. On the occasion of his wife's death, the writer wrote the poem Carolina

Carolina

Dear! At the foot of the last bed,

where do you rest from this long life,

here I come and come, poor dear,

bring you the heart of a companion.

That true affection pulses

that, despite all the human reads,

made our existence desirable

and in a corner he put a whole world...

I bring you flowers, - ripped scraps

from the land that saw us pass united

and now dead leave us and separated;

that I, if I have, in the evil eyes,

formulated life thoughts,

they are thoughts gone and lived.

ERROR

Error is yours. I loved you one day 

With this passing love 

that is born in fantasy 

And it doesn't reach the heart;

It wasn't love, it was just 

A slight impression;

An indifferent wanting,

In your presence, alive,

Dead, if you were absent,

And if you see me elusive,

If, as before, you don't see 

my poet incense 

I'll burn at your feet,

It's just that — as the work of a day,

You passed this fantasy on to me.

For me to love you you should 

Another being and not how you were.

Your frivolous chimeras,

Your vain love of yourself,

this icy pendulum 

What you called heart,

They were very weak links 

for the enamored soul 

Get me arrested;

Tries were unsuccessful,

The bad luck came against you,

And although little, you lost 

the glory of dragging me 

To your car... Vain chimeras!

For me to love you you should 

Another being and not as you were...

(Chrysalis - 1864)

BOOKS AND FLOWERS 

Your eyes are my books.

What better book is there,

in what better to read 

The love page?

Flowers are to me your lips.

Where there is the most beautiful flower,

where best to drink 

The balm of love?

(Falenas - 1870)

Machado de Assis, highlighted, among a group of intellectuals, politicians and writers. Photograph from the National Library collection
Machado de Assis, highlighted, among a group of intellectuals, politicians and writers. Photograph from the National Library collection

EPITAPH OF MEXICO 

Bend your knee: — it's a grave.

shrouded underneath 

lies the tepid corpse 

Of an annihilated people;

The melancholy prayer Prays him around the cross.

before the astonished universe 

The strange game has opened,

The fervent fight was fought 

Of strength and justice;

Against justice, oh century,

He defeated the sword and the shell.

Indomitable strength has conquered;

But the unfortunate loser 

The hurt, the pain, the hate,

on the debased face 

he spat at her. And the eternal blemish 

Your laurels will wither.

And when the fateful voice 

of holy freedom 

come on prosperous days 

cry out to humanity,

So I revive Mexico 

From the grave will appear.

(Chrysalis - 1864)

the worm 

There is a flower that closes 

Heavenly dew and perfume.

Planted it in fertile land 

Beneficial hand of a nume.

A disgusting and ugly worm,

Generated in deadly slime,

Search this virgin flower 

And go to sleep on her breast.

Bite, bleed, tear and mine,

It sucks your life and breath;

The flower the chalice tilts;

The leaves, the wind takes them.

Afterwards, there's no perfume left 

In the air of solitude...

This flower is the heart,

That worm the jealousy.

(Falenas - 1870)
By Luana Castro
Graduated in Letters

Source: Brazil School - https://brasilescola.uol.com.br/literatura/poemas-machado-assis.htm

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