Marte

Lenta se avanza la Noche
Con gran silencio, y la luna
Pálida en el dorabo etéreo
Su menguada faz oculta.

Sola la luz de los astros
Cielo y tierra fría alumbra,
Y Marte, el rojo planeta,
Lugar preeminente ocupa.

¿Es del amor y los sueños
Ese el astro por ventura?
No; que armado un héroe brilla
Tras esa tienda cerúlea.

Cuando mis ojos contemplan
En la soledad nocturna,
Suspensa en el éter vago
Tu centellante armadura.

¡Numen del valor sereno!
Entiendo tus señas mudas,
Siento que mis fuerzas crecen,
Cesa el afán que me turba.

Sola la luz de los astros
Fría mi espíritu alumbra,
Y Marte, el rojo planeta,
Lugar preeminente ocupa.

Él, con la calma que inspira,
Me domina y me subyuga,
Como símbolo de firme
Voluntad que calla y triunfa.

¡Oh, tú, quienquiera que seas
Que este mi cantar escuchas,
Si tus bellas esperanzas
Viste morir una á una,

Cobra el ánimo perdido,
Vuelve esforzado á la lucha.
¡Gloria al hombre que combate
Siempre, y no desmaya nunca!

Collection: 
1827

More from Poet

  • It was the schooner Hesperus That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper...

  • This is the arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah! what a sound will rise—how wild and dreary— When the death-angel touches those swift keys! What loud lament...

  • From “The Building of the Ship” THOU, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each...

  • “SPEAK! 1 speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me?” Then from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when...

  • Taddeo Gaddi built me. I am old, Five centuries old. I plant my foot of stone Upon the Arno, as Saint Michael’s own Was planted on the dragon. Fold by fold Beneath me as it struggles, I behold Its glistening scales. Twice hath it overthrown My kindred and companions. Me alone It moveth...