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The Night of Insomnia and The Dawn

This poem presents all poetic meters from two syllables to sixteen syllables. Each stanza describes a different sensation of the night and dawn, from the darkness and insomnia of the night to the dawn that brings light and calm. The poem ends by celebrating the glory of the sun and its divine light that inspires the poet to sing its praises.
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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
4 views4 pages

The Night of Insomnia and The Dawn

This poem presents all poetic meters from two syllables to sixteen syllables. Each stanza describes a different sensation of the night and dawn, from the darkness and insomnia of the night to the dawn that brings light and calm. The poem ends by celebrating the glory of the sun and its divine light that inspires the poet to sing its praises.
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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There is a poem by Gertrudis Gómez Avellaneda (Cuban) that

presents all the meters from two syllables (bisyllabic) to


16 syllables. The poem is titled

THE NIGHT OF INSOMNIA AND THE DAWN

2 syllables
Night
sad
you saw
yes.
air.
soil.
sky.
mar.

3 syllables
Looking
of the world
deep
leisure
they scatter.
dreams
lightweight
of peace.

4 syllables
and they enjoy
in lethargy
after the long.
to suffer
the injured
hearts
with visions
to please.

5 syllables
But they always watch over
my sad eyes;
they are prickly
my sad mushroom;
Without the truceS'
of thought
to this torment
breakdown den
6 syllables
The silent rest
my mind is tired
the atmosphere, burning,
it embraces me everywhere;
and surrounding it
with a quick turn,
ghosts that I see
to sprout and grow.

7 syllables
Give me air! I need it.
of immeasurable space,
from insomnia to the scream
let silence rise and speak;
throw me out quickly
of narrow rooms...
I want to measure the sphere!
I want to inhale the winds!

8 syllables
I finally left the gloomy one.
enclosure of my walls.
finally oh. spirit. you can
for the space to vote.
But alas! that the dark night
What an immense sarcophagus.
covers with a thick cloak.
streets. fields. sky. sea.

9 syllables
Not a sound is heard, nor a bird.
the calm breathes disturbed;
silence so deep, so grave.
suspend the breath of the soul.
The world once again plunged
it seems in the nothing fearful:
it seems like time has surrendered
folding. its wings rests.

10 syllables
But what I feel! ... Balsamic atmosphere
what spills suddenly... The hood
from the night tearing. in the East
The light triumphantly makes its way.
It is dawn; the shadows recede
and with clouds of blue and crimson,
ethereal carpets are nuanced
where the lathe rests of the sun.

11 syllables
It breaks the morning vapors.
the dark crest of the neighboring mountain:
the bird is already rehearsing its mellifluous trills
the horizon is becoming clear immense.
After a long night of burning vigil.
the light is more beautiful, the aura more pure.
How this free and fragrant environment
expand the chest, the heart restores!

12 syllables
Which virgin is it that the kiss of flattering love
receives stirred with a sweet blush,
from the king of the stars to the first ray
Nature pulses bathed in dawn.
And thus like a warrior who heard inflamed
of war trumpet the magical voice,
he launches impetuous of fire dressed.
to the field of Ether his swift chariot.

13 syllables
I feel your glory looking sublime.
Noble author of the living and various colors!
I greet you if you purely shade the flowers!
I greet you if you glaze the sparkling sea!
In fire the sapphire sphere that you traverse
and turn your radiant and fecund fire,
it is suspended watching your triumphant march.

14 syllables
Oh, from the burning zone where you have your noble seat,
your rays you cast to my cradle, scorching...
That is why I lift my thoughts on fiery wings,
And my chest burns with the flames of unquenchable love.
But I want your fire to illuminate my longings,
my tears reflect glimmers of your light,
and only when death is near and stiffened
the night mourns its funeral hood.
15 syllables
How horrible it would be for me, shining your fecund fire,
close these eyes that never tire of seeing you,
as long as fiery life burst forth in the world
curdled feeling the blood through ice of death I
united my hoarse final groan shall sound;
that to the placid breath which restores the weary ground
the last breath of the aching chest shall extinguish!

16 syllables
Save, save the quiet night its shadows of mourning,
until the sad moment of the dream that never ends;
and although it hurts my tired eyes from long wakefulness,
give, oh Sun! to my already wilted forehead, your divine flame
and my inspired mind ignited, with fervent accent,
to the rhythm of the resounding lyre, your worthy praises
will launch, tiring the wings of the swift wind,
wherever your sacred glories arrive victorious.

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