Jorge Manrique (1440-1479) was a Spanish poet whose main work was the Lyrics on the Death of his Father. It is the most famous poem in the Spanish language. Here we present a summary of this great work.
O let the SOUL, her slumbers break, let THOUGHT be quickened and awake; awake to see how soon this LIFE is PAST and GONE, and how silently DEATH comes STEALING ON!
Swiftly our PLEASURES glide away, our hearts recall the DISTANT day with many sighs; the MOMENTS that are speeding fast we heed not, but the past, - the past, more highly prize.
Onward its course the present keeps, onward the contrast current sweeps, till LIFE IS DONE; and, did we judge of time aright, PAST and FUTURE in their flight would be as one.
Let no one fondly DREAM again, that HOPE and all her shadowy train WILL NOT DECAY; fleeting as were the dreams of old, remembered like a tale that is told, they pass away.
Our lives are rivers, gliding free to that unfathomed, boundless sea, the SILENT GRAVE!
Thither roll all earthly pomp and boast, to be swallowed up and lost in one DARK WAVE.
Thither the mighty torrents stray, thither the brook pursues its way, and tinkling rill, they all are equal; side by side the poor man and the son of pride lie calm and still. ...
To One alone my thoughts arise to the eternal TRUTH, the Good and Wise, to Him I cry, Who shared on earth our common lot, but the world comprehend not His Deity.
This world is but the rugged road which lead us to the bright abode of PEACE above; so let us choose the narrow way, which leads no traveler's foot astray from realms of LOVE, our craddle is the starting place, LIFE is the running of the race, we reach the goal when, in the mansions of the blest, DEATH leaves to its eternal rest the weary soul. But we did use LIFE as we ought, the world would master each wandering thought to its high state. FAITH wings the soul beyond the sky, up to that better world on high, for which we wait.
Yes, the messenger of LOVE, our Saviour came, to guide us to our home above; born mortal, He suffered a death of shame in this valley of tears.
Behold the delusive worth of bubbles of this world that we pursue, the shapes we chase full of deceitful ways; the bubbles vanish when DEATH shuts the eye and leave no trace.
Time steals them from us, chances strange them, disastrous accident probably come, and, all of these is subject to all, even in the most exalted state, the stroke of FAITH is relentless swept that make the strongest fall. ... The cunning skill, the art of the curious, the glorious strength that youth imparts in life's first stage, shall become a heavy weight when TIME swings wide its outward gate to weary age.
... Wealth and the high state of pride, with what untimely speed they glide, how soon they depart. But the inconstant goddess knows no rest, but a world of changing without repose that she continues on and on.
... Earthly desires and sensual lust are passions springing from the dust, they fade and DIED; but, in the LIFE beyond the tomb, they are the ones who seal the spirit immortal's doom eternally! Pleasures and delights are masked treacherous smiles that jeopardize LIFE's serious task, they are all but the fleet coursers of the chase that DEATH ambush in the race just to caught us wondering wherein we fall?
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