6 Stanza Poems By Known Authors (with Author)

I leave you a list of poems of 6 stanzas by well-known authors like Vicente Aleixandre, Lope de Vega or Federico García Lorca. A poem is a composition that uses the literary resources of poetry. 

The poem can be written in different ways, but it is generally in verse . This means that it is made up of phrases or sentences written on separate lines and grouped into sections called stanzas.

Each of these lines usually rhyme with each other, that is, a similar vowel sound, especially in the last word of the lines, although this is not a rule nor is it true in all poems. On the contrary, there are many poems without any rhyme.

Nor is there any rule that determines the length of poems. There are very long or single-line ones.However, a standard length is between three and six stanzas, long enough to convey an idea or feeling through poetry.

List of 6-stanza poems by renowned authors

1- Streets and dreams

Dreamless City (Brooklyn Bridge Nighttime)

 

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody nobody.

Nobody sleeps.

The creatures of the moon smell and haunt their huts.

Live iguanas will come to bite men who do not dream

And the one who runs away with a broken heart will find around the corners

to the incredible crocodile still under the tender protest of the stars.

Nobody sleeps for the world. Nobody nobody.

Nobody sleeps.

 

There is a dead man in the farthest graveyard

who complains three years

because it has a dry landscape on the knee;

and the boy they buried this morning cried so hard

that it was necessary to call the dogs to shut up.

 

Life is not a dream. Alert! Alert! Alert!

We fall down the stairs to eat the wet earth

Or we climb the edge of the snow with the chorus of dead dahlias.

But there is no forgetfulness, no dream:

live meat. Kisses tie mouths

in a tangle of fresh veins

and the one who hurts his pain will hurt without rest

and those who fear death will carry it on their shoulders.

 

One day

the horses will live in the taverns

and the angry ants

They will attack the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of the cows.

Another day

we will see the resurrection of the stuffed butterflies

and still walking through a landscape of gray sponges and dumb ships

we will see our ring shine and roses flow from our tongue.

Alert! Alert! Alert!

To those who still keep footprints of claw and downpour,

to that boy who cries because he does not know the invention of the bridge

or to that dead man who no longer has more than a head and a shoe,

you have to take them to the wall where iguanas and serpents wait,

where the bear’s teeth await,

where the child’s mummified hand waits

and the camel’s skin bristles with a violent blue chill.

 

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody nobody.

Nobody sleeps.

But if someone closes their eyes

Spank him, my children, spank him!

There is a wide-eyed panorama

and bitter sores on fire.

Nobody sleeps for the world. Nobody nobody.

 

I said it already.

Nobody sleeps.

But if someone has excess moss on their temples at night,

open the hatches so I can see under the moon

the fake glasses, the poison and the skull of the theaters.

Author: Federico García Lorca

2- New songs

The afternoon says: “I thirst for shade!”

The moon says: “Yo, thirst for stars!”

The crystal fountain asks for lips

and the wind sighs.

 

I thirst for aromas and laughter,

thirst for new songs

without moons and without lilies,

and without dead loves.

 

A song of tomorrow that shakes

to the still pools

of the future. And fill with hope

its waves and its silts.

 

A luminous and calm song

full of thought,

virginal of sadness and anguish

and virginal of dreams.

 

Sing without lyrical meat that fills

of laughter the silence

(a flock of blind pigeons

thrown into mystery).

 

Sing that goes to the soul of things

and to the soul of the winds

and may he finally rest in joy

of the eternal heart.

Author: Federico García Lorca

3- On a pleasant beach

On a pleasant beach

to whom the Turia pearls offered

of its tiny sand,

and the sea of ​​crystal Spain covered,

Belisa was alone,

crying to the sound of the water and the waves.

 

“Fierce, cruel husband!”

eyes made fountains, he repeated,

and the sea, as envious,

I went to the ground for tears;

and glad to catch them,

he keeps them in shells and turns them into pearls.

 

«Traitor, who are you now

in other arms and death you leave

the soul that adores you,

and you give the wind tears and complaints,

if you come back here,

you will see that I am an example of women.

 

That in this raging sea

I will find temperance from my fire,

offering game

body to water, hope to wind;

that will not have peace

less than in so many waters so much fire.

 

Oh tiger! If you were

in this chest where you used to be,

dying I, you die;

I have more clothes in my guts

in which you will see that I kill,

for want of your life, your portrait ».

 

Was already thrown, when

a dolphin came out with a loud roar,

and she, to see him trembling,

turned his back on face and death,

saying: «If it is so ugly,

I live, and die who my evil wishes ».

Author: Lope de Vega

4- Unity in it

Happy body that flows between my hands,

beloved face where I contemplate the world,

where funny birds are copied fugitives,

flying to the region where nothing is forgotten.

 

Your external shape, diamond or hard ruby,

shine of a sun that dazzles between my hands,

crater that summons me with its intimate music, with that

indecipherable call of your teeth.

 

I die because I throw myself, because I want to die,

because I want to live in fire, because this outside air

not mine but hot breath

that if I approach it burns and gilds my lips from a depth.

 

Leave, let me look, dyed with love,

your face reddened by your purple life,

let me see the deep cry of your insides

where I die and give up living forever.

 

I want love or death, I want to die at all

I want to be you, your blood, that roaring lava

that watering enclosed beautiful extreme limbs

thus feel the beautiful limits of life.

 

This kiss on your lips like a slow thorn

like a sea that flew into a mirror,

like the brightness of a wing,

it’s still hands, a review of your crisp hair,

a crackling of avenging light,

light or mortal sword that threatens my neck,

but that it can never destroy the unity of this world.

Author: Vicente Aleixandre

5- Rhyme LIII

The dark swallows will return

their nests to hang on your balcony,

and again with the wing to its crystals

playing they will call.

 

But those that the flight held back

your beauty and my happiness to contemplate,

those who learned our names …

Those … will not return !.

 

The bushy honeysuckle will return

from your garden the walls to climb,

and again in the evening even more beautiful

its flowers will open.

 

But those, curdled with dew

whose drops we watched tremble

and fall like tears of the day …

Those … will not return!

 

They will return from the love in your ears

the fiery words to sound;

your heart from its deep sleep

maybe it will wake up.

 

But mute and absorbed and on my knees

as God is worshiped before his altar,

as I have loved you …; get away with it,

Well … they won’t love you!

Author: Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

References

  1. Poem and its elements: stanza, verse, rhyme. Recovered from portaleducativo.net
  2. Poem. Recovered from es.wikipedia.org
  3. Poems by Federico García Lorca. Recovered from federicogarcialorca.net
  4. Poems by Lope de Vega. Recovered from poemas-del-alma.com
  5. Poems by Vicente Aleixandre. Recovered from poesi.as
  6. Poems by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. Recovered from poemas-del-alma.com

Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *