The 20 best poems by Antonio Machado (and their meaning)
Antonio Machado was a Sevillian poet born in 1875 who left a great legacy within Spanish Modernism. He was part of the so-called Generation of ’98, and was chosen as a member of the Royal Spanish Academy.
Among his published books, some of them stand out, such as “Solitudes” (1907), “Fields of Castile” (1912) and “The War” (1937). In this article we propose you the 20 best poems by Antonio Machado (and their meaning).
The 20 best poems by Antonio Machado (and their meaning)
Therefore, we present some of Machado’s most outstanding poems , and briefly explain their meaning or interpretation.
1. To a dry elm
To the old elm, cleft by lightning
and in its rotten half,
with the April rains and May sunshine
some green leaves have come out.
The ancient elm on the hill
to lick the Duero! A yellowish moss
stains the whitish bark
to the dusty, gnawed-out trunk.
It shall not be, as the singing poplars
who guard the road and the shore,
inhabited by nightingale browns.
Army of ants in a row
is climbing through it, and in its bowels
their gray webs are spider-woven.
Before I strike you down, elm of the Duero,
with his axe the woodcutter, and the carpenter
turn you into a bell’s hair,
cart or cart yoke spear;
before red at home, tomorrow,
burn in some miserable hut,
at the side of a road;
before I take a whirlwind from you
and cut off the breath of the white saws;
before the river to the sea pushes you
through valleys and ravines,
elm, I want to write down in my wallet
the grace of your greenish branch.
My heart awaits
also, towards the light and towards life,
another miracle of spring.
- Poem written in 1912, date in which Machado suffered the death of his wife Leonor . The poem has a very marked cadence; at first it has a very pessimistic tone, which gradually leads to a more hopeful one. There is a clear parallelism between the poem and Machado’s vital moment. In this poem Machado uses many adjectives, many negatives, marking the pessimistic character of the initial verses.
2. Last night when I was sleeping
Last night when I was sleeping
I dreamed, blessed illusion!
that a fountain was flowing
inside my heart.
Say: why hidden ditch,
water, you come to me,
spring of new life
where I never drank?
Last night when I was sleeping
I dreamed, blessed illusion!
that a beehive had
inside my heart;
and the golden bees
were making in it,
with the old bitterness,
white wax and sweet honey.
Last night when I was sleeping
I dreamed, blessed illusion!
that a burning sun was shining
inside my heart.
It was hot because it gave
heats of home red,
and it was sunny because it gave light
and because it made you cry.
Last night when I was sleeping
I dreamed, blessed illusion!
that it was God who had
inside my heart
- The poem speaks of a dream, more specifically, of a yearning to which one aspires and which ends up not being . Three main elements can be considered: heart, source and beehive, which provide life, food and energy.
3. Portrait
My childhood are memories of a courtyard in Seville
and a light garden where the lemon tree ripens;
my youth, twenty years in the land of Castile;
my history, some cases I don’t want to remember.
(tixag
but my verse springs from a serene spring;
and, more than a common man who knows his doctrine,
I am, in the good sense of the word, well.
I love beauty, and in modern aesthetics
I cut the old roses from Ronsard’s garden;
but I don’t love current cosmetic shaving
and I’m not one of those new gay-trina birds.
I disdain the romances of the hollow tenors
and the chorus of crickets singing to the moon.
To distinguish between voices and echoes,
and I hear only one among the voices.
Am I classic or romantic? I don’t know. I’d like to leave
my verse as the captain leaves his sword:
famous for the virile hand that wielded it,
not by the learned craft of the precious forger.
I talk to the man who always goes with me
-who speaks only hopes to speak to God one day;
my soliloquy is talk with this good friend
who taught me the secret of philanthropy.
And after all, I owe you nothing; you owe me what I have written.
To my work I go, with my money I pay
the suit that covers me and the mansion I inhabit,
the bread that feeds me and the bed where I lie.
And when the day of the last journey arrives
and be to leave the ship that shall never return,
you will find me on board lightweight luggage,
almost naked, like the children of the sea.
- This poem speaks of Machado’s past; childhood and youth, from a nostalgic tone . Elements of love, of death, and also of self-consciousness appear.
4. Prelude
As the shadow passes from a holy love, today I want
put a sweet psalm on my old lectern.
I will agree on the notes of the stern organ
by the fragrant sigh of the April fife.
The autumn pomegranate aroma will mature;
myrrh and frankincense shall chant their scent;
the rosebushes will exhale their fresh scent,
under the peaceful shade of the warm blossoming garden.
To the low slow chord of music and aroma,
the only old and noble reason for my prayer
will take off in a gentle pigeon flight,
and the white word will rise to the altar.
- In this poem, the author speaks, with a very subtle language, of the illusion of a new love that Machado is present, will arrive and to which he wants to be prepared.
5. The arrow
Said a popular voice:
“Who lends me a ladder
to climb the tree
to remove the nails
to Jesus the Nazarene?”
Oh, the arrow, the singing
to the Christ of the Gypsies
always with blood on your hands
always for unlocking.
Song of the Andalusian people
that every spring
he’s asking for stairs
to get on the cross.
Song of the land of mine
that throws flowers
the Jesus of the agony
and it is the faith of my elders
Oh, you’re not my singing
I can’t sing, nor do I want to
this Jesus of the wood
but the one who walked on the sea!
- This is a religious poem, more specifically, a criticism of the Andalusian religion . The poet does not identify with the Jesus Christ who represents God, as a static and immobile symbol, but rather with a Jesus Christ who works and develops actions.
6. I dreamt that you took me
I dreamt that you took me
by a white sidewalk,
in the middle of the green field,
towards the blue of the mountains,
towards the blue mountains,
a serene morning.
I felt your hand in mine,
your partner hand,
7. Winter sun
It’s noon. A park.
Winter. White paths;
symmetrical mounds
and skeletal branches.
Under the greenhouse,
potted orange trees,
and in its barrel, painted
in green, the palm tree.
An old man says,
for your old coat:
“The sun, this beauty
of sunshine!…” The children play.
Water from the source
slip, run and dream
licking, almost mute,
the verdant stone.
- Very descriptive poem, in which a park is staged with all its elements ; trees, landscape tones, water from the fountain, etc.
8. When it’s my life…
When it’s my life,
all clear and light
like a good river
that runs happily
to the sea,
to the sea ignores
waiting
full of sunshine and song.
And when it sprouts in me
heart the spring
it will be you, my life,
inspiration
of my new poem.
A song of peace and love
to the rhythm of blood
that runs through the veins.
A song of love and peace.
Just sweet things and words.
Meanwhile,
meanwhile, keep the golden key
of my verses
among your jewels.
Put it away and wait.
- Romantic poem in which poetry is enhanced in itself ; Machado talks about keeping the key to his verses, among the jewels, giving them an undeniably high value.
9. Tips
This love that wants to be
will soon be;
but when is he coming back
what just happened?
Today is far from yesterday.
Yesterday is Neverland!
Coin in hand
maybe it should be saved:
the coin of the soul
is lost if it doesn’t happen.
- Poem that talks about a love relationship that seems to be about to pass and the will to immortalize it afterwards . He has feelings of frustration and a little bit of grief.
10. Spring was passing…
Spring was kissing
gently the grove,
and the new green sprouted
like a green smoke.
The clouds were passing by
about the youth camp…
I saw in the leaves shaking
the fresh rains of April.
Under that flowery almond tree,
all loaded with flower
-I remembered-, I have cursed
my loveless youth.
Today in the middle of life,
I stopped to meditate…
Youth never lived,
who would dream of you again!
- Another highly descriptive poem, following a little bit the line of the previous ones . It talks about elements of nature; clouds, fresh leaves, flowers, trees, etc.
11. Field
The afternoon is dying
like a humble home that goes out.
There, on the mountains,
there are some embers left.
And that broken tree on the white road
makes you cry for pity.
Two branches on the injured trunk, and one
withered black leaf on every branch!
Do you cry? …Among the golden poplars,
far away, the shadow of love awaits you. (
on the old shore,
and you will find a pure morning
tied your boat to another shore.
- Poem that talks about the future , about becoming hopeful.
13. To the desert square
To the desert square
drives a maze of alleys.
On one side, the old shadow wall
of a ruined church;
on the other hand, the whitish wall
of a cypress and palm garden,
and, in front of me, the house,
and in the house the fence
before the slightly fogging glass
his placid, smiling figurine.
I’ll step aside. I don’t want to
knock on your window… Spring
comes –your white dress
floats in the air of the dead place–;
comes to light the roses
red from your rosebushes… I want to see her…
- Poem in which Machado describes a square that probably belongs to his hometown . He describes the square as deserted, a little dry. Finally the description takes us to the house where his girlfriend supposedly lives.
14. Love and the Saw
I was riding through the sour mountain,
one afternoon, among ashen rocks.
The leaden ball of the storm
from mountain to mountain bouncing could be heard.
Suddenly, in the brightness of the lightning,
reared up, under a tall pine tree,
at the edge of the rock, his horse.
It turned the road upside down.
And he had seen the cloud torn,
and, inside, the sharp crest
from another, softer, raised saw
-stone lightning seemed.
And did you see the face of God? He saw the face of his beloved.
He shouted: “Die in this cold mountain!
- Romantic poem in which a man (knight, on his horse) goes looking for his beloved in the mountains.
15. Walking No Way
Walker, it’s your footprints
the way and nothing else;
Walker, no path,
it makes its way as you walk.
As you walk, you make a path,
and looking back
you see the path that never
has to be stepped on again.
Walking No Way
but wakes in the sea.
- Well-known poem by Machado; it speaks of the path one takes in life . He approaches life as a blank canvas, and one has to weave it as one lives, leaving the past behind. It was set to music by Joan Manuel Serrat.
16. Autumn Dawn
A long road
among craggy greys,
and some humble meadow
where they graze black bulls. Blackberries, weeds, pitchers.
Is the soil wet
by dew drops,
and the golden avenue,
towards the bend in the river.
Behind the mountains of violet
broken the first dawn:
the back of the shotgun,
among his sharp greyhounds, walking a hunter.
- In this poem we can see a contrast between nature and man (hunter) that appears in it.
17. Garden
Away from your garden burns the afternoon
gold incense in glittering flames,
behind the copper and ash forest.
There are dahlias in your garden.
Malhaya your garden!… Today I think
the work of a hairdresser,
with that poor little dwarf palm,
and that picture of cut-out myrtles…
and the little orange tree in its barrel… The water
from the stone fountain
he doesn’t stop laughing about the white shell.
- This is another poem by Machado in which the cabbages abound
In vain yesterday will beget a tomorrow
Empty and by chance, a passing one.
It will be a young owl and tarambana,
a bolero sayon,
realistic French fashion
a little bit to the use of pagan Paris
and Spanish style specialist
in the vice at hand.
That inferior Spain that prays and yawns,
old and dull, sordid and sad;
that inferior Spain that prays and charges,
when he deigns to use his head,
you will still have a male birth
lovers of sacred traditions
and in sacred ways and forms;
apostolic beards will flourish,
and other bald spots on other skulls
will shine, venerable and Catholic.
The vain yesterday will beget a tomorrow
empty and, perchance! passenger,
the shadow of a Tarambana owl,
of a bolero sayon;
yesterday’s vacuum will give a fleeting tomorrow.
Like the nausea of a drunken glutton
of bad wine, a red sun crown
of cloudy stools the granite peaks;
there is a morning stomach written
in the pragmatic and sweet afternoon.
But another Spain is born,
the Spain of the chisel and the mace,
with that eternal youthfulness that is made
of the race’s massive past.
A relentless and redemptive Spain,
Spain at dawn
with an axe in the avenging hand,
Spain of rage and of the idea.
- Poem that talks about the future of Spain from Machado’s point of view . A rather pessimistic future, with a society that is not very hardworking and has few ambitions.
19. Horizon
On a clear and wide evening like boredom,
when his spear wields the torrid summer,
copied the ghost of a serious dream of mine
a thousand shadows in theory, upright on the plain.
The glory of the sunset was a purple mirror,
was a crystal of flames, which to the infinite old
was throwing the serious dreaming on the plain…
And I felt the sound spur of my passage
to have a far-reaching effect on the bloody sunset,
and beyond that, the joyful song of pure dawn.
- The theme of the poem the inevitable passage of time . There are moments when the pause comes, the calm. But finally everything continues, the course of things does not stop.
20. Bad dreams
There is the shadow square;
dies the day.
The bells are ringing far away.
Of balconies and windows
the stained glass windows are illuminated,
with deathly reflexes,
like whitish bones
and blurry skulls.
All afternoon shines
a nightmare light.
There’s the sunset.
My step echoes.
Is that you? I was expecting you…
Aren’t you the one I was looking for?
- Very visual poem in which it talks about a stage and specific moments, emphasizing the different shades of light (square, dark, the windows are illuminated…) It is more of a romantic poem, since at the end it addresses someone in particular and tells him/her that it was waiting for him/her, with rhetorical questions.