Un mensaje de amor incondicional más allá de las fronteras marcadas por uno mismo. Desarrollo de todo lo que uno pueda querer ser o no ser..., y fiel adoración de la persona amada, a quien si es necesario, se hace la ofrenda más alta.
Fina sensibilidad que ya florecía en el siglo XVI.
Garcilaso de la
Vega y Guzmán nació en Toledo el 30 de septiembre de 1499, según la más
reciente hipótesis, y murió en Niza el 13 ó el 14 de octubre de 1536. Conformó
el modelo cabal de caballero renacentista y su obra supuso para nuestra poesía
la asimilación plena de la modernidad y la incorporación de las formas
renacentistas italianas, siendo unánimemente reconocido como “el príncipe de
los poetas en lengua castellana”.
Si encarnó el arquetipo de poeta-soldado no lo fue por propia voluntad sino por
la fuerza de las circunstancias. Dentro de su armadura de maestre de campo y
capitán él se describió como un “conducido mercenario” y sus versos están
llenos del lamento de quien se sentía forzado a ser soldado.
Una primera circunstancia determinó su futuro: Nació segundón, en el seno de
una familia de la mediana aristocracia castellana, y, al uso de la época, sus
padres organizaron su destino orientándolo hacia el servicio del rey.
Su vida parecía abocada a brillar en una corte refinada como correspondía a la
época del esplendor renacentista; pero sobre su existencia gravitará
determinantemente la personalidad militarista e itinerante de Carlos V, menos
humanista que soldado, que arrastró la biografía de nuestro poeta por los
campos de batalla, persiguiendo un sueño de imperio al que Garcilaso terminará
sacrificando su vida.
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Escrito está
en mi alma vuestro gesto
y cuanto yo
escribir de vos deseo:
vos sola lo
escribisteis; yo lo leo
tan solo que
aun de vos me guardo en esto.
En esto
estoy y estaré siempre puesto
que aunque
no cabe en mí cuanto en vos veo,
de tanto
bien lo que no entiendo creo,
tomando ya
la fe por presupuesto.
Yo no nací
sino para quereros;
mi alma os
ha cortado a su medida;
por hábitos
del alma misma os quiero;
cuanto tengo
confieso yo deberos;
por vos
nací, por vos tengo la vida,
por vos he
de morir, y por vos muero.
===============
Your gestures have been written in my soul
Along with all I want to write of you:
Alone you write, alone I read it too,
Alone, your presence comes in my control.
On this I'll stand, and it's my present goal
Though I can never grasp your total view,
So much more good than I can yet construe,
Here we assume that faith must play a role.
And I was born to love you, this I'll stress,
My soul trims you to fit, as with a knife,
You, garment of my soul, my love I vow ...
All that I have, I owe you, I'll confess,
Born for you, through you I now have my life,
For you I'll die, for you I'm dying now.
Born in
1941 in Valencia, Spain, Royo began demonstrating
his artistic talent early. At the age of 9 his father, a prominent physician
and avid art enthusiast, employed private tutors to instruct Royo in drawing,
painting, and sculpture. When Royo turned 14 he entered
the San Carlos Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Valencia. Upon turning 18 Royo continued his
artistic studies privately with Aldolfo Ferrer Amblat, Chairman of Art
Studies at the San Carlos Academy. He also visited the major museums in Europe
at this time to study the famous masters-Velasquez, Goya, Renoir, Monet, and Sorolla among
others.
Impressive parallels can also be drawn between Royo's work and that of the Spanish master, Joaquin Sorolla. Both were born in Valencia, both were classically trained, both "matured" into styles of painting capturing the dramatic visual essence of their homeland-Valencia and the Mediterranean Sea. They have both been described as "painters of the Light"; some have said, "of the Light of the South," that is, the southern coast of Spain. It is the overwhelming influence of Sorolla blended with his own style that make Royo's masterful treatment of the Mediterranean subjects both haunting and mysterious, yet full of raw power at the same time. The sweeping brush strokes, bold swaths of color, and heavy impasto capture the eye and draws one inward until that final absolute moment of awareness that one is actually there in the scene feeling the light and heat of the sun, the salt and sea spray, and hearing the crashing surf. Royo conveys not merely image, but mood and atmosphere as well. This is rare in today's art world, hence the connoisseur is compelled to compare with the old masters. Thus, the appeal of Royo's work for today's collector becomes obvious. With pride we offer the art work of today's Spanish master painter, Royo, to the art connoisseurs of the world.
Impressive parallels can also be drawn between Royo's work and that of the Spanish master, Joaquin Sorolla. Both were born in Valencia, both were classically trained, both "matured" into styles of painting capturing the dramatic visual essence of their homeland-Valencia and the Mediterranean Sea. They have both been described as "painters of the Light"; some have said, "of the Light of the South," that is, the southern coast of Spain. It is the overwhelming influence of Sorolla blended with his own style that make Royo's masterful treatment of the Mediterranean subjects both haunting and mysterious, yet full of raw power at the same time. The sweeping brush strokes, bold swaths of color, and heavy impasto capture the eye and draws one inward until that final absolute moment of awareness that one is actually there in the scene feeling the light and heat of the sun, the salt and sea spray, and hearing the crashing surf. Royo conveys not merely image, but mood and atmosphere as well. This is rare in today's art world, hence the connoisseur is compelled to compare with the old masters. Thus, the appeal of Royo's work for today's collector becomes obvious. With pride we offer the art work of today's Spanish master painter, Royo, to the art connoisseurs of the world.
¡Magnifico¡ Carlos pinturas preciosas y ¡que¡ te voy a decir de lo de mas es tan maravilloso lo que haces.
ResponderEliminarNo me podrán quitar el dolorido
sentir, si ya primero
no me quitan el sentido.
Maravilloso... sobran palabras, sobran comentarios; es solo imaginar, sentir, vivir...simplemente: maravilloso.
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