An amazing poet who died at the age of 50 with the name of Ruben Dario. It's a small museum with Ruben's old room, his study, old memorabilia, and his writing and poetry. I assume that he is a poet, but I didn't get to the end yet. The kind boy Luis sits in the corner and reads. He is glancing at me and can tell I am curious about the history. I'm not the person who just stares at everything with no interaction with staff. He closes his book and says,
"Can I help you?"
I say, "Yes, who is Ruben Dario."
He begins to laugh and explains his history in English. His pronunciation is cute as he forgets some words. He says Ruben was a poet, an educator, a politician- he was always traveling to different countries especially Argentina and Spain. Being Priscilla, I ask about his family life, his time in Leon, his life problems, his education, and how many books he wrote. He wrote twenty eight books and had two
brothers and sisters. Being a writer, I am fixated on how many books people write and by what age. My grandfather wrote over 50 books by the age of 81.
As for Ruben, he was like the many poets who suffered from mental illness or addiction. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol leaving him with cerrosis and dying at age 49. It's a whole other post about writing and addiction, but he this talented man was too young to die. He did so much for the city of Leon and he broke down boundaries and established important connections abroad.
My name is Kaspar. I the incense bear.The glamour of the Star has made me wise.I say that love is vaster than the skies.And God exits. And Life is pure and fair.
-My name is Melchior. And my myrrh scents all.There is God. He is the light of morn.The fairest blossoms from the dust are born,And joy is shadowed by a threatful pall.-My name is Balthasar. I bring a wreathOf Orient gold, my gift. I come to say That God exists. I know all by the rayOf starry light upon the crown of Death.
-Balthasar, Melchior, Kaspar, be ye still.Love triumphs and has bid you to his feast.Radiance has filled the void, the night has ceased:Wearing Life's crown, Christ comes to work His
Will.
I say, "Yes, who is Ruben Dario."
He begins to laugh and explains his history in English. His pronunciation is cute as he forgets some words. He says Ruben was a poet, an educator, a politician- he was always traveling to different countries especially Argentina and Spain. Being Priscilla, I ask about his family life, his time in Leon, his life problems, his education, and how many books he wrote. He wrote twenty eight books and had two
brothers and sisters. Being a writer, I am fixated on how many books people write and by what age. My grandfather wrote over 50 books by the age of 81.
As for Ruben, he was like the many poets who suffered from mental illness or addiction. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol leaving him with cerrosis and dying at age 49. It's a whole other post about writing and addiction, but he this talented man was too young to die. He did so much for the city of Leon and he broke down boundaries and established important connections abroad.
Fatality by Ruben Dario
My name is Kaspar. I the incense bear.The glamour of the Star has made me wise.I say that love is vaster than the skies.And God exits. And Life is pure and fair.
-My name is Melchior. And my myrrh scents all.There is God. He is the light of morn.The fairest blossoms from the dust are born,And joy is shadowed by a threatful pall.-My name is Balthasar. I bring a wreathOf Orient gold, my gift. I come to say That God exists. I know all by the rayOf starry light upon the crown of Death.
-Balthasar, Melchior, Kaspar, be ye still.Love triumphs and has bid you to his feast.Radiance has filled the void, the night has ceased:Wearing Life's crown, Christ comes to work His
Will.
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