#JuliadeBurgos

[vamos-a-aprender-espanol]

https://vamosaaprenderespanol.blogspot.com/2024/11/poesia-en-movimiento-cancion-amarga-de.html

[bondvagabond]

#JuliaDeBurgos #bornthisday 1914 #art by @vgbnd ©️ #FreePuertoRico #RICANSTRUCTION #borinqueña https://www.instagram.com/p/Co03TN6OA6C/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[leftwinglibertarian914]

(via juliadeburgos-blog-blog)

Arts and Entertainment Julia de Burgos (1917-1953)

A much-loved icon in Puerto Rican/Hispanic literature, Julia de Burgos’ life and work continues to inspire readers 50 years after her death. De Burgos’ impoverished upbringing and deep sensitivity to social injustice formed the basis of her lyrical and revolutionary poetry.

De Burgos overcame numerous obstacles during her lifetime, not the least of which was the prevailing standard of behavior for women. Hers was a clear and audible voice that transcended the norm for women. According to Publishers Weekly, “Writing in the 1930s through the 1950s, de Burgos was ahead of her time in grasping connections between history, the body, politics, love, self-negation and feminism that would later prove to be the foundations for writers like [Adrienne] Rich and [Sylvia] Plath.”

De Burgos joined a literary protest against European colonialism and its denigration of African culture, and was an ardent supporter of Puerto Rican independence. De Burgos died in a Harlem hospital in 1953. Almost immediately after her death, de Burgos was honored by esteemed Hispanic writers and political figures, and her final collection of original poems, El mar y tu y otros peomas, was published in 1954.

Text source: Notable Hispanic American Women, Gale, 1998; Biography Resource Center, Gale, 1999. Photo source: Curbstone Press.

[pgcclibrary]

Julia de Burgos was one of the foremost poets to come out of Puerto Rico in the first half of the twentieth century. Her poverty-stricken background and African heritage were factors in the evolution of the revolutionary politics de Burgos espoused as part of the independence movement in Puerto Rico. ⁣⠀ ⁣⠀ She also attracted attention for her unconventional lifestyle: she divorced her first husband and lived openly with her lover at a time when such behavior was virtually unthinkable for most Puerto Rican women.⁣

Becoming Julia de Burgos: The Making of a Puerto Rican Icon (eBook)⁣

Julia de Burgos: Child of Water (drama)⁣

Source: "Julia de Burgos." Notable Hispanic American Women, Gale, 1998. Gale In Context: Biography

[cadexh]

No hay una sola brisa que no sepa mi sombra ni camino que no alargue mi canción hasta el cielo. Julia de Burgos #X’tabai #inktober #october #dryerase #illustration #poemas #photooftheday #blackandwhite #inktoberday15 #juliadeburgos https://www.instagram.com/p/B3vqhX8FTOc/?igshid=gmybwo15c7q3

[boricuadiaspora]

Julia de Burgos, Carlos Irizarry (1981), oil on canvas.

[erik-mann]

Canción Amarga, Julia de Burgos #poesia #poema #juliadeburgos #erikmann #canciónamarga #poeta #fypシ #viralvideos #spotify #podcast https://www.instagram.com/p/CSb01EegTJ4/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lasantera]

To Julia de Burgos People now murmur that I am your enemy For they claim that in verses I reveal your essence to the world. They lie, Julia de Burgos. They lie, Julia de Burgos. The voice uplifted in my verses is not your own: it is mine, For you are garment and I essence; And the greatest abyss lies between the two. You are the cold-blooded puppet of social deceit, And I, the driving splendour of human truth. You, of courtesan hypocrisies…the honey; not I; Whose heart is revealed in my poems…all. You are like your world, selfish; not I; Who dares all to be what I truly am. You are merely the implacable, elegant lady; Not I; I am life, I am strength, I am woman. You belong to your husband, to your master; not I; I belong to no one, or to everyone, because to all, everyone, In wholesome feeling and thought, I give myself. You curl your locks and paint yourself, not I; I am curled by the wind; brightened by the sun. You are homebound, resigned, submissive, Confined to the whims of men; not I; I am Rocinante galloping recklessly Wandering through the boundaries of God’s justice. You are not in command of self; everyone rules you: You are ruled by your husband, your parents, relatives, The priest, the seamstress, theatre, club, The car, jewels, the banquet, champagne, Heaven and hell and… social hearsay. But not me, I am ruled by my heart alone, My sole thought; it is “I” who rules myself. You, aristocratic blossom; and I, the people’s blossom. You are well provided for, but are indebted to everyone, While I, my nothingness to no one owe. You, nailed to the stagnant ancestral dividend; And I, but one digit in the social cipher. We are the encroaching, inevitable duel to the death. When the multitude uncontrolled runs, The ashes of injustices, burnt, left behind, And when with the torch of the seven virtues, The throng to the seven sins gives chase, I will be against you and against all That is unjust and inhuman. Upholding the torch… I shall be among the throng. — #juliadeburgos (at Highbridge, Bronx) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_KPEzMJDlb/?igshid=9w180gx7qm49

[lesbianalovinglife]

my favorite way to end the night . . . . . #windingdown #writing #thewritelife #timewithwifey #longday #selfcare #tuesday #poetry #wine #vino #lesbianlovinglife #juliadeburgos #cuddletime #lesbiancuddle #lesbiana #reflections #lgbtqa #lesbiansthattravel

[impermanent-art]

Portrait of Puerto Rican poet and activist Julia de Burgos by Contra and Frederico Draw. Bushwick, Brooklyn.

[amanrr-blog]

“Dejarse vencer por la vida es es peor que dejarse vencer por la muerte. Lo último es inevitable. Lo primero es voluntario. Y todo lo voluntario debe ser sano, fecundo y creado.”

-Julia de Burgos(Santiago,1941)

[marlenafitz]

SCORE! @valorycambiopr #pesopuertorriqueño. I have all denominations. I’m RICH! Can you imagine #PuertoRico having its own currency? I do and it is happening. The #ATM is in #NewYork and the money could be yours. Follow @valorycambiopr for information. #RobertoClemente #JuliaDeBurgos #Betances #cayomartinpeña #LuisaCapetillo #Celeste https://www.instagram.com/p/B2B5_fFh_EV/?igshid=124hyj5wqqncr

[lilbelop]

RÍO GRANDE DE LOÍZA ⠀⠀ ¡Río Grande de Loíza!... Alárgate en mi espíritu y deja que mi alma se pierda en tus riachuelos, para buscar la fuente que te robó de niño y en un ímpetu loco te devolvió al sendero. ⠀⠀ Enróscate en mis labios y deja que te beba, para sentirte mío por un breve momento, y esconderte del mundo, y en ti mismo esconderte, y oír voces de asombro, en la boca del viento. ⠀⠀ Apéate un instante del lomo de la tierra, y busca de mis ansias el íntimo secreto; confúndeme en el vuelo de mi ave fantasía, y déjame una rosa de agua en mis ensueños. ⠀⠀ ¡Río Grande de Loíza!.. Mi manantial, mi río, desde que alzóse al mundo el pétalo materno; contigo se bajaron desde las rudas cuestas a buscar nuevos surcos, mis pálidos anhelos; y mi niñez fue toda un poema en el río, y un río en el poema de mis primeros sueños. ⠀⠀ Llegó la adolescencia. Me sorprendió la vida prendida en lo más ancho de tu viajar eterno; y fui tuya mil veces, y en un bello romance me despertaste el alma y me besaste el cuerpo. ⠀⠀ ¿Adónde te llevaste las aguas que bañaron mis formas, en espiga del sol recién abierto? ¡Quién sabe en qué remoto país mediterráneo algún fauno en la playa me estará poseyendo! ⠀⠀ ¡Quién sabe en qué aguacero de qué tierra lejana me estaré derramando para abrir surcos nuevos; o si acaso, cansada de morder corazones, me estaré congelando en cristales de hielo! ⠀⠀ ¡Río Grande de Loíza! Azul, Moreno, Rojo. Espejo azul, caído pedazo azul del cielo; desnuda carne blanca que se te vuelve negra cada vez que la noche se te mete en el lecho; roja franja de sangre, cuando baja la lluvia a torrentes su barro te vomitan los cerros. ⠀⠀ Río hombre, pero hombre con pureza de río, porque das tu azul alma cuando das tu azul beso. Muy señor río mío. Río hombre. Único hombre que ha besado en mi alma al besar en mi cuerpo. ⠀⠀ ¡Río Grande de Loíza!... Río grande. Llanto grande. El más grande de todos nuestros llantos isleños, si no fuera más grande el que de mi se sale por los ojos del alma para mi esclavo pueblo. .............................................................. #carolinapr #vivacarolina #soydeaquipr #juliadeburgos @casa.juliadeburgos @tiratepr @discoverpuertorico (en Carolina, Puerto Rico) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw8GrbJBd-q/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1sej5pieb4fy1

[theantoniomabs]

Arte Original comisionada por @arteconscientepr ⠀ ⠀ Disponible en posters y camisas.⠀ #fridakahlo #juliadeburgos #arte #ilustracion #puertorico https://www.instagram.com/p/BteCCeVh8Gi/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19uax1xeok41x

[alturapr]

Tanama 🦋 “Se treparon mis ojos al rostro de los árboles y fueron mariposas sus vivas compañeras: así es como en los prados voy buscando las flores, y alas pido en las almas que a mi vida se acercan.” - Agua, Vida y Tierra - Julia de Burgos //ALTURA// www.alturapr.com Book Now #outdoorculture #aventura #tierra #mariposa #adventure #adventuretime #neverstopexploring #wander #wanderer #hiking #earthgallery #passionpassport #roamtheplanet #boricuaenlaluna #juliadeburgos #adventure #puertorico #alturapr https://www.instagram.com/p/BsylkhdBdw7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=64awq7a5o54u

[boricuadiaspora]

Julia de Burgos (1914-1953)

Julia de Burgos was born in Carolina, Puerto Rico and worked as a teacher before moving to New York, where she would become a journalist. She is however, most well-known for her poetry that focused on feminist and social justice themes. She was a major advocate for the empowerment of women and Afro-Latin writers. 

In her poem “Yo MIsma Fui Mi Ruta (I Was My Own Route)”, de Burgos portrays the oppression of gender roles and the expectations placed on women by a patriarchal society. At first, the protagonist is playing into these expectations, wanting to be an object of desire, but then she goes against them. She is seeing her own way, her own identity. 

I wanted to be like men wanted me to be: an attempt at life; a game of hide and seek with my being. But I was made of nows, and my feet level on the promissory earth would not accept walking backwards and went forward, forward, mocking the ashes to reach the kiss of new paths. At each advancing step on my route forward my back was ripped by the desperate flapping wings of the old guard. But the branch was unpinned forever, and at each new whiplash my look separated more and more and more from the distant familiar horizons; and my face took the expansion that came from within, the defined expression that hinted at a feeling of intimate liberation; a feeling that surged from the balance between my life and the truth of the kiss of the new paths. Already my course now set in the present, I felt myself a blossom of all the soils of the earth, of the soils without history, of the soils without a future, of the soil always soil without edges of all the men and all the epochs. And I was all in me as was life in me... I wanted to be like men wanted me to be: an attempt at life; a game of hide and seek with my being. But I was made of nows; when the heralds announced me at the regal parade of the old guard, the desire to follow men warped in me, and the homage was left waiting for me.