{"id":8678,"date":"2025-06-08T17:28:49","date_gmt":"2025-06-08T15:28:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/poesiaerestu.com\/revista\/?p=8678"},"modified":"2025-06-11T18:16:18","modified_gmt":"2025-06-11T16:16:18","slug":"a-la-tumba-de-keats","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/poesiaerestu.com\/revista\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\/","title":{"rendered":"“A LA TUMBA DE KEATS” de Jos\u00e9 Carlos Turrado de la Fuente,\u00a0del libro Eleg\u00edas"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>A LA TUMBA DE KEATS<\/h1>\n

 <\/p>\n

Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all<\/em><\/p>\n

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Humilde, en esta Italia que buscaste,<\/p>\n

buen Juan, entre lustrales matorrales,<\/p>\n

erijo en tanto puedo a ti una acr\u00f3polis<\/p>\n

con tus personas, dioses y paisajes;<\/p>\n

te frisan el jard\u00edn de Wentworth Place<\/p>\n

y monjas con aliento placentero,<\/p>\n

las urnas griegas con melancol\u00edas<\/p>\n

en su interior a modo de trofeo,<\/p>\n

el ruise\u00f1or, el sue\u00f1o, y el oto\u00f1o,<\/p>\n

y la estrella profunda de la noche,<\/p>\n

nocturna Roma de calles vac\u00edas,<\/p>\n

junto a una escalinata y sus rumores.<\/p>\n

Le pongo tilde al \u00e1tico, est\u00e1s solo,<\/p>\n

la escr\u00f3fula te esponja cada verso,<\/p>\n

fugaz has sido, pobre ni\u00f1o m\u00edo,<\/p>\n

versado en el amor rocambolesco,<\/p>\n

definitiva efigie derrotada,<\/p>\n

jam\u00e1s tan l\u00edmpida fue una pupila,<\/p>\n

si s\u00f3lo pienso en ti, en tu alma enjaulada,<\/p>\n

la m\u00eda abajo en rijo y corrompida.<\/p>\n

\u00bfC\u00f3mo puede olvidarse la marea<\/p>\n

de tan cuerdo el infante m\u00e1s logrado?,<\/p>\n

maldigo la perfidia de Inglaterra,<\/p>\n

no s\u00f3lo el derrotero de mis pagos,<\/p>\n

maldigo estas a\u00f1adas sin entra\u00f1as,<\/p>\n

sin gusto, sin justicia ni sapiencia,<\/p>\n

vulgacho inverecundo y carnicero<\/p>\n

que caga sobre plato y sobre herencia.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

John Keats de Finsbury reposa aqu\u00ed,<\/p>\n

as\u00ed lo quiera Dios, que lo haga en paz,<\/p>\n

paz que no tengo yo, que morir\u00e9<\/p>\n

no en Roma, s\u00ed en la Nada de verdad.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jos\u00e9 Carlos Turrado de la Fuente,\u00a0Eleg\u00edas<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Belleza, verdad y exilio: la eleg\u00eda como espejo<\/h2>\n

Este poema, un di\u00e1logo con la tumba de John Keats, es un canto al destierro de la belleza y la fragilidad de la existencia. El poeta se arrodilla ante el m\u00e1rmol romano y, en ese gesto, se funden dos soledades: la del joven Keats, exiliado por la enfermedad y la incomprensi\u00f3n, y la del propio autor, peregrino de la memoria, que busca en la ceniza del pasado un asidero para la esperanza.<\/p>\n

La voz se desliza entre im\u00e1genes de jardines y urnas, de monjas y paisajes, de sue\u00f1os y ruise\u00f1ores. Hay en cada verso un temblor de admiraci\u00f3n y de p\u00e9rdida, como si el poeta quisiera abrazar a Keats y, al mismo tiempo, despedirse de \u00e9l para siempre. La belleza \u2014esa \u201cverdad\u201d que Keats proclam\u00f3 en su epitafio\u2014 se convierte aqu\u00ed en una pregunta dolorosa, en una nostalgia de lo que nunca podr\u00e1 ser rescatado del todo.<\/p>\n

El poema avanza como una procesi\u00f3n de s\u00edmbolos: la acr\u00f3polis levantada en honor al poeta ingl\u00e9s, la escalinata romana, la estrella profunda de la noche. Todo es rito y ofrenda, pero tambi\u00e9n confesi\u00f3n de impotencia. El yo po\u00e9tico reconoce su propia corrupci\u00f3n, su incapacidad para alcanzar la pureza de Keats, y maldice la \u201cperfidia de Inglaterra\u201d, la injusticia de los tiempos, la vulgaridad de los herederos.<\/p>\n

El cierre es un susurro de resignaci\u00f3n y humildad: Keats reposa en Roma, pero el poeta que le canta sabe que su destino es la Nada, el olvido, el no-lugar. La eleg\u00eda se convierte as\u00ed en un espejo donde el lector se ve reflejado: todos somos, de alg\u00fan modo, exiliados de la belleza, buscadores de una verdad que apenas intuimos y que, sin embargo, nos salva por un instante del vac\u00edo.<\/p>\n

En este poema, la palabra es ceniza y llama, y la emoci\u00f3n \u2014contenida pero intensa\u2014 nos invita a recordar que la poes\u00eda, como la vida, es siempre un acto de despedida y de amor.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>

\"Peaceful<\/div><\/div>
\"Thought-provoking<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"A LA TUMBA DE KEATS   Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.   Humilde, en esta Italia que buscaste, buen Juan, entre lustrales matorrales, erijo en tanto puedo a ti una acr\u00f3polis con tus personas, dioses y paisajes; te frisan el jard\u00edn de...","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":8679,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8678","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poesia"],"yoast_head":"\n"A LA TUMBA DE KEATS" de Jos\u00e9 Carlos Turrado de la Fuente,\u00a0del libro Eleg\u00edas - Poes\u00ed\u00ada eres t\u00fa (revista)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Poes\u00eda "A LA TUMBA DE KEATS" de Jos\u00e9 Carlos Turrado de la Fuente,\u00a0del libro Eleg\u00edas, publicado en Ediciones Rilke 2025\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/poesiaerestu.com\/revista\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\/\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"admin\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"3 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\\\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\\\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"admin\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/fcb1a2122be3810bfdd0c071b4b3e9c4\"},\"headline\":\"“A LA TUMBA DE KEATS” de Jos\u00e9 Carlos Turrado de la Fuente,\u00a0del libro Eleg\u00edas\",\"datePublished\":\"2025-06-08T15:28:49+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2025-06-11T16:16:18+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\\\/\"},\"wordCount\":685,\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2025\\\/06\\\/Gemini_Generated_Image_s3ez76s3ez76s3ez.jpg\",\"articleSection\":[\"Poes\u00eda\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"copyrightYear\":\"2025\",\"copyrightHolder\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/#organization\"}},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/poesiaerestu.com\\\/revista\\\/a-la-tumba-de-keats\\\/\",\"name\":\"\\\"A LA TUMBA DE KEATS\\\" de Jos\u00e9 Carlos Turrado de la Fuente,\u00a0del libro Eleg\u00edas - 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