10 Examples of Letrilla

The letrilla It is a short poetic composition that generally has a satirical or burlesque tone and that usually deals with various topics, such as celebrations, religion or love. For example:«What are you eating, man?», by Luis de Góngora.

The letter belongs to lyric, because it expresses subjectivity, that is, the thoughts, reflections, ideas and feelings of the poetic self.

This type of poem It is characteristic of the Spanish Golden Age and was written by renowned authors such as Luis de Góngora and Francisco de Quevedo.

• See also: baroque poems

Characteristics of the letter

Some characteristics of the letter are:

• Topics. The letrillas can deal with different topics, but, generally, they refer to a subject in a satirical or burlesque way.
• Structure. The letters are composed of stanzas of hexasyllabic (six syllable) or octosyllabic (eight syllable) verses and have rhyme either assonant. In addition, they have refrains that refer to the main idea of ​​the composition, which are repeated at the end of each stanza and, in most cases, are usually at the beginning of the poem.
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• Rhetorical figures. In the letrillas, different rhetorical figures are used, such as the hyperbole, the comparison, the irony and the metaphor, in order to produce an aesthetic effect.

examples of lyrics

1. “Learn, flowers in me”, by Luis de Gongora (1561-1627)

Learn, Flowers, in me
What goes from yesterday to today,
that yesterday wonder I was,
and today I'm still not my shadow.

The dawn yesterday gave me a cradle,
the coffin night gave me;
without light it would die if not
The Moon will lend it to me:
Well, none of you
stop ending like this
Learn, Flowers, in me
What goes from yesterday to today,
that yesterday wonder I was,
and today I'm still not my shadow

Sweet consolation the carnation
it is at my short age,
because who gave me a day,
two barely gave him:
mayflies of the orchard,
I cardena, the crimson.
Learn, Flowers, in me
What goes from yesterday to today,
that yesterday wonder I was,
and today I'm still not my shadow

Flower is jasmine, yes beautiful,
not the most lively,
Well, it lasts a few more hours.
What star rays does it have?
if amber blooms, it's her
the flower that he retains in himself.
Learn, Flowers, in me
What goes from yesterday to today,
that yesterday wonder I was,
and today I'm still not my shadow

The wallflower though rude
in fragrance and in color,
more days sees than another flower,
for he sees those of an entire May:
die wonder i want
and not live wallflower.
Learn, Flowers, in me
What goes from yesterday to today,
that yesterday wonder I was,
and today I'm still not my shadow

To no greater flower
terms grants the sun
that to the sublime sunflower,
Methuselah of the flowers:
eyes are flattering
How many leaves did I see in it?
Learn, Flowers, in me
What goes from yesterday to today,
that yesterday wonder I was,
and today I'm still not my shadow

1. "The money of the sacristan", by Luis de Gongora (1561-1627)

The money of the sacristan
singing they come and singing they go.

Three lasts, if it wasn't a pair,
they were the master key
of the pomp that today shows us
a hidalgo of solar.
With plumage to fly
a son of his came out,
that devastates what he alone,
and the loquilla hijuela
Amber wants the jervilla
that denies Cordovan.
The money of the sacristan
singing they come and singing they go.

Two Trojans and two Greeks,
with her jealous stubbornness,
they arm Helena in two days
of jewels and bags;
as it is money for the blind,
and not earned by prayers,
he receives owners with gifts
and a rabicano doorman;
the greatness of him is a dwarf,
the melarchy of him, a scoundrel.
The money of the sacristan
singing they come and singing they go.

The lawyer works a real
palace, why do you know
what interest and nonsense
on stones they make a sign;
do it later hospital
a bald falconer,
to whom daughter and heart
he gave in dowry, which pleased him to be,
for the woman, executioner,
for the dowry, hawk.
The money of the sacristan
singing they come and singing they go.

With two handfuls of sun
and four dice rolls
repeat the other soldier
for Count of Tyrol;
phoenix do it, spanish,
gold necklace and beautiful feathers;
giving off these sparks
of his jewels, plus luck
turns it into a worm,
such a gallant bird.
The money of the sacristan
singing they come and singing they go.

Inheritance that fire and iron
she spoiled four relatives,
she found the fifth with her teeth
combing the bald to a leek;
he inherited by luck or mistake,
and to her gluttony he does not forgive;
capona new turkeys
while francolins bait,
and finally, at his table Eva
he is always tempting Adam.
The money of the sacristan
singing they come and singing they go.

1. “Send love in his fatigue”, by Luis de Gongora (1561-1627)

Send Love in your fatigue
let him sit and not say,
but I'm more happy
let it be said and not felt.

In the old law of Love
to so many pages he is
that the one who suffers the most and is quietest,
that will deliver better;
saddest of the lover
that, dead at enemy hands,
the worms found him
secrets in the belly
Send Love in your fatigue
let him sit and not say,
but I'm more happy
let it be said and not felt.

Very well who will blame
for a fool to whatever
that like a log suffers
and as a stone I will be silent;
Send Love what I will send,
that I think very without diminishment
free my tongue
and to his laws a fig.
Send Love in your fatigue
let him sit and not say,
but I'm more happy
let it be said and not felt.

I know that they have to take me out
in the car with a gag,
when love will take to square
criminals for speaking out;
but I plan to complain,
in feeling offended,
because the sea roars altered
when the wind wears you down.
Send Love in your fatigue
let him sit and not say,
but I'm more happy
let it be said and not felt.

I know of some young
that he is very knowledgeable
that rather cupid keeps
the one who keeps his secret;
and if the indiscreet dies
of loving bull,
she will die without confession
for not blaming his enemy.
Send Love in your fatigue
let him sit and not say,
but I'm more happy
let it be said and not felt.

1. "My Vague Hope", by Luis de Gongora (1561-1627)

My vague hope
has remained vague, oh sad!
Who saw wings of wax
how bad of my Sun trusts them!

Daring she gave herself to the wind
my vague hope, so much,
that the waves of my tears
he infamous her audacity,
well that a whole element
of tears urn is little.
What shall I say to wax so crazy,
or so winged daring?
My vague hope
has remained vague, oh sad!
Who saw wings of wax
how bad of my Sun trusts them!

As vague, it was light
to lead my hope
Damn, barely enough
sight in the fourth sphere.
Bad lost. the race
twisting, unhappy luck
embraced for my death
my generous stubbornness
My vague hope
has remained vague, oh sad!
Who saw wings of wax
how bad of my Sun trusts them!

1. “Fly, thought, and tell them”, by Luis de Gongora (1561-1627)

Fly, thought, and tell them
Into the eyes that I send you
that you are mine

Jealous the soul sends you
By diligent minister,
With registration powers
And with the malice of a spy;
Treat the airs of day,
Step on the halls at night
With such invisible wings
How much with subtle steps.
Fly, thought, and tell them
Into the eyes that I send you
that you are mine

Your flight with diligence
And silence ends
before theirs expires
The conditions of absence;
That there is no reliable resistance
Of such glassy faith,
behind a glass wall,
And emery smoothie.
Fly, thought, and tell them
Into the eyes that I send you
that you are mine

Look at his house in rubble
Of some stiff soldiers,
that forgiving their hungers
They threaten men;
Of such do not be astonished,
Because, although they twist such
criminal mustaches,
They gird civilian swords.
Fly, thought, and tell them
Into the eyes that I send you
that you are mine

For your honor and for mine,
You discard these people,
What will these Tuesdays be for you?
More fateful than the day;
Well, Argalia's spear
It's already figured out
What could more for golden
How strong is that of Achilles.
Fly, thought, and tell them
Into the eyes that I send you
that you are mine

If you let musicians enter,
Certain will be my anger,
Because they secure the eyes
And jump ears;
When they foreign complaints
Sing, round, thought,
And the voice, not the instrument
Take away your bailiffs.
Fly, thought, and tell them
Into the eyes that I send you
that you are mine

1. "Mr money is a powerful gentleman", by Francisco de Quevedo (1580-1645)

Mother, I humiliate myself to gold,
he is my lover and my beloved,
Well, out of love
continually he walks yellow.
That then doubloon or simple
he does everything I want
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

He is born in the Indies honored,
where the world accompanies you;
he comes to die in Spain
and he is in Genoa buried.
And then who brings him to the side
he is beautiful, although he is fierce,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

He is Galán and he is like gold,
he has broken color;
person of great value
as Christian as Moorish;
Well, he gives and takes away decorum
and he breaks any jurisdiction,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

They are the main parents of him,
and he is of noble descent,
because in the veins of the East
all bloods are real.
And then he is the one who does the same
to the duke and the herdsman,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

Who else does not wonder
see in the glory of him, without fee,
what is the least of your house
Doña Blanca of Castile?
But then he gives the low chair
and he makes a coward warrior,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

Their noble coats of arms
They are always so main
that without their royal shields
no double coats of arms;
and then to the same oaks
he gives greed the miner of him,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

For importing in the deals
and give such good advice
in the houses of the old
cats keep it from cats;
and, well, he breaks modesty
and he softens the harshest judge,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

And his majesty is so great,
although the duels are fed up with him,
that with having made rooms
he does not lose his authority.
Because he gives quality
the noble and the beggar,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

I never saw ungrateful ladies
to his liking and liking,
that to the faces of a doubloon
they make their cheap faces;
and, well, he bravados them
from a leather bag,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

They are worth more in any land
(see if he is very clever)
the shields of him in peace
that surround them in war.
And then he buries the poor man
and he makes the stranger his own,
Powerfull knight
is Mr. Money.

1. fragment of"Hush", by Francisco de Quevedo (1580-1645)

Holy silence professed:
I don't want, friends, to talk;
Well, we see that to be silent,
No one was processed.
It's time to have sense:
Let the others dance to the sound,
Hush.

That they bite with a good concert
To the tallest horse
Picadores, if he is alive,
Pastry chefs, if he is dead;
That with covered puff pastry
Give us a Friesian cake,
Hush.

What to look for opinions
Stir very awake
The Bártulos the Lawyers,
The Abbots their wives.
If you see them on the stands
who earn more than the man,
Hush.

(…)

Let the lawyer come to be
Rich with his beautiful woman,
More for her good looks
That for his good looks,
And that for good looks
Bring bastard beard,
Hush.

What tones to your gallants
Sing Juanilla cheating,
Because they already ask singing
Girls, like Germans;
That in tone, making gestures,
Ask without rhyme or reason,
Hush.

Woman there in the place
That a thousand cars, for joy,
She will drive four horses,
That he knows how to cast them well.
I know who sends salt
His car like ham,
Hush.

Let him ask again and again,
Pretending to be a virgin soul,
The tender palm maiden,
And his maidenhood is dated;
And let the judge approve
By the blood of a Pigeon,
Hush.

1. "With his bread he eats it", by Francisco de Quevedo (1580-1645)

That the old man who skillfully
It lights up, stains and paints,
smudge ink
To the role of her head;
That amends nature
In her madness I protect her;
Let the black raven dawn,
sleeping white dove,
With her bread he ate it.

that the old woman brought
She now wants to be distracted,
And that she wants to see herself as a girl
Without serving in this life;
That she marry persuaded
That she will conceive each year,
Not conceiving the deception
The one who takes her for a wife,
With her bread he ate it.

What a lot of conversation
which is cause for contempt,
In the woman of which he is foolish
Be of more price occasion;
that marries with blessing
The white one with the goring,
Without him coming dispensed
Kinship of Rome,
With her bread he ate it.

That in the foul-mouthed woman
(That so many fed up with gluttony)
Steal the face of the Bull
Crusade's Renown;
May she always be persigned
Of pure good woman;
That in the vices she wants to be
And in the punishments Sodom,
With her bread he ate it.

Than the tailor who skins us
Do, with great feeling,
On the nail the will
Of what he caught with her;
That owes so much to his star,
That the faults in his works
Let them be leftovers for your house
When death appears,
With her bread he ate it.

1. “First letter”, by Baltasar de Alcazar (1530-1606)

Of the lady who gives later,
Without saying "come back in the afternoon"
God save you.

from which no one gets fired,
And the one he asks at nine,
He no longer owes the ten,
Nothing he asks of her;
From which it is eaten like this,
As if there were no late,
God save you.

of which gives no hope,
Because he does not consent half
Between hope and remedy,
That each other is reached;
From whom since his upbringing
He always hated being late;
God save you.

Of the one who is at such a point,
That everything suffers,
And the one who doesn't ask offers
What he gives to whom he asks;
From whom he says to the one who is leaving
Without asking him that he is a coward
God save you.

1. Fragment of "Long live freedom", by Luis Zalles (1832-1896)

It's sweet to spend life
freer than a gazelle
like the bird that flies
Without anyone preventing it;
And like air in the desert
Yes indeed!
And long live freedom!

Like the Bedouin who fixes
His shop where he pleases,
Without anything embarrassing him,
And without thinking that it afflicts him
In any city or village,
What mush!
I settle at will,
And long live freedom!

I don't care about tomorrow
And soon I forget yesterday,
I don't need to eat
And there as soon as a jarana,
But if sorrows touch me,
They are wrong
If you think I have to cry,
And long live freedom!

Interactive test to practice

Follow with:

• types of poetry
• sonnets
• odes
• Epigram
• Idyll
• Anthem

References

• Germ Manuals. (s.f.). The art of making verses.
• Montaner, A. (2015). Dictionary of genres and lyrical modalities of Hispanic literature. DOI: 10.13140/RG.2.1.2607.5368