O you who sleep so deep you cannot wake!
Every night in mourning I come upon your pupils,
Miraculous in life, miraculous in death,
And in life and death eternally open.
Beneath a remnant of shade or silk lace of moon,
I drink their calm as I would a lagoon.
For depth, for silence, for goodness, for peacefulness.
Each one seeming a bed or a tomb.
Delmira Agustini, a Latin American poet, was born October 24th, 1886 in Montevideo, Uruguay. Her poetry was considered traditional in form, and provocative in subject matter.
When she was only 16 years old, she brought a book of poems to a prominent editor and told him he would publish her work. The editor laughed and sent her on her way. Shortly, the book was published and she became locally and nationally famous.
Before the age of 26, Agustini had published 2 more books, and numerous poems in journals and magazines. She befriended famous poets such as Ruben Dario, and continued correspondence while living in her parents home.
In August of 1913, she married Enrique Joy Reyes, a stormy and temper filled marriage. Before long, she filed for divorce, though she continued assignations with him.
On July 6th, 1914, during a bitter argument, Joy Reyes shot Agustini and then turned the gun on himself. She was 27 years old.
Agustini wrote images of spiritual and erotic yearnings, considered far too advanced for a woman during those times. Since her death, many have sought to connect the topics of her poetry, to her untimely death.
Only recently has her poetry become respected, even admired, since it was written in spite of the limits on women during her years in Uruguay.