“La Flor del Olvido”

“La flor del olvido” by Joaquina García Balmaseda, written around 1860 in Spain.

This moving poem of self-realization has deep economic undertones. This poem was written during a time of war. Specifically, Latin American counties were breaking away from Spain, resulting in a string of wars over the colonies. This had large economic consequences. It put a deep strain on both the Latin American countries, as well as Spain. Particularly, it deeply affected everyday citizens that had no ties to the war disproportionately. This poem was written from this perspective; broken, this poet metamorphoses into a resilient, compassionate figure.

Forgetfulness is a flower,
That lives within the soul,
Whose beneficial influence
Erases all that time inscribes
With laughter, tears, and love.

For her, the lost good
Brings neither joy nor sorrow;
She also dulls
The rough swaying of the soul
An illusion, oh! she fades away.

The soul is not always bound
To that flower, blessed gift
That invites us to enjoy the present,
Healing the wound
Of the aching heart.

Some souls chase
After the good they saw depart,
They cherish their suffering,
And in the memories of yesterday
They choose to remain and die.

Do you know what remains for the blind—
A heart that never forgets?
A life without rest,
And deep within its hidden folds,
A tear of fire.

But you cannot understand—
You, who know how to forget—
The pure, immense pleasure
That makes the soul tremble
As that tear begins to fall!

Not all peace is worth
What forgetfulness offers;
That mysterious sigh
Which from a trembling heart
Casts out the buried memory.

Is it to leave this world?
Or enter the world of feeling?
To return to the past,
And enjoy its pain,
And with its joy, suffer!

It is the measure of time,
Endured with courageous spirit!
It is the received impression
That stretches out a life entire—
Seeking death in it!

But what am I saying? There is no pleasure
Where pain takes root!
Let not the tears fall,
Even if, warmed by them,
The soul shudders with pleasure.

Forget! Fresh and full
The flower of oblivion rises,
Proudly offering
The balm that flows from its chalice
To the sorrowful heart.

And if the soul, by sheltering it,
Makes itself worthy to attain it...
It is worth embracing.
Though shame may come in reaching it,
And shame in deserving it!

Seek the blessed flower
That lives within the soul,
Whose beneficial influence
Erases all that time inscribes
With laughter, tears, and love.

Do you know what the blind may find—
The heart that never forgets?
A life without rest,
And deep within its lost depths,
A tear of fire!