Un libro para las damas by María del Pilar Sinués
Un libro para las damas by María del Pilar Sinués
No es la poesía tan sólo aquel rayo que ilumina la mente del que hace versos.
La poesía está en el mundo bajo diversas formas, y vive entre nosotros sin que nos apercibamos de su presencia.
La poesía en la mujer es hermana del sentimiento, es la blanca y perfumada flor que brota en el corazon: cuando el huracan del dolor ha agostado todas las demas flores del alma, la de la poesía desplega su corola más hermosa que nunca.
Las lágrimas son su rocío; la resignacion es el sol benéfico que la calienta con sus tibios resplandores.
La poesía es la compa?era inseparable de la mujer buena y la que embellece el hogar doméstico. ?Desgraciada la mujer que la desconoce, y desgraciado tambien el hombre que busca, para compa?era suya, una mujer prosaica y materialista! Si busca un alma fria, se encontrará con un alma dura; si busca un corazon destituido de ilusiones, será fácil que halle un corazon vacío y desgarrado.
Toda mujer que cuida de embellecer su casa y de hacer dichosa á su familia, tiene un alma poética.
Una madre meciendo á su hijo sobre sus rodillas, junto á un balcon entoldado de flores, está rodeada, á mis ojos, de una poesía tan bella como elocuente.
Una jóven sentada al lado de su anciano padre, leyendo con suave y dulce voz, para distraerle en las largas noches de invierno, ofrece un cuadro de tierna y sublime poesía.
No he conocido un sér más poético que una jóven, hija de un anciano militar, que se casó con un pobre empleado de pocos a?os y de ménos haberes: yo la conocí despues de casada y madre de un ni?o de algunos meses; vivia ademas con ellos su anciano padre, compartiendo la modesta y casi mísera existencia de sus hijos.
El tedio se apoderaba de mi ánimo cuando iba con mi madre á casa de alguna de sus opulentas y ociosas amigas: mi corazon, tan jóven que áun no sabía darse cuenta de sus emociones, se adormecia en el fondo de mi pecho.
Aquella monótona magnificencia; aquellos salones en los que el lujo se aglomeraba bajo mil diferentes aspectos, respirando en todos la vanidad; aquellas pesadas colgaduras de seda, que velaban el resplandor del sol; aquellos divanes, en fin, destinados á enervar en una so?olienta molicie al que los ocupase, me causaban un hastío que no podia vencer.
?Con qué afan deseaba que mi madre me concediera permiso para ir á casa de mi jóven amiga!
Margarita me atraia con una simpatía incomprensible en mi edad, pues yo no tenía aún doce a?os, y la amaba con la mayor ternura. Ella contaba apénas veintidos primaveras, y su carácter, lleno de una apacible alegría, alejaba de aquella casa á la tristeza, que no perdia la ocasion de asomar á la puerta su torva faz.
Mi amiga cuidaba de su padre, de su esposo y de su hijo: su cari?oso esmero se extendia tambien al balcon de su cuarto, que era un verdadero jardin, y á dos tórtolas que, prisioneras en una jaula de ca?as, colocada entre las macetas, se arrullaban dulcemente y se alisaban con su pico la delicada y sedosa pluma.
Siempre que iba yo á ver á Margarita la encontraba en su casa; su peque?o gabinete no tenía otros muebles que algunas sillas de enea, una mesa de graciosa hechura, sobre la cual habia siempre dos jarros de loza llenos de flores, y un armario y la cuna del ni?o, velada con cortinas de muselina blanca: junto á aquella cuna bordaba Margarita todo el tiempo que la dejaban libre sus deberes domésticos; el sueldo de su esposo era muy corto, y ella hacía el sacrificio de sus horas de reposo, entregándose á aquella ocupacion que producia algun dinero, con que contribuia al bienestar de su familia. Los que dicen que el trabajo perjudica á la salud, asientan un error: Margarita era un prodigio de belleza floreciente, de dulce y encantadora lozanía: cubria sus mejillas un sonrosado delicioso, y sus ojos brillaban con la dicha y el contento.
La ocupacion contínua es lo que conserva la tranquilidad en el espíritu de la mujer, lo que le trae una grata calma, y esa alegría igual y dulce que nace de la quietud del ánimo; el ocio es su más cruel enemigo, porque el ocio vicia su corazon, embota su entendimiento, hiela su alma y adormece todos sus buenos instintos.
Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancée!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.
Years ago, Cathy's husband threw himself into danger to save her. Then fate cut the cord-after the accident, he remembered everyone but the woman he'd once died for. On their third anniversary, he betrayed her, and that night she signed the divorce. Freed, she dusted off her hidden brilliance: miracle healer, racing legend, elite hacker, visionary designer. When his memories roared back, regret did, too. He stormed her wedding, pleading, "Cathy, please, one more chance!" But a certain trillionaire held her close and huffed, "Honey, someone's asking for trouble."
My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child. Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby. To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner. They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his. The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused. But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn.
Once Alexia was exposed as a fake heiress, her family dumped her and her husband turned his back on her. The world expected her to break-until Waylon, a mysterious tycoon, took her hand. While doubters waited for him to drop her, Alexia showed skill after shocking skill, leaving CEOs gaping. Her ex begged to come back, but she shut him down and met Waylon's gaze instead. "Darling, you can count on me." He brushed her cheek. "Sweetheart, rely on me instead." Recently, international circles reeled from three disasters: her divorce, his marriage, and their unstoppable alliance crushing foes overnight.
Dayna had worshiped her husband, only to watch him strip her late mother's estate and lavish devotion on another woman. After three miserable years, he discarded her, and she lay broken-until Kristopher, the man she once betrayed, dragged her from the wreckage. He now sat in a wheelchair, eyes like tempered steel. She offered a pact: she would mend his legs if he helped crush her ex. He scoffed, yet signed on. As their ruthless alliance caught fire, he uncovered her other lives-healer, hacker, pianist-and her numb heart stirred. But her groveling ex crawled back. "Dayna, you were my wife! How could you marry someone else? Come back!"
Joelle thought she could change Adrian's heart after three years of marriage, but she realized too late that it already belonged to another woman. "Give me a baby, and I'll set you free." The day Joelle went into labor, Adrian was traveling with his mistress on his private jet. "I don't care whom you love. My debt is paid. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." Not long after Joelle left, Adrian found himself begging on his knees. "Please come back to me."
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