Deeply admired by poets far more familiar to us, from Lorca to William
Carlos Williams, the poems of Miguel Hernandez (1910-42), written in the
midst of the savage 20th century, beam with a gentleness of heart.
Hernandez was a self-educated goatherd from the tiny Spanish town of
Orihuela who tried hard to be accepted among his older contemporaries.
Lorca wrote to the young poet in 1933, telling him to stop struggling to
get along in a 'circle of literary pigs'. After fighting on the
Republican side in the Spanish Civil War, Hernandez was imprisoned in
several of Franco's jails, where he continued to write until his death
from untreated tuberculosis on 28 March 1942: he was only 31. Miguel
Hernandez is now one of the most revered poets in the Spanish-speaking
world. From his early formalism, paying homage to Gongora and Quevedo,
to the final poems, which are passionate and bittersweet, Hernandez'
work is a dazzling reminder that force can never defeat spirit, and that
courage is its own reward. Pablo Neruda called him 'a great master of
language - a wonderful poet'.