I lived from 1823-1864.
I was from Brazil, and am in the Americas category.
From the university of Coimbra, in Portugal, he returned ill 1845 to his native province, well-equipped with legal lore, but the literary tendency which was strong within him led him to try his fortune as an author at Rio de Janeiro. Here he wrote for the newspaper press, ventured to appear as a dramatist, and in 1846 established his reputation by a volume of poems Primeiros Cantos which appealed to the national feelings of his Brazilian readers, were In 1848 he followed up his success by Segundos Cantos e sextilhas de Frei Antao, in which, as the title indicates, he puts a number of the pieces in the mouth of a simple old Dominican friar; and in the following year, in fulfilment of the duties of his new post as professor of Brazilian history in the Imperial College of Pedro II. at Rio de Janeiro, he published an edition of Berredo’s Annaes historicos do Maranhao and added a sketch of the migrations of the Indian tribes.
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A third volume of poems, which appeared with the title of Ultimos Cantos in 1851, was practically the poet’s farewell to the service of the muse, for he spent the next eight years engaged under government patronage in studying the state of public instruction in the north and the educational institutions of Europe. On his return to Brazil in 1860 he was appointed a member of an expedition for the exploration of the province of Cearfl, was forced in 1862 by the state of his health to try the effects of another visit to Europe, and died in September 1864, the vessel that was carrying him being wrecked off his native shores.
While in Germany he published at Leipzig a complete collection of his lyrical poems, which went through several editions, the four first cantos of an epic poem called Os Tymbiras (1857) and a Diccionario da lingua Tupy (1858).
My poetry
Minha terra tem palmeiras,
Onde canta o Sabiá;
29 lines, 3 comments
My homeland has many palm-trees
and the thrush-song fills its air;
28 lines, 2 comments
I
Enfim te vejo! — enfim posso,
163 lines
I
No meio das tabas de amenos verdores,
474 lines, 1 comment
Quanto é grato em terra estranha
Sob um céu menos querido,
33 lines
Seus olhos tão negros, tão belos, tão puros,
De vivo luzir,
50 lines
I
O céu era azul, tão meigo e tão brando,
304 lines
Pensas tu, bela Anarda, que os poetas
Vivem d’ar, de perfumes, d'ambrosia?
15 lines
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