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6. Late Reveler. Little lamp that lights my street,/ Now that I am seeing double,/ Why is it you are hiding?/ Or is it you who blocks my way?
6. Late Reveler. Little lamp that lights my street,/ Now that I am seeing double,/ Why is it you are hiding?/ Or is it you who blocks my way?

6. Late Reveler. Little lamp that lights my street,/ Now that I am seeing double,/ Why is it you are hiding?/ Or is it you who blocks my way?

Alternate Titles
  • 100 Original Woodcuts by Posada
Artist (Mexican, 1852 - 1913)
Date1947
ClassificationsPrint
MediumColor woodcut
DimensionsImage area: 3 3/16 x 2 3/4 in. (8.1 x 7 cm) Sheet: 9 3/16 x 6 5/16 in. (23.3 x 16 cm)
Credit LineGift of Jack Lord
Object number1973.23.6
21. Poetaster. Publishing my little verses;/ To raise a monument to me after death./ How affable!/ Rather, since I am alive,/ Pay your pennies now—/ That I may pay for beans.
21. Poetaster. Publishing my little verses;/ To raise a monument to me after death./ How affable!/ Rather, since I am alive,/ Pay your pennies now—/ That I may pay for beans.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
23. Riddle. I am a fish; I, a helmet;/ I free you from a squall./ To the first, I lose my head;/ With the third, I insure myself;/ And the second fills me with loathing.
23. Riddle. I am a fish; I, a helmet;/ I free you from a squall./ To the first, I lose my head;/ With the third, I insure myself;/ And the second fills me with loathing.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
Image Not Available for 10. The Successful Writer. “How weighty am I!”/ Says the author of these verses./ “When you speak of weight,/ “I consult my cash-box.”
10. The Successful Writer. “How weighty am I!”/ Says the author of these verses./ “When you speak of weight,/ “I consult my cash-box.”
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
32. Unrequited Love. You loved me!— So you told me./ Who was it who loved first?/ When I loved, you did not— /And now that you do, I do not.
32. Unrequited Love. You loved me!— So you told me./ Who was it who loved first?/ When I loved, you did not— /And now that you do, I do not.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
45. The Hard-headed Merchant. I became rich quickly./ How? As a merchant (now you know);/ And, it wasn’t because of flattery;/ I haven’t a foolish hair on my head.
45. The Hard-headed Merchant. I became rich quickly./ How? As a merchant (now you know);/ And, it wasn’t because of flattery;/ I haven’t a foolish hair on my head.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
52. Melancholia. Her you see my soured countenance,/ No feelings are repressed./ Life is always the same;/ Those who go are soon forgotten,/ The Dead are quickly buried.
52. Melancholia. Her you see my soured countenance,/ No feelings are repressed./ Life is always the same;/ Those who go are soon forgotten,/ The Dead are quickly buried.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
90. Candidate. I am a candidate for a seat, / I hope to be President,/ Look! I’ll go through on my goatee/ And my cascading mustaches.
90. Candidate. I am a candidate for a seat, / I hope to be President,/ Look! I’ll go through on my goatee/ And my cascading mustaches.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
63. Chanticler. Don’t you wish you were a rooster/ Who has a lot of hens?/ With each her little chickens—/ And not one do you support?
63. Chanticler. Don’t you wish you were a rooster/ Who has a lot of hens?/ With each her little chickens—/ And not one do you support?
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
37. The Bohemian. He deceives, who says on seeing me,/ “Here was a prize-winning artist.”/ I was only a Bohemian,/ Without even claws to scratch myself.
37. The Bohemian. He deceives, who says on seeing me,/ “Here was a prize-winning artist.”/ I was only a Bohemian,/ Without even claws to scratch myself.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
46. Reminiscence. Who, on seeing what the present brings,/ Does not lament time gone by?/ Who is it who does not mourn/ That which time has taken away?
46. Reminiscence. Who, on seeing what the present brings,/ Does not lament time gone by?/ Who is it who does not mourn/ That which time has taken away?
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
1. The Bureaucrat. Among books and files/ I pass my life,/ And what is the result?/ Well...You see for yourself!
1. The Bureaucrat. Among books and files/ I pass my life,/ And what is the result?/ Well...You see for yourself!
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
51. On Losing a Job. I was a quack, a shyster,/ A bureaucrat, and a poet./ Now I am not worth a cent;/ I am one of those sad unemployed.
51. On Losing a Job. I was a quack, a shyster,/ A bureaucrat, and a poet./ Now I am not worth a cent;/ I am one of those sad unemployed.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947