Rubén Darío published the Sonatina in Prosas profanas y otros poemas (1896), the book that fixed modernismo as the new music of the Spanish language. The poem barely tells a story: a princess is sad in a palace of gold, surrounded by peacocks, jesters and guards, and sighs for something she cannot name. All its force is in how it sounds.
It is written in alexandrines — fourteen-syllable lines split down the middle — that Darío plays like an instrument: the impossible geography (Golconda, Ormuz, the lotuses of the North), the parade of diamonds and pearls, names worth more for their gleam than their sense. It is poetry heard before it is understood, and that was modernismo's discovery: giving the language back the pleasure of sound.
Under the luxury there is only one thing: the longing to get out. The princess wants to be a swallow, a butterfly, to lose herself in the wind; her palace is a cage of marble. At the end, the fairy godmother promises a knight "who has conquered Death", coming to wake her with a kiss — a fairy-tale ending that leaves open whether it frees her or only changes her master. Darío leaves it unresolved, and that is exactly where the poem lives.
The verse is kept in Spanish. Translating it in passing would replace the work with a paraphrase of it.