Bernardo, rolling off the tongue like the last chord of a mandolin under a Tuscan moon, traces his paw-print back to the medieval Germanic roots bern, “bear,” and hard, “brave,” so that, in spirit, this name is a cloak of fearless fur draped over a poet’s shoulders. In Italy and Spain he has long wandered through monastery cloisters and sun-splashed piazzas alike—think Saint Bernardo of Clairvaux guiding Dante to Paradise, or libertador Bernardo O’Higgins sketching a nation’s future beneath Andean stars—yet he never loses the cordial, espresso-warm grin of a neighborhood nonno. In the United States his presence has remained steady, padding along the middle of the popularity charts for more than a century, a gentle reminder that quiet constancy can be as impressive as a bear’s roar. Bestowed on a newborn today, Bernardo feels both timeless and freshly baked, like focaccia straight from the oven: sturdy, fragrant, and impossible not to share.
Bernardo Silva - |
Bernardo de Gálvez - |
Bernardo O'Higgins - |
Bernardo Bertolucci - |
Bernardo de Monteagudo - |
Bernardo Pasquini - |
Bernardo Houssay - |
Bernardo Hernández González - |
Bernardo Kucinski - |
Bernardo Atxaga - |
Bernardo Wexler - |
Bernardo Giner de los Ríos - |
Bernardo de Irigoyen - |
Bernardo Cavallino - |
Bernardo Vasconcelos - |