Juana Inés de la Cruz / She expresses her loving respect

She expresses her loving respect, explaining what she means when she says Her Ladyship the Vicereine, Marquise de la Laguna, belongs to her.

by Juana Inés de la Cruz

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz / Expresa su amoroso respeto

My divine Lysis
pardon me if I dare
then to address you thus,
since to be called yours exceeds my merit

and to this I cannot presume. 
To call you mine I would be placed
at the mercy of your sovereign darting rays
if in my boldness I have overreached, and dared.

It is an error of the tongue
when that which is called imperial
and mastered, and of the dominion
appear to be the slave’s possessions.

“My king” declares the vassal,
“My prison” claims the prisoner, 
and the most humble slave
without the slightest offense can claim her master as her own.

Thus when I call you mine
I am not in the least pretending
that you will be adjudged to belong to me, 
but solely that I wish to be yours.

I saw you – but just stop there:
in order to say there is a fire
it is sufficient to show the cause
there is no need to affix blame on anyone for the result.

To see you so elevated
does not impede my audacity, 
for there is no deity who can remain beyond
the reach of  lofty flights of cogitation.

And yet there are those, more deserving – 
in their proximity to heaven – 
equally placed is the humble valley
as the superbly high mountain.

Finally, I must be confessed
of this sin, which is my adoration –
and if you wish to chastise me,
your chastening will be my reward.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz / She disavows the flattery visible in a portrait

She disavows the flattery visible
in a portrait of herself, which
she calls bias

by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

These lying pigments facing you,

with every charm brush can supply

set up false premises of color

to lead astray the unwary eye.

Here, against ghastly tolls of time,

bland flattery has staked a claim,

defying the power of passing years

to wipe out memory and name.

And here, in this hollow artifice —

frail blossom hanging on the wind,

vain pleading in a foolish cause,

poor shield against what fate has wrought —

all efforts fall and in the end

a body goes to dust, to shade, to nought.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

Procura desmentir los elogios que
a un retrato de la poetisa inscribió
la verdad, que llama pasión

Este, que ves, engaño colorido,

que del arte ostentando los primores,

con falsos silogismos de colores

es cauteloso engaño del sentido;

     éste, en quien la lisonja ha pretendido

excusar de los años los horrores,

y venciendo del tiempo los rigores

triunfar de la vejez y del olvido,

     es un vano artificio del cuidado,

es una flor al viento delicada,

es un resguardo inútil para el hado:

     es una necia diligencia errada,

es un afán caduco y, bien mirado,

es cadáver, es polvo, es sombra, es nada.