Hoy es mi dĆa de espaƱol--tengo tarea, la clase de literatura hispanola y coro espaƱol. Este "post" estĆ” dedicado a Xolo, quien comparta la nacionalidad con esta gran escritora.
Hombres necios que acusƔis
a la mujer, sin razĆ³n,
sin ver que sois la ocasiĆ³n
de lo mismo que culpƔis;
si con ansia sin igual
solicitƔis su desdƩn,
por quƩ querƩis que obren bien
si las incitƔis al mal?
CombatĆs su resistencia
y luego, con gravedad,
decĆs que fue liviandad
lo que hizo la diligencia.
Parecer quiere el denuedo
de vuestro parecer loco,
al niƱo que pone el coco
y luego le tiene miedo.
QuerĆ©is, con presunciĆ³n necia,
hallar a la que buscƔis
para prentendida, Thais,
y en la posesiĆ³n, Lucrecia.
¿QuĆ© humor puede ser mĆ”s raro
que el que, falto de consejo,
Ʃl mismo empaƱa el espejo
y siente que no estƩ claro?
Con el favor y el desdƩn
tenĆ©is condiciĆ³n igual,
quejƔndoos, si os tratan mal,
burlƔndoos, si os quieren bien.
OpiniĆ³n, ninguna gana,
pues la que mƔs se recata,
si no os admite, es ingrata,
y si os admite, es liviana.
Siempre tan necios andƔis
que, con desigual nivel,
a una culpƔis por cruel
y a otra por fƔcil culpƔis.
¿Pues como ha de estar templada
la que vuestro amor pretende?,
¿si la que es ingrata ofende,
y la que es fƔcil enfada?
Mas, entre el enfado y la pena
que vuestro gusto refiere,
bien haya la que no os quiere
y quejaos en hora buena.
Dan vuestras amantes penas
a sus libertades alas,
y despuƩs de hacerlas malas
las querƩis hallar muy buenas.
¿CuĆ”l mayor culpa ha tenido
en una pasiĆ³n errada:
la que cae de rogada,
o el que ruega de caĆdo?
¿O cuĆ”l es de mĆ”s culpar,
aunque cualquiera mal haga;
la que peca por la paga
o el que paga por pecar?
¿Pues, para quĆ© os espantĆ”is
de la culpa que tenƩis?
Queredlas cual las hacƩis
o hacedlas cual las buscƔis.
Dejad de solicitar,
y despuĆ©s, con mĆ”s razĆ³n,
acusarĆ©is la aficiĆ³n
de la que os fuere a rogar.
Bien con muchas armas fundo
que lidia vuestra arrogancia,
pues en promesa e instancia
juntƔis diablo, carne y mundo.
Sor Juana InƩs de la Cruz
I'm not fond of doing this, but here's an attempt at translating Sor Juana's beautiful words (not my own translation). A lot of it's beauty is lost, but I didn't want to leave out my English readers.
Silly, you men-so very adept
at wrongly faulting womankind,
not seeing you're alone to blame
for faults you plant in woman's mind.
After you've won by urgent plea
the right to tarnish her good name,
you still expect her to behave--
you, that coaxed her into shame.
You batter her resistance down
and then, all righteousness, proclaim
that feminine frivolity,
not your persistence, is to blame.
When it comes to bravely posturing,
your witlessness must take the prize:
you're the child that makes a bogeyman,
and then recoils in fear and cries.
Presumptuous beyond belief,
you'd have the woman you pursue
be Thais when you're courting her,
Lucretia once she falls to you.
For plain default of common sense,
could any action be so queer
as oneself to cloud the mirror,
then complain that it's not clear?
Whether you're favored or disdained,
nothing can leave you satisfied.
You whimper if you're turned away,
you sneer if you've been gratified.
With you, no woman can hope to score;
whichever way, she's bound to lose;
spurning you, she's ungrateful--
succumbing, you call her lewd.
Your folly is always the same:
you apply a single rule
to the one you accuse of looseness
and the one you brand as cruel.
What happy mean could there be
for the woman who catches your eye,
if, unresponsive, she offends,
yet whose complaisance you decry?
Still, whether it's torment or anger--
and both ways you've yourselves to blame--
God bless the woman who won't have you,
no matter how loud you complain.
It's your persistent entreaties
that change her from timid to bold.
Having made her thereby naughty,
you would have her good as gold.
So where does the greater guilt lie
for a passion that should not be:
with the man who pleads out of baseness
or the woman debased by his plea?
Or which is more to be blamed--
though both will have cause for chagrin:
the woman who sins for money
or the man who pays money to sin?
So why are you men all so stunned
at the thought you're all guilty alike?
Either like them for what you've made them
or make of them what you can like.
If you'd give up pursuing them,
you'd discover, without a doubt,
you've a stronger case to make
against those who seek you out.
I well know what powerful arms
you wield in pressing for evil:
your arrogance is allied
with the world, the flesh, and the devil!