Selections from the poem sequence “Sor Juana”

SOR JUANA (original en inglés)

II.
They say she beat herself so hard
she had to be stopped.
The Archbishop wanted a penitent,
not a corpse.
Blue birds circled around her.

I think she missed them,
those poems, those words.
I think they still came to her
spread-eagled, fierce.
I think she talked to herself,
conjured imaginary tribunals,
set everything on fire.

But that was at night.
Mornings she got up,
washed her face,
said her prayers.

Selecciones de la secuencia de poemas “Sor Juana”

SOR JUANA (traducción del inglés)

II.
Dicen que se flagelaba tanto
que tuvieron que pararla.
El Arzobispo quería una penitente,
no un cadáver.
Aves azules revoloteaban a su alrededor.

Creo que extrañaba
aquellos poemas, aquellas palabras.
Creo que aún le llegaban
con alas desplegadas, feroces.
Creo que hablaba sola,
invocaba tribunales imaginarios,
quemaba todo.

Pero eso era de noche.
De mañana se levantaba,
se lavaba la cara,
recitaba sus oraciones.

IV.
Of Sor Juana my mother would say
la quebraron
they broke her.
In Spanish the subject’s
conspicuously absent,
more frightening for being
implied.

Of Sor Juana my mother would say
la quebraron
the words rolling from her tongue
gently, meticulously,
like two silver bullets
she is afraid to drop.

Of Sor Juana my mother would say
la quebraron
and that would be that.

IV.
De Sor Juana mi madre diría
la quebraron.
En castellano el sujeto
llamativamente ausente,
más aterrador al ser
implícito.

De Sor Juana mi madre diría
la quebraron
las palabras rodando de su boca
con delicadeza, meticulosamente,
como dos balas plateadas
que teme dejar caer.

De Sor Juana mi madre diría
la quebraron
y con eso todo.

VI.
What if she was Penelope,
weaving and unweaving?
What if, at the end of the day,
after washing and nursing
her stricken sisters,
they still came to her,
those villancicos, sonnets,
and conceits?
What if, to quiet her mind,
she copied them
at night, tied them in tiny bundles,
burned them at dawn.

But if she was Penelope,
who was her Odysseus?
Perhaps she didn’t know
whom to expect,
nor why He tarried so.

VI.
¿Y si era Penélope,
tejiendo y destejiendo?
¿Y si al cabo del día,
después de lavar y cuidar
a sus hermanas aquejadas,
todavía le llegaban,
aquellos villancicos, sonetos,
y conceptos?
¿Y si para calmarse,
los copiaba
de noche, los ataba en paquetitos,
los quemaba al amanecer?

¿Pero si era Penélope,
quién era su Odiseo?
Quizá no sabía
a quién esperar,
ni por qué demoraba tanto.