Sunday, January 20, 2008
Questions of who
Elusive shadow of my substance, stay,
Bewitching image that I want too well.
Illusion fair for whom in joy I die,
Fiction sweet for whom in pain I dwell.
If to the magnet of your gracious charms
My breast obedient as steel is drawn,
Why do you entice my enamored arms
If you would but escape me then in scorn?
Yet you must not think in your tyranny
That you quite succeed in vanquishing me:
For although you mock the tenuous ties
That ever will your phantom form despise,
What matter if my arms and breast you flee
If I keep you prisoner in my fantasy?
Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz