[Lyric] Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz’s “In Reply to a Gentlemean from peru Who Sent Her Clay Vessels While Suggesting She Would Better Be a Man” (Dr. Wigginton)

In Reply to a Gentlemean from peru, Who Sent Her Clay
Vessels While Suggesting She Would Better Be a Man

     Kind Sir, while wishing to reply,
my Muses all have taken leave,
and none, even for charity,
will aid me not I wish to speak;
     and though we know these Sisters nine
good mothers are of wit and jest,
not one, once having heard your verse,
will dare to jest at my behest,
     The God Apollo listens, rapt,
and races on, so high aloft
that those who guide his Chariot
must raise their voices to a shout.
     To hear your lines, fleet Pegasus
his lusty breathing will retain,
that no one fear his thunderous neigh
as your verses are declaimed.
     Checking, against nature’s order,
altering crystalline watercourse,
Helicon stays its gurgling water,
Agannipe, her murmuring source:
     for, having heard your murmuring,
the Nine Daughters all concede,
beside your verses they are wanting,
unfit to study at your feet.
     Apollo sets aside the wand
that he employs to mark the beat,
because, on seeing you, he knows
he cannot justly take the lead.
     And thus, acknowledge it I must,
I cannot scribe the verses owed
unless, perhaps, compassionate,
keen inspiration you bestow,
     Be my Apollo, and behold
(as your light illumines me)
how my lyre will then be heard
the length and breadth of land and sea.
     Though humble, oh, how powerful
my invocation’s consequence,
I find new valor in my breast,
new spirit given utterance!
     Ignited with unfamiliar fervor,
my pen bursting into flame,
while giving due to famed Apollo
I honor Navarrete’s name.
     Travelling where non has trod,
expression rises to new heights,
and, reveling in new invention,
finds in itself supreme delight.
     Stammering with such abundance
my clumsy tongue is tied with pain:
much is seen, but little spoken,
some is known, but none explained.
     You will think that I make mock;
no, nothing further from the truth,
to prophesy, my guiding spirit
is lacking but a fine hair’s breadth.
     But if I am so little able
to offer you sufficient praise,
to form the kind of compliment
that only your apt pen may phrase,
     what serve me then to undertake it?
to venture it, what good will serve?
if mine be pens that write in water,
recording lessons unobserved.
     That they themselves elucidate,
I now leave your eulogies:
as none to their measure correspond,
none can match them in degree,
     and I turn to giving thanks
for you fair gifts, most subtly made;
Art lifts a toast to appetite
in lovely Vessels of fragrant clay.
     Earthenware, so exquisite
that Chile properly is proud,
though it is not gold or silver
that gives your gift its wide renown
     but, rather. From such lowly matter
forms emerge that put to shame
the brimming Goblets made of gold
from which Gods their nectar drained.
     Kiss, I beg, the hands that made them,
though judging by the Vessel’s charm
-such grace can surely leave no doubt-
yours were the hands that gave them form.
     As for the counsel that you offer,
I promise you, I will attend
with all my strength, although I judge
no strength on earth can en-Tarquin:
     for here we have no Salmacis,
whose crystal water, so they tell,
to nurture masculinity
possesses powers unexcelled.
     I have no knowledge of these things,
except that I came to this place
so that, if true that I am female,
none substantiate that state.
     I know, too, that they were wont
to call wife, or woman, in the Latin
uxor, only those who wed,
though wife or woman might be virgin.
     So in my case, it is not seemly
that I be viewed as feminine,
as I will never be a woman
who may as woman serve a man.
     I know only that my body,
not to either state inclined,
is neuter or abstract, guardian
of only what my Soul consigns.
     Let us renounce this argument,
let others, if they will, debate;
Some matters better left unknown
no reason can illuminate.
     Generous gentleman from Peru,
proclaiming such unhappiness,
did you leave Lima any art,
given the art you brought to us?
     You must know that law of Athens
by which Aristides was expelled:
it seems that, even if for good,
it is forbidden to excel.
     He was expelled for being good,
and other famous as well;
because to tower over all
is truly unforgiveable.
     He who always leads his peers
will by necessity invite
malicious envy, as his fame
will rob all others of the light.
     To the degree that one is chosen
as the target for acclaim,
to that same measure, envy trails
in close pursuit, with perfect aim.
     Now you are banished from Peru
and welcomed in my Native Land,
we see the Heavens grant to us
the blessing that Peru declined.
     But it is well that such great talent
live in many different zones,
for those who are with greatness born
should live not for themselves alone.