Dreams of Waking: An Anthology of Iberian Lyric Poetry, 1400-1700 9780226011479

Citation preview

dreams of waking

dreams of waking An Anthology of Iberian Lyric Poetry, 1400–1700 e d ite d a nd tr a nslated by vincent barletta, mark l. bajus, and cici mali k ********************************* e University of Chicago Press chicago and london

vincent bar le t ta is associate professor of Iberian and Latin American cultures at Stanford University. ma r k l . baju s and cici mali k are PhD candidates in the Department of Iberian and Latin American Cultures at Stanford University. e University of Chicago Press, Chicago 60637 e University of Chicago Press, Ltd., London © 2013 by e University of Chicago All rights reserved. Published 2013. Printed in the United States of America 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13

1 2 3 4 5

isbn-13: 978-0-226-01116-5 (cloth) isbn-13: 978-0-226-01133-2 (paper) isbn-13: 978-0-226-01147-9 (e- book) e University of Chicago Press gratefully acknowledges the generous support of the Division of Literatures, Cultures, and Languages and the Iberian Studies Program at Stanford University toward the publication of this book. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Dreams of waking : late medieval and early modern Iberian lyric poetry / edited and translated by Vincent Barlea, Mark L. Bajus, and Cici Malik. pages. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. isbn 978-0-226-01116-5 (cloth : alk. paper) — isbn 978-0-22601133-2 (pbk. : alk. paper) — isbn 978-0-226-01147-9 (e- book) 1. Spanish poetry—To 1500. 2. Portuguese poetry—To 1500. I. Barlea, Vincent. II. Bajus, Mark L. III. Malik, Cici. pq6181.d74 2013 861'.208—dc23 2012043134 o is paper meets the requirements of ansi / niso z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

Contents

int ro du c t io n * 1

Part I: Janus Íñigo López de Mendoza, Marqués de Santillana (1398–1458) * 22 Ausiàs March (1400?–1459) * 28 Joan Roís de Corella (1435–1497) * 43 Gil Vicente (1465?–1537) * 48 Garcia de Resende (1470–1536) * 54 Bernardim Ribeiro (1482?–1550?) * 73 Cristóbal de Castillejo (1491–1556) * 78

Part II: Venus Francisco de Sá de Miranda (1481–1558) * 97 Joan Boscà (1490?–1542) * 102 Garcilaso de la Vega (1501?–1536) * 108 António Ferreira (1528–1569) * 143 Pero de Andrade Caminha (1520?–1589) * 146 Fray Luis de León (1527–1591) * 153 Luisa Sigea de Velasco (1522?–1560) * 165 Fernando de Herrera (1534–1598) * 169 Francisco de Aldana (1537?–1578) * 172 San Juan de la Cruz (1542–1591) * 177 Santa Teresa de Ávila (1515–1582) * 183 Jorge de Montemayor (Montemor) (1520?–1561) * 193 Joan Timoneda (1518?–1583) * 199 Aljamiado poetry (second half of sixteenth century) * 204 Luís Vaz de Camões (1524?–1580) * 218

Part III: Bacchus Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547–1616) * 264 Lope Félix de Vega Carpio (1562–1635) * 270 Luis de Góngora y Argote (1561–1627) * 285 Francisco Rodrigues Lobo (1580–1622) * 295 Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres (el Rector de Vallfogona) (1580?–1623) * 302 Francisco de Quevedo (1580–1645) * 312 Tomás de Noronha (d. 1651) * 327 Sóror Violante do Céu (1602–1693) * 337 Francisco Manuel de Melo (1608–1666) * 342 Francesc Fontanella (1622–1682?) * 346 Gregório de Matos (1636–1696) * 354 Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1649?–1695) * 366 Juan del Valle y Caviedes (1645?–1697?) * 376 n ote s * 383 s e l e c te d b ib l iograp hy * 397 ind e x o f f irst l ine s * 419

Introduction

e history of early modern Iberian lyric poetry is a complex narrative that cuts across temporal, national, and linguistic boundaries. It is a story directly shaped by war and imperial politics, the active work of various sorts of readers, and above all the vicissitudes of material book culture. As much as this poetry tends to speak of what lies beyond the quotidian and even strives, perhaps quixotically, to move beyond language itself and into contact with the numinous, it is nonetheless joined together by a profound—even at times self-conscious—rootedness in the contingencies of history and human struggle. Examples of the crossings that characterize early modern Iberian lyric poetry are not difficult to find. Beyond the profound and persistent influence of Italian and classical Latin poetry, Iberian poets om Castile, the Crown of Aragon, and Portugal likewise drew liberally om autochthonous popular traditions and om each other—oen enough explicitly. As is well known, a large number of Portuguese poets (not to mention prose writers) wrote in Castilian, some even exclusively. e same is true for the Crown of Aragon, where many poets opted for Castilian over their native Catalan (Joan Boscà serves as an excellent example of this phenomenon). Examples of Castilian poets writing in Catalan or Portuguese during the early modern period are comparatively rare, although poets om Castile do equently cite, praise, and even imitate non-Castilian Iberian poets directly: the influence that Ausiàs March had over Garcilaso de la Vega’s work, and the close imitation of a Camonian sonnet by Francisco de Quevedo (“Es yelo abrasador, es fuego helado” ‘It’s burning ice, it’s ozen fire’—taken more or less directly om Camões’s “Amor é fogo que arde sem se ver” ‘Love is a fire that burns without being seen,’ which itself draws deeply om Petrarchan conceits) are examples of this. ere are also more complex examples, such as when Luís de Camões [1]

makes use of an untranslated portion of a Boscà poem (“terné presente á los ojos / por quien muero tan contento” ‘I shall hold before my eyes / the one for whom I die so happily’) within his monumental “Sóbolos rios que vão por Babilónia” ‘By the rivers that flow through Babylon.’ Here a Catalan poet’s Castilian verse finds its way into a Portuguese lyric poem that forms a central part of any serious notion of the Portuguese literary canon. Later Catalan aacks on the baroque poetics of Castilian poet Luis de Góngora, a revolutionary figure who cast a long shadow over the seventeenth century and beyond, such as the Rector de Vallfogona’s “A la expressiva senzillesa de la llengua catalana” ‘To the expressive simplicity of the Catalan language’, are also vivid examples of the subtle language (and imperial) politics that have long shaped the Iberian lyric tradition. A case similar in complexity to Camões’s use of Boscà is the sixteenth-century Castilian translation of Ausiàs March’s collected works by the Portuguese / Castilian writer Jorge de Montemayor (ca. 1520–61). Jorge de Montemayor was born and educated in Portugal (his native city was Montemor-o-Velho, near Coimbra); however, his literary output was overwhelmingly in Castilian, a language that he managed to learn with singularly impressive fluidity. Mostly famous for his pastoral romance Los siete libros de la Diana (1559?; e seven books of the Diana), Montemayor was also an accomplished poet and translator, and his most significant work of translation was undoubtedly his 1560 Castilian edition of Ausiàs March’s love poetry, which he translated directly om Catalan while serving Felipe II in Valencia. Beyond the various cases of translinguistic and transnational crossing that characterized Iberian lyric poetry om more or less the fieenth through seventeenth centuries, there are likewise many dramatic examples of its historical and human rootedness. One example, well known to Hispanists, is the brief life and enduring work of Garcilaso de la Vega (1501?–36). A Castilian soldier in the service of Holy Roman Emperor Carlos V (Carlos I as king of Spain), Garcilaso died a young man due to injuries he suffered fighting the French (who were then threatening to invade Italy) at Le Muy. As the story goes, Garcilaso and another officer were storming an isolated tower when its French defenders dropped a large rock on their ladder, smashing it and sending the two men to the ground. Garcilaso sustained serious head injuries in the fall, and he died three weeks later in a hospital in Nice. Garcilaso’s poetic career, like his somewhat absurd death, is inextricably tied to military service, war, and empire. It was at the court of Carlos V in Toledo that Garcilaso would meet and beiend Joan Boscà, who [2]

[3]

* Introduction *

was then serving as a soldier in Carlos V’s army (that Boscà worked primarily in Castilian and not in his native Catalan is also closely tied to questions of historical contingency and the cultural politics of empire); and it was through this iendship that Garcilaso would come to know and be influenced by the work of, for example, Ausiàs March. And it was soon aer this, while serving as a soldier in Naples, that Garcilaso would come so powerfully under the influence of the poetry of Francesco Petrarch and classical authors such as Virgil, Ovid, and Horace. One might even go so far as to say that the largest portion of Garcilaso’s considerable genius resides in his uncanny and highly creative powers as a reader. In his eclogues, for example, the Virgilian form takes on new life and speaks to the specific contours of Castilian literary and cultural traditions, and in his sonnets one almost forgets Petrarch altogether and reenvisions the sonnet as a poetic form born out of uniquely Iberian struggles—at once erotic and military—in Castile, Naples, Rhodes, and Tunis. e manner by which Garcilaso’s poetry became known to the world also speaks to the contingencies of history and early print book culture in the Iberian Peninsula. Upon Garcilaso’s death in 1536, manuscript copies of his poetic work were entrusted to Boscà, who began editing them for publication along with several of his own poems. Boscà himself died in Perpignan in 1542 due to an illness, and it was le to his widow, Ana Girón de Rebolledo, to finish the editorial project. She saw this through, and the result is an expansive volume titled Las obras de Boscán y algunas de Garcilaso de la Vega repartidas en quatro libros (e works of Boscà and some by Garcilaso de la Vega divided into four books), which was published in Barcelona in 1543. Meant, one imagines, to be a volume of Boscà’s poetry with Garcilaso’s work serving as something of a supplement, the 1543 edition took on a very different life in the hands of readers. Garcilaso’s poetry, contained in the fourth and final book, quickly began to overshadow Boscà’s work, and it was not long before anthologies of the former’s poetry began to appear alone in monograph form. Boscà was hardly consigned to poetic oblivion, but readers certainly have never treated him with the same reverence that is customarily reserved for Garcilaso. In a very literal way, the supplement has become the primary text. It is also worth noting that the empire that both men served has since disappeared, “undoing itself in ash,” as Garcilaso might himself put it. Another example, beer known to scholars of Portuguese literature, is Camões. Active as a poet and playwright in the court of King João III, Camões also served as a soldier in the service of Portugal’s overseas empire, famously losing his right eye around 1549 during a military expedition in Ceuta. Once back in Lisbon, Camões led a rather wild life; he

was imprisoned in the summer of 1552 for stabbing Gonçalo Borges, the man in charge of the king’s stables, in a street fight. Borges survived his injuries, and Camões was pardoned in 1553 in return for a fixed term of nominally voluntary service as a degredado (a kind of forced conscript) in Asia. Aer a short spell in a Goan prison for unpaid debts, Camões served in naval expeditions along the Malabar Coast and the Persian Gulf. It was aer his return to Goa om these expeditions that he likely began composing Os Lusíadas (e Lusiads), the epic work for which he is most famous. Aer the end of his obligatory service, Camões was offered the position of provedor-mor dos defuntos e ausentes in Macau (China), an administrative post that placed him in charge of cases of probate and disposal of the estates of deceased servants of the Portuguese empire in East Asia whose heirs were either unknown or missing. It was in Macau that Camões likely wrote the bulk of his epic work. According to tradition, Camões was returning om Macau to Goa to answer charges of embezzlement when his ship was caught by a storm and wrecked in an area near the Mekong Delta. In one of the most famous (though likely apocryphal) scenes of Portuguese literary history, Camões is said to have swum to shore with one arm while holding the manuscript of Os Lusíadas alo with the other. Rescued months later, Camões finally arrived back in Goa, where he served yet another prison term. is period, between roughly 1566 and 1567, was a time of great literary productivity for Camões; however, it is also believed to have been marked by increasing personal bierness. Whatever the case, in late 1567 he made the decision to begin his journey back to Portugal, booking passage on a ship bound for Mozambique. His idea was to get to Mozambique and om there gain passage on a ship bound for Lisbon, but once there he found that he lacked the funds needed to travel the rest of the way. Camões spent nearly two years waiting in Mozambique for a chance to return to Lisbon. Diogo do Couto (1542–1616), his iend and a prose writer of considerable importance, describes Camões’s situation at the time: In Mozambique we found that prince of the poets of his time, my old crony and iend Luís de Camões, so poor that he lived off the charity of iends; and for his journey back to Portugal we gathered for him all the clothes that he might need, and we all helped him out with food, too. And that winter in Mozambique he finished preparing his Lusíadas for printing, and he spent a lot of time working on a book that he called the Parnassus of Luís de Camões, a book of great erudition and philosophical reasoning. It was stolen om him and in Portugal I was never able to find out what became of it, much as I [4]

Camões arrived in Lisbon in 1570, during one of many outbreaks of the plague, and as Couto says, he struggled in vain to find a dependable source of income. He published Os Lusíadas in 1572 and received a small royal pension om it, but this was scarcely enough to live on. Aer having suffered for months om a prolonged illness (most likely the plague), Camões died on June 10, 1580. Just seventeen days later, Castilian troops under Felipe II invaded Portugal, and the kingdom was soon placed under Habsburg rule—a loss of sovereignty that lasted until 1640. Without even the money necessary to pay for his burial, Camões was put to rest in an unmarked grave whose location has since been lost (the body in the tomb that honors Camões in the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos in Belém is almost certainly not his). Aer Camões’s death, interest in his wrien work increased. Two Castilian translations of Os Lusíadas were published in 1580, and sixteen more editions of this work would appear by 1670 (Richard Fanshawe’s English translation was published in 1655). ere was also renewed interest in Camões’s theatrical compositions (Auto dos anfitriões [Play of the hosts]; Auto d’el Rei-Seleuco [Play of King Seleucus]; and Auto de Filodemo [Play of Philodemus]) and his lyric poetry. e first anthology of Camões’s lyric poetry, titled Rhythmas de Luís de Camões, divididas en cinco partes (Rhythms of Luís de Camões, divided into five parts), was published in 1595; however, many of the 170 poems contained in that first volume are now known to be the work of others. is was so in part because Camões’s reputation by the end of the sixteenth century was such that editors looked to publish other poems under his name in the interest of aracting buyers and also because during his life most of his lyric poetry had circulated in multipoet songbooks and miscellanies that oen failed to name the authors of specific poems.2 A second edition, titled Rimas (Rhymes), was published in 1598, and this edition added a number of poems to the Camonian lyric corpus, while cuing out some of the obviously apocryphal works of the 1595 edition. is edition contains a total of 237 poems, and the process of accretion would continue for three centuries. As Richard Zenith reports, “By the late nineteenth century, close to 700 poems were being credited to Camões, some 400 of which were sonnets.”3 Given this process, coupled with the difficult and active life on three continents that Camões led, contemporary scholars of Camões’s lyric have inherited a problem perhaps even more difficult than offering a sufficiently nuanced account of his poetic work—namely, determining [5]

* Introduction *

asked, although this was a notable the. And in Portugal this excellent poet died in absolute poverty.1

which of the poems traditionally (though perhaps less convincingly) attributed to Camões are actually his. is philological conundrum remains a Gordian knot that is unlikely to be untied or severed anytime soon. Two themes that emerge om this pair of examples (it would be a simple thing to recount several more) are central to the present anthology. In the first place, the production, reproduction, and interpretation of early modern Iberian lyric poetry emerge as interrelated processes conditioned in profound ways by various forms of uncertainty and situatedness, whether historical, political, referential, existential, hermeneutic, or philological. How, for example, are we to construct a definitive volume of Camões’s lyric poetry, moving beyond the uncertainties and instability of scholarly consensus? How do scholars even determine which poems are his and which are not in the cases where the maer is not clear? Moving into the seventeenth century, how do we tease out the definitive texts of Gregório de Matos’s poetry when what is extant stems om a vibrant manuscript tradition in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Brazil?4 How much of a hand did Ana Girón de Rebolledo, an accomplished humanist in her own right, have in the redaction and editing of her husband’s and Garcilaso de la Vega’s poetry? What is the relation of all of these poetic texts to the empires om which they emerge? What is the place of the pastoral (all those crying shepherds, all those isolated meadows) within the broader imperial context in which it more or less explodes during the sixteenth century? Also important is the highly developed and seemingly fluid cross-linguistic and cross-cultural nature of all this poetry: Castilian, Catalan, and Portuguese, not to mention other Iberian and European literary languages of the period, as well as indigenous American languages such as Tupi-Guaraní, all flow together in the pens of poets such as Boscà, Camões, Garcilaso, Sá de Miranda, and Sóror Violante do Céu (to name but a few cases), and it quickly becomes clear om even a cursory reading that works in various languages influenced the poets whose work is included in the current anthology. To help readers, especially students and nonspecialists, to appreciate and examine these various currents of readership and poetry, of influence and interaction, and to develop through praxis the study of early modern Iberian lyric poetry within an analytical amework that is itself meaningfully Iberian in scope, is the principal concern of the present anthology.

Some Practical Considerations: Verses, Stanzas, and Rhyme In the most practical terms, how do we work with early modern Iberian lyric poetry in a productively comparative way? For many readers, [6]

[7]

* Introduction *

especially students, this question raises other, perhaps even more basic questions about what it means to read and study poetry. How does one even begin? Oen even sophisticated readers of novels find themselves at somewhat of a loss when asked to talk about what is at stake or expressed in a given poem, especially when the poem in question was wrien several centuries ago in a language other than the reader’s native tongue. While there is no one universally accepted method or approach to studying poetry, there are some general rules of thumb that will likely help students and novice readers gain a richer understanding of the poems contained in the present anthology. To begin, it is important to keep in mind that each of us already brings a fairly sophisticated sense of rhythm and poetic expression to bear on any poetic text we study, whether we’ve been formally trained to work with poetry or not. Beginning university students and other nonspecialists equently make the claim that they have no real experience with poetry beyond what they were compelled to read in high school English courses; however, these readers have almost all had extensive contact with various forms of music with lyrics. ese lyrics, craed with a deep account of rhythm and sensitive to the ways in which the human voice can operate as a highly flexible musical instrument, are poetry in every sense of the term. To enjoy this music, to sing along, to listen, to dance or even tap one’s foot in time, is to be involved in the study and practice of poetry. Elvis Presley’s “You make me so lonely, baby / I get so lonely / I get so lonely, I could die” is a (not so) distant cousin of everything contained in this anthology—the solitary death cry, the bass-heavy backbeat, the bilabial pop of the b’s in baby, the insistent, almost desperate repetition of lonely, and all. And anyone with an interest in hip-hop, of course, will have taken this basic idea to a much deeper level. Beyond general considerations of rhythm and feel (all part of what Pierre Bourdieu would define as lectoral or performative habitus),5 the first step in analyzing any poem is to read it through once om start to finish, looking up any unknown words in a dictionary. Once this is done, it’s a good idea to read the poem once more to gain a more fluid and subjective feel for it, the way we might run our hands over a piece of wood smoothed out by sanding. Aer reading a poem, looking up unknown words, and rereading, it’s necessary to analyze the poem’s form. In general terms, this involves determining the number of verses and stanzas that a poem contains (key features of poetic genre), scanning the verses, and analyzing the system of rhyme. In terms of formal analysis, Castilian, Catalan, and Portuguese poetry

differs om English poetry in subtle but meaningful ways. Meter and scansion in Romance languages, for example, is not based on systems of stressed and unstressed syllables, or feet. While we can certainly speak of, for example, iambs and trochees in the poems found in the present anthology, conventional notions of meter in the Iberian Peninsula are typically based on a careful account of the number of syllables in a specific verse (or line). at is, in Castilian, Catalan, and Portuguese poetry we do not tend to isolate units of stress and rest within a verse and add them up as in English (iambic pentameter, for example, being a string of five iambs within a verse); rather, we simply count the syllables a verse contains. is means that in order to determine the form of a verse in Catalan, Portuguese, and Spanish (as in Italian and French), it is necessary to take into account the basic norms of syllabification for these languages, even if poets equently break these rules through techniques such as synalepha, hiatus, diaeresis, and synaeresis (more on this below). In Iberian poetry, the final word of a given verse plays an important role in determining the total number of syllables in that verse. In Catalan and Portuguese, the final stressed (also tonic) syllable is the last one that is counted in determining the number of syllables in a line. For example, the following verse in Catalan by Ausiàs March is considered to have ten syllables rather than eleven: “L’ull | de | l’hom | pec | no | ha | tan | fo | sca | vi | sta.” Likewise, the following verse in Portuguese by Gregório de Matos has ten poetic syllables: “A | vós | cor | ren | do | vou | bra | ços | sa | gra | dos.” In both cases, the final syllable, which is unstressed and follows the final stressed syllable, is not counted. If there were two unstressed syllables that followed the final stressed syllable, these too would not be counted, and the line would still be said to have ten poetic (as opposed to grammatical) syllables. In Castilian, one counts all the syllables in a verse, including those that come aer the final stressed syllable. is system brings with it certain complications. For example, if the final syllable of the last word in a verse is stressed (as in pa-red or co-mer), then the verse is considered agudo, and one must more or less artificially add a syllable to it. Here is an example of a sixteen-syllable verse om the Aljamiado praise poem found in this anthology: “Su | co | ra | zón | fue | sa | ca | do | de | su | cuer | po | sin | du | dar.” is verse contains only fieen total (grammatical) syllables; however, because the word dudar carries stress in its final syllable (du-dar), we must add an extra syllable to the total, and so we arrive at sixteen. In a similar way, if the antepenultimate syllable of the final word of a verse is stressed (as in brú-ju-la or A-mé-ri-ca), then the verse is considered esdrújulo and

[8]

Col | ga | das | en | la | pa | red es | ta | ban | las | tres | A | mé | ri | cas, pin | ta | das | en | dos | co | lo | res. Simply counting the syllables, we see that the first verse has seven grammatical syllables, the second one has nine, and the third one has eight. However, because the first line ends with a word whose final syllable is stressed (this can also be referred to as a masculine line), we must add a syllable, which gives us eight poetic syllables instead of seven. Similarly, because the second one ends with a word whose antepenultimate syllable is stressed (also referred to as a feminine line), we must remove a syllable om the total for that verse, giving us eight poetic syllables instead of nine. e last verse, in which the final word’s stress falls on the penultimate syllable, receives no special treatment. In the end, all of these verses have eight syllables according to the norms of Castilian versification. As already mentioned, in order to arrive at a desired number of syllables within a verse, Iberian poets oen deviate strategically om the established norms of syllabification and stress. For example, they may take two vowels that do not normally form a diphthong and pull them into one poetic syllable within a word, a phenomenon called syneresis. An example of this can be found in a verse om Ausiàs March’s “Alt e amor”: “Metge escient no té lo cas per joc.” In Catalan, the word escient would normally be pronounced as three syllables (e | sci | ent). In this case, however, the poet is aempting to fit the word into a ten-syllable line. By strategically (albeit ungrammatically) converting “e | sci | ent” into “e | scient,” March is able to achieve this. Diaeresis (also known as hiatus), on the other hand, occurs when a poet splits a diphthong in order to achieve one more syllable in the metric count. In Castilian verse, diaeresis within a word is usually easy to spot because it is oen represented with an umlaut. A good example of this comes om Luis de Góngora’s “Mientras Corinto, en lágrimas deshecho” ‘While Corinth, undone in tears’: “ven | de | Licea-un | de | cré | pi | to-in | dï | a | no.” Because of Góngora’s strategic use of diaeresis in the word indiano (normally a three-syllable word [in | dia | no], but here stretched out to four), this verse is counted as eleven rather than ten syllables. Speakers of Catalan, Portuguese, and Spanish tend to avoid pausing

[9]

* Introduction *

we must remove a syllable om the total. e following example demonstrates how this aspect of poetic syllable computation in Castilian can work:

between a word that ends with a vowel and the next one if it begins with a vowel (imagine the English phrase “the echo answers” pronounced something like “thec-wansers” and you get the idea). is is a linguistic phenomenon known as synalepha, and it finds representation in the norms of versification in all three of these languages. We have just seen how Góngora stretches out the word indiano through diaeresis to obtain more syllables, but the reader may also have noticed that words beginning and ending in vowels also get grouped together as one syllable in that verse: “ven | de | Lice-a-un | de | cré | pi | to-in | dï | a | no.” Just as syneresis links vowels within words, synalepha does so between them. Here, for example, is the opening verse, consisting of seven syllables, of Fray Luis de León’s seventh ode: “Fol | ga | ba-el | Rey | Ro | dri | go.” In essence, when the last syllable of a word ends in a vowel and the first syllable of the word that follows it begins with a vowel, these syllables are combined. In rare cases, diaeresis will be employed to separate syllables normally joined by synalepha, as in the opening line of Garcilaso de la Vega’s “Canción V”: “ap | lá | ca | se | la | i | ra.” Here Garcilaso’s goal is a seven-syllable verse, but if one were to admit the normal synalepha between la and ira, the line would have only six. So Garcilaso simply breaks the norms of versification to give his line seven total syllables. As one might well imagine, there are limits to the extent to which a poet can play with formal and generic norms without being considered unskilled. ere are other forms of synalepha that are more common in Portuguese and Catalan verse than in Castilian. Crasis, for example, is quite common in Portuguese poetry. A verse om Bernardim Ribeiro’s “Com quantas cousas perdi” ‘With all that I’ve lost’ gives us an example of this: “se me ficass’esperança.” Ribeiro here fuses the final e in ficasse and the first e of esperança into the same sound, maintaining seven syllables in the line instead of eight. Elision is a similar phenomenon in which the final vowel of a word is completely assimilated by the first vowel of the word that follows it, as in this line om Francisco de Sá de Miranda’s “Aquela fé tão clara e verdadeira” ‘at faith so clear and true’: “qu’en | cheu | de | fo | go-o | pei | to-os | o | lhos | d’á | gua.” In the first syllable, we find a case of crasis as “que en-” is contracted to “qu’en-,” while in the final stressed syllable “de a-” becomes contracted to “d’á-” through ellision. ere are also examples of synalepha, as in the fih syllable (go-o) and the seventh (to-os). (See table 1.) e number of poetic syllables in the individual verses of a given poem determines the type of verse in question and, to some extent, the genre of the poem. In the Castilian tradition, more or less codified within Juan del Encina’s Arte de trovar (Art of poetic composition) and Antonio [ 10 ]

ta bl e 1 . Scansion of early modern Iberian verse Scansion revolves around the counting of syllables. Syllables are counted up to the final stressed syllable of the poetic line in Catalan and Portuguese, and up to the very end of the line in Castilian. e final word of a verse can take any of three forms: 1. Stress falls on last syllable (e.g., par | lar). is is called a verso agudo in Castilian and Portuguese and vers agut in Catalan. When this happens within a verse written in Castilian, a syllable is added to the line. 2. Stress falls on penultimate syllable (e.g., ca | sa). is is called a verso llano in Castilian, verso grave in Portuguese, and vers pla in Catalan. 3. Stress falls on the antepenultimate syllable (e.g., A | mé | ri | ca). is is called a verso esdrújulo in Castilian, verso esdrúxulo in Portuguese, and vers esdrúixol in Catalan. When this happens within a verse wrien in Castilian, a syllable is subtracted om the line. Some added trickery: Joining vowels to reduce poetic syllable count 1. Synalepha: When the final vowel of a word is followed by a vowel initiating the next word (e.g., fo | go ar | de), then the first vowel is reduced to a semivowel and a diphthong is formed between the two vowels. As a result, the two syllables that contain these two vowels are counted as one. Synalepha is basically a default feature of Castilian, Catalan, and Portuguese poetry. 2. Crasis: is is a form of contraction that occurs when the vowel at the end of a word blends with the vowel that initiates the following word (e.g., ca | sa | a | ma | re | la > ca | sa | ma | re | la). Crasis is particularly common in Portuguese poetry. 3. Elision: is occurs when the final vowel of a word is completely assimilated by the first vowel of the word that follows it (e.g., e | la | ou | viu > e | lou | viu). Elision is also common in Portuguese poetry. 4. Syneresis: Poets will occasionally combine normally separated vowels into a diphthong in order to contract a poetic line by one syllable (e.g., lo | ar > loar). Spliing vowels to increase poetic syllable count 1. Diaeresis (also referred to as hiatus): At times, poets will split the vowels that make up a diphthong in order extend a poetic line by one syllable (e.g., con | ti | nuar > con | ti | nü | ar).

ta bl e 2 . Names of common verses Number of syllables

Castilian

Catalan

Portuguese

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

monosílabo bisílabo trisílabo tetrasílabo pentasílabo hexasílabo heptasílabo octosílabo eneasílabo decasílabo endecasílabo dodecasílabo

monosíl·lab bisíl·lab or disíl·lab trisíl·lab1 tetrasíl·lab pentasíl·lab hexasíl·lab heptasíl·lab octosíl·lab enneasíl·lab decasíl·lab hendecasíl·lab dodecasíl·lab2

monossílabo dissílabo trissílabo tetrassílabo redondilha menor hexassílabo redondilha maior octossílabo eneassílabo decassílabo hendecassílabo dodecassílabo3

1. Catalan verses of fewer than four syllables exist only in medieval poetry. 2. In Catalan, a twelve-syllable verse divided into two six-syllable hemistichs is referred to as an alexandrin. 3. In Portuguese, a twelve-syllable verse divided into two six-syllable hemistichs is referred to as an alexandrino.

de Nebrija’s Arte de la lengua castellana (Art of the Castilian language), both wrien near the end of the fieenth century, verses that have eight or fewer syllables are considered versos de arte menor, while those that have nine or more syllables are referred to as versos de arte mayor. ese same distinctions have come to be adopted in Catalan and Portuguese poetry. e specific names of some common verses, based on the number of syllables they contain, are listed in table 2. In addition to these forms, it should be noted that fourteen-syllable verses divided into two seven-syllable hemistichs are also somewhat common in Castilian and are referred to as alejandrinos (as compared to the twelve-syllable alexandrines of Catalan, French, and Portuguese). Readers should also be aware of two main types of rhyme within the poems in this anthology: full rhyme (also called perfect rhyme) and assonant rhyme. Full rhyme occurs when the vowels and consonants match up, starting with the last tonic syllable (as in confiança / mudança, hort / port, medallas / batallas, etc.). An example of full rhyme can be found in a sonnet by Luis de Góngora: Mientras por competir con tu cabello, oro bruñido al sol relumbra en vano; [ 12 ]

(-ello) (-ano)

a b

(-ano) (-ello)

b a

Assonant rhyme occurs when only the vowels are identical, also starting with the last tonic syllable (as in pena / cabeça; mira / instant; aviso / hijo). With assonantal rhyme, it is important to consider that in words whose stress falls on the antepenultimate syllable, one takes into consideration the antepenultimate and last syllables. So, for instance, the words “lo-ma” and “bó-ve-da” share an assonant rhyme. It is also important to note that if the word is a diphthong, only the strong vowels (a, e, and o) are considered. For example, words like “llu-via” and “cru-za” also share an assonant rhyme. Another way to think about rhyme, employed somewhat in Catalan and Portuguese poetry (as well as English and French), is in terms of “feminine” or “masculine” rhyme. Feminine rhyme occurs when the last tonic (i.e., rhyming) syllable falls on the penultimate or antepenultimate syllable (paroxytone or proparoxytone, respectively, in classical Greek terms), while masculine rhyme occurs when the accent falls on the final syllable (oxytone). In addition to these two main factors (consonant / assonant and feminine / masculine), rhyme can be expressed as internal (within verses or between different parts of verses) or external (between the ends of verses). e different genres of Iberian poetry are based both on poetic form (e.g., type of verses and / or stanzas) and theme (e.g., pastoral, panegyric, satire). Table 3 shows the common poetic genres that are found in the present anthology. Aer analyzing a poem’s structure and form and determining its poetic genre, it’s appropriate to engage in a stylistic analysis of the poem. is can mean highlighting the repetition of a word in a poem; the use of the same word to begin each new line; the repetition of synonyms or words that bear a kind of “family resemblance” (e.g., brumal, wintry, cold, bleak, glacial); the use of terms that are semantically opposed to one another (e.g., happiness, sadness; fire, ice); verbal tense and aspect (“I fell” meaning something quite different om “I was falling”); the rhythm and sound of words (that is, the music of the lines); the presence of alliteration or assonance; and the use of figurative language (e.g., metaphor, metonomy, synechdoche, simile). is is by no means an exhaustive list, but it can help students and other readers to gain a kind of foothold as they aempt to develop deeper, more finely grained readings of the poems contained in this anthology. In the end, it is the synthesis of all these aspects of poetic analysis—considerations of feel, rhythm, form, structure, style, [ 13 ]

* Introduction *

mientras con menosprecio en medio el llano mira tu blanca ente el lilio bello;

ta bl e 3 . Common stanzaic and verse forms in early modern Iberian lyric poetry 1. e cançó or cant is a classical Catalan form that consists of five stanzas and a final tornada that functions much like the couplet in a Shakespearean sonnet. Before the tornada there is usually a senyal, such as the “Llir entre cards” or “Plena de seny” that one finds in the cants of Ausiàs March. 2. e Castilian redondilla is a stanza made up of four octosyllabic (i.e., arte menor) verses. 3. e Portuguese redondilha is a verse form made up of either five (redondilha menor) or seven (redondilha maior) syllables. Also referred to as the medida velha. 4. e Castilian lira consists of five-verse stanzas made up of heptasyllabic and hendecasyllabic lines. e laer are found in the second and fih lines. A variation of the lira is the sexteto-lira, which consists of six-verse stanzas that alternate between seven- and eleven-syllable verses. 5. e Castilian octava real or octava rima is a stanza of eight hendecasyllabic verses. e rhyme scheme is alternating (e.g., ababab) until the final two verses, which serve as a kind of rhymed couplet (e.g., cc). e oitava rima, the verses of which consist of ten rather than eleven syllables, is also common in Portuguese verse. 6. e Castilian décima is a stanza of ten octosyllabic verses. e rhyme scheme is abbaaccddc with full rhyme. e Portuguese décima is a stanza made up of ten verses with seven or ten syllables each. It employs the same rhyme scheme as the Castilian form. 7. e Castilian romance is a popular ballad form that consists of a long series of octosyllabic lines that share an assonant rhyme in the even lines. 8. e Portuguese balada consists of three stanzas of oitava rima and a final fourverse stanza. 9. e Castilian villancico is a popular song form traditionally wrien in hexasyllables or octosyllables. It is divided into two parts: the estribillo or reain, which is made up of two or four verses; and the pie or foot, which is made up of six or seven verses, of which the last two must rhyme. roughout the poem, the estribillo (or some part of it) repeats continuously, while the pie changes om stanza to stanza. Referred to as villancete in Catalan and vilancete in Portuguese. 10. e Castilian letrilla is a villancico with bawdy or satirical content. 11. e Castilian sonnet is a poem made up of fourteen hendecasyllabic lines (decasyllabic in Catalan and Portuguese): two quatrains and two tercets. e classic rhyme scheme is abba abba cdc dcd. 12. e Castilian silva, imported om Italy and popularized during the sixteenth century, consists of an unbounded series of alternating heptasyllabic and hendecasyllabic verses loosely held together by full rhyme. 13. e zéjel is a Castilian poetic form derived om the Arabic zajal; its paern is a-reain, bbba-reain, ccca-reain, ddda-reain.

Translation and the Poetics of Reverberation Pro captu lectoris, habent sua fata libelli.6 is maxim on hermeneutics and book culture by the North Aican grammarian Terentianus, found in verse 1286 of his De syllabis (On syllables), has arguably become something of a commonplace of literary criticism since its first redaction around 300 CE. Walter Benjamin’s use of it in his essay “Unpacking My Library” is likely the example best known to modern literary scholars, although Benjamin strategically reproduces it in its more popular, truncated form: habent sua fata libelli. is shortened form of Terentianus’s maxim has a decidedly dramatic feel, suggesting that individual books have a fate that is somehow, even if tacitly, independent of readers’ ability to grasp them (in both a metaphorical and a very literal sense). ere is something strangely fatalistic about this shortened maxim. It seems to point to Greek tragedy, calling on us to imagine the Moirae equally occupied measuring out the life-threads of old copies of Magic Mountain and Leaves of Grass as they once were with those of omas Mann and Walt Whitman. ere is certainly a kind of poetry to this notion, especially for those who feel something beyond a purely utilitarian aachment to their books. We should also be aware (as Benjamin undoubtedly was), however, that it is a poetic image that becomes impossibly strained when we take into account book burnings, inquisitional censure, and other such violent expressions of lectoral “grasp.” e shortened form of Terentianus’s maxim also, and perhaps most obviously, serves to take the reader out of the equation. Benjamin plays a bit with the reader’s absence, but then essentially reworks Terentianus’s opening clause in such a way that the “grasp” of the book collector is effectively substituted for that of the reader: For [the collector], not only books but also copies of books have their fates. And in this sense, the most important fate of a copy is its encounter with him, with his own collection. I am not exaggerating when I say that to a true collector the acquisition of an old book is its rebirth. is is the childlike element which in a collector mingles with the element of old age. For children can accomplish the renewal of existence in a hundred unfailing ways. . . . To renew the old world—that is the collector’s desire when he is driven to acquire

[ 15 ]

* Introduction *

and semantico-referential meaning—that makes up our readings of a given poem.

new things, and that is why a collector of old books is closer to the wellsprings of collecting than the acquirer of luxury editions.7 is focus on collection and renewal is only part of the issue for Benjamin, of course. He himself admits, even while surrounded in his new living space by quadrangular hillocks of volumes upon volumes of Hochdeutsch and Latin and the cracked shells of the boxes in which they had been packed, that the sorts of collectors that he so lovingly (and melancholically) describes are by his day nearly extinct. e primary concern of the present anthology is early modern lyric poetry and not book collection. However, Benjamin’s account of book collecting is important for us to consider (even if in passing), given that since at least the early nineteenth century it has been book collectors more than philologists (and many, such as Pascual de Gayangos, who wore both hats) who have done the most to shape Anglophone notions of early modern Iberian literature. In fact, the main cultural and linguistic conceit that shapes our work here—that Iberian lyric in the early modern period is a multilingual and transnational project, even if modern critical approaches have tended to emphasize the divisions and “national” literatures in line with essentialist ideas about language and identity—has found an interesting articulation in the collection practices and taxonomies of various collectors om nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.8 e grasp of readers—their ability to take up books and make use of them in particular ways—is a fundamental and explicit concern for the present anthology. is concern manifests itself in various ways (including the present introductory piece of metadiscourse), but it is perhaps most evident in the translations themselves. is is so because our translations of the Castilian, Catalan, and Portuguese lyric poems collected in this volume are in the most conventional sense not translations at all; that is, they are not meant to substitute or “stand in” for the original texts as most translations are expected to do. Our translations are, in a very real sense, best understood as paratexts inviting readers to move back and forth between the original text and the English one, between a poem and others in the anthology, between at least three national literatures and languages, and between themselves and other readers, all with various “ways of taking” om early modern lyric texts.9 From the very earliest conception of this project, our translations have been meant to serve as part of a larger gloss (to refer to a medieval genre with which early modern readers were also abundantly familiar) not only on the individual poems to which they correspond but also on the broader themes of love, loss, empire, and contingency (among others) that inform early modern Iberian lyric as a whole. [ 16 ]

[ 17 ]

* Introduction *

e notion of “translation-as-gloss” that informs our anthology is perhaps more familiar to medieval and early modern readers than it is to those in the early twenty-first century, although users of Loeb Classical Library editions (and various Internet translations of premodern works) likely have a relatively grounded sense of what it can mean. Anglophone readers who still work in a serious way with Latin or Greek may be familiar with what it means to engage the original by means of a Loeb edition English translation (perhaps by someone like John Dryden or Samuel Butler and so containing constructions such as “Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare / In fields, unpunish’d, and insult my care?” that now increasingly require their own translations). is process generally involves a healthy and productive questioning of the translator’s choices, which ultimately helps one to gain a deeper understanding of the original text and the speech communities to which both ancient poet and muchless-ancient translator belong. John Pory’s contentious translation of Leo Aicanus’s Descrizione dell’Aica (Description of Aica) and Manuel Faria e Sousa’s seventeenth-century (and posthumously published) edition of Luís de Camões’s lyric poetry—we find in this second case Portuguese texts accompanied by an extensive Castilian gloss—offer very different but equally vivid examples of this.10 Beyond our desire (both conscious and habitual) to connect to early modes of translation and reading, it is perhaps Benjamin who most directly informs the approach to translation that we adopt in this anthology. In “e Task of the Translator,” Benjamin argues that “unlike a work of literature, translation does not find itself in the center of the language forest but on the outside. Facing the wooded ridge, it calls into it without entering, aiming at that single spot where the echo is able to give, in its own language, the reverberation of the work in the alien one.”11 e metaphors that Benjamin uses in this example are at once spatial and auditory: the translator “stands outside,” “faces a wooded ridge,” “aims at a single spot,” and seeks to elicit an “echo” whose reverberations will allow her or him, as Benjamin argues, to gain access to a “language of truth, fully formed.” is language of truth or “pure language” (reine Sprache) of which Benjamin speaks is accessible almost uniquely, according to him, in the affinity through difference (a kind of kinship) that exists between the original and the translation, a point that serves to place both into a relation of ontological equality (an argument that Benjamin would make even more directly in his essay “On Language as Such and on the Language of Man”). As he puts it in the same essay: “Translation . . . ultimately serves the purpose of expressing the central reciprocal relationship between languages; [it represents it] by realizing it in embryonic or intensive

form.”12 On the link between translation and pure language, Benjamin goes on to argue: In all language and linguistic creations there remains in addition to what can be conveyed something that cannot be communicated: depending on the context in which it appears, it is something that symbolizes or something symbolized. It is the former only in the finite products of language, the laer in the evolving of languages themselves. . . . While that ultimate essence, pure language, in the various tongues is tied only to linguistic elements and their changes, in linguistic creations it is weighted with a heavy, alien meaning. To relieve it of this, to turn the symbolizing into the symbolized, to regain pure language fully formed in the linguistic flux, is the tremendous and only capacity of translation.13 ere is, as more than one critic has noted, a dynamic and even transcendent vision at work here, according to which the liberating and inherently fluid “purity” that is symbolically weighed down and alien in single works of literature (or single languages) can be relieved of its burden through the estranging and ultimately regenerative process of translation.14 In translation, to put it another way, languages converge and so have the potential to express what is beyond expression and beyond history, a saying that has no “said” and speaks only truth in all its purity. e metaphors of space that Benjamin employs in his allegory of translation suggest a fixed and ordered territory, a clearly demarcated inside and outside: the translator stands outside the forest of language and calls into it, intending not the spontaneous expression om the center that is the domain of the poet but rather “language as a whole,” received as an echo om without—much as a Meccan prophet might receive the revelatory order to recite. ere is in Benjamin’s aming of it something simultaneously transcendent, metadiscursive, and deterritorializing about translation—it speaks speaking itself, a saying that discloses, a saying that opens up and closes seemingly unimaginable distances. It is, for Benjamin, a reverberation that shakes the translated text and the target language both, moving them om their established roots, shiing them on their axes. As Benjamin puts it, citing Rudolf Pannwitz: “Our translations, even the best ones, proceed om the wrong premise. ey want to turn Hindi, Greek, English into German instead of turning German into Hindi, Greek, English. . . . e basic error of the translator is that he preserves the state in which his own language happens to be instead of allowing his language to be powerfully affected by the foreign tongue.”15 ere is a [ 18 ]

In speaking or calling or listening to the other, I am not reflecting upon the other, but I am actively engaged in a noncomprehensive, nonsubsumptive relation to alterity where I focus on the particular individual in ont of me and forego the mediation of the universal [i.e., Being in Heidegger’s conception]. It is this event of being in relation with the other—variously described . . . as “expression,” “invocation,” and “prayer”—that Levinas describes first as “religion” and then, and only on the basis of an allusion to Kant, as “ethical.” is leads to a significant insight: that Levinas does not posit, a priori, a conception of ethics that then instantiates itself in certain concrete experiences; rather, the ethical (rather than “ethics”) is a name that describes, a posteriori, a certain event of being in a nonsubsumptive relation with the other.17 As Levinas would point out later (and it is here that we begin to move back to a discussion of translation itself ), this relation with the other— this greeting or invocation—does not take place in isolation but always [ 19 ]

* Introduction *

strong and suggestive Levinasian undertone to Pannwitz’s statement, as though the process of translation itself were a response to a greeting, to an interpellation that comes om beyond any aempt at or possibility of understanding or assimilation. It suggests a face-to-face relation, an irreducibly ethical connection to an open and vulnerable living presence. e question om Emmanuel Levinas’s perspective, one supposes, is whether a wrien text (translated or otherwise)—insofar as it exceeds any merely representational function—can take on this relationality at all. Levinas himself is largely uncertain on the maer of art and literature. In his early essay “Is Ontology Fundamental?” (1951), he offers the following brief line of questions on the maer: “Can things take on a face? Isn’t art an activity that gives things a face? . . . e analysis conducted thus far is not enough to give the answer. Yet, we wonder whether rhythm’s impersonal gait—fascinating, magic—is not art’s substitute for sociality, the face, and speech.”16 Later on, in Totality and Infinity, Levinas offers a distinction between ethical language, a language open to alterity, and an aestheticized or poetic mode of language that is closed off to it. is “open-closed” opposition is fundamental for Levinas’s thought on language in general, given that he understands the relation of the self with the Other as something that is inherently beyond comprehension and that does not manifest itself to us (contra Heidegger) as a concept or theme. As Levinas has it, this original or primary relation takes place in the concrete situation of speech. As Simon Critchley has argued:

in concrete seings in which other others are present. Levinas refers to these other Others (something akin to Erving Goffman’s “ratified bystanders”) as a “third party,” and his principal argument—at least with respect to speech and language—is that this speaking with the Other always takes place in the presence of the third party and is likewise always already, before anything else this speaking may seek to do or accomplish, the basis for ethics. One wonders if the activity of translation as Benjamin and Pannwitz ame it might constitute the sort of “ethical language” that Levinas describes—a language open and responsible to the infinite Other, operating beyond (and always before) the totalizing processes of representation and semantico-referential meaning, and, importantly, carried out in the presence (and for the benefit) of another Other, one who witnesses and shapes the exchange simply by her or his presence. What do these philosophical observations mean for the present anthology? We should begin by admiing that our explicit concern with the Benjaminian reverberations of translation does not mean that we are unconcerned with producing something like faithful translations of representative works of early modern Iberian lyric poetry, whether by faithful we mean “word-for-word” translations or St. Jerome’s more nebulous concept of “sense for sense.”18 Our translations are rather meant to serve as an echo by which readers might gain deeper access not only to the originals but also to the deep network of cross-linguistic and cross-cultural exchange that underlies them. at they may also lead to something beyond a merely embryonic manifestation of reine Sprache is of course also something to consider, especially in light of the explicit Neoplatonism that runs through many of the texts contained in the present anthology. In the end, our translations are not meant to be read per se but rather to facilitate a particular form or mode of lectoral captio or “grasp” with respect to the original. One might object, perhaps having just read Ezra Pound’s creative translation of a Bertran de Born sirventes (how exactly does Pound get “fool bobbin and bone” om fol batalh?) or Richard Zenith’s fluid and electric translation of a Luís de Camões sonnet, that we have not produced poetic translations at all, but rather something akin to a study aide or worker’s scaffold—an elaborate system of contextualized footnotes that merely saves our readers om having to scramble for their Catalan, Portuguese, and Spanish dictionaries. How might we answer such an objection? Beyond the more philosophical observations about reverberation and ethics discussed above, we would likely respond with Terentianus: Pro captu lectoris, etc.

[ 20 ]

part i

Janus

Quem tamen esse deum te dicam, Iane biformis?19

Ovid, Fasti 1.89

Ermegol de Beziers, “January: Janus,” Le breviare d’amour. Provençal codex, fol. 57v. France, thirteenth century. Biblioteca Real, Escorial, Madrid. Photograph: BridgemanGiraudon / Art Resource, New York.

íñigo lópez de mendoza, marqués de santillana (1398–1458)

One of the leading political and military figures in the court of Juan II of Castile (1405–54), Íñigo López de Mendoza y de la Vega, the first marquis of Santillana (most commonly referred to by scholars as simply el marqués de Santillana), was born at Carrión de los Condes, Castile, to a high-ranking noble family with close ties to the arts in Castile. His grandfather Pedro González de Mendoza and his father, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza (admiral of the Castilian fleet), were also accomplished poets. His uncle was Pero López de Ayala, a celebrated poet and historian who served as chancellor of Castile during the last quarter of the fourteenth century. e Marqués de Santillana’s father died when he was still very young, and as a result he was forced to spend part of his childhood living in his grandmother’s household, where he received a rigorous education at the hands of his grandmother and important intellectuals of the day, such as Pero Sánchez del Castillo (a member of the royal council), Alfonso Fernández de Valladolid, and his great-uncle Gutierre Álvarez de Toledo, who in 1443 would become archbishop of Toledo. As a young man, the Marqués de Santillana also spent a good deal of time in the court of the Aragonese king Alfons V el Magnànim, and it was here that he was exposed to the work of Catalan and Provençal poets (such as Ausiàs March, whom he admired greatly), the Latin and medieval Italian literary tradition (such as Virgil and Dante Alighieri), and the work of Iberian poets such as Enrique de Villena, who composed verses in Castilian and Catalan. A self-conscious admirer of Italian literary figures such as Dante, Giovanni Boccaccio, and Francesco Petrarch, as well as earlier GalicianPortuguese lyric, the Marqués de Santillana is perhaps best known for his serranillas, poems that tell of amorous encounters between knights [ 22 ]

and rustic mountain girls. During the final two decades of his life, he also composed several sonnets, which are considered to be the first wrien in Castilian. ese follow the style and form of the Italian dolce stil nuovo (which by the fieenth century was no longer so new), and they speak predominantly of unrequited love. He also composed several narrative allegorical pieces in verse called decires, of which the Triunphete de Amor (Triumph of love), El infierno de los enamorados (e lovers’ hell), the allegorical Comedieta de Ponça (Short play on Ponza), and the Bías contra Fortuna (Bias against fortune) stand out. His Proemio e carta al condestable don Pedro de Portugal (1449; Preface and leer to the constable Don Pedro of Portugal) is generally considered to be the earliest work of Castilian literary criticism.

[ 23 ]

Lejos de vos y cerca de cuidado Lejos de vos y cerca de cuidado, pobre de gozo y rico de tristeza, fallido de reposo y abastado de mortal pena, congoja y braveza, desnudo de esperanza y abrigado de inmensa cuita y visto de aspereza, la mi vida me fuye, mal mi grado, la muerte me persigue sin pereza. Ni son bastantes a satisfacer la sed ardiente de mi gran deseo Tajo al presente, ni me socorrer la enferma Guadïana, ni lo creo. Sólo Guadalquivir tiene poder de me guarir y sólo aquel deseo.

Moza tan fermosa Moza tan fermosa no vi en la ontera, como una vaquera de la Finojosa. Faciendo la vía del Calatraveño a Santa María, vencido del sueño, por tierra agosa perdí la carrera, do vi la vaquera de la Finojosa. En un verde prado de rosas y flores, guardando ganado [ 24 ]

Far om you and close to unease, poor in pleasure and rich in sadness, deprived of repose and brimming with mortal fear, grief, and bierness, stripped of hope and wrapped in immense despair, and dressed in harshness, my life flees om me against my will, death pursues me relentlessly. Neither is the Tagus20 enough to satis the burning thirst of my great desire, nor is the feeble Guadiana able to succor me, nor do I believe they are. Only the Guadalquivir has the power to heal me, and that same desire.

A Girl as Beautiful A girl as beautiful I’ve never seen in the border zone21 as a certain cowherd om Hinojosa.22 5

10

15

Making the trip om the Calatraveño Pass to Santa María, conquered by fatigue, I lost the path in the rocky terrain, and there I saw the cowherd om Hinojosa. In a green meadow filled with roses and flowers, taking care of her herd [ 25 ]

* Íñigo López de Mendoza, Marqués de Santillana *

Far From You and Close to Unease

con otros pastores, la vi tan graciosa que apenas creyera que fuese vaquera de la Finojosa. No creo las rosas de la primavera sean tan fermosas ni de tal manera, fablando sin glosa, si antes supiera de aquella vaquera de la Finojosa. No tanto mirara su mucha beldad, porque me dejara en mi libertad. Mas dije: “Donosa (por saber quién era), ¿dónde es la vaquera de la Finojosa?” Bien como riendo, dijo: “Bien vengades; que ya bien entiendo lo que demandades; non es deseosa de amar, ni lo espera, aquesa vaquera de la Finojosa.”

[ 26 ]

25

30

35

40

I don’t believe that the roses of spring are as beautiful or as graceful, to put maers directly: had I only known before of that cowherd om Hinojosa. Had I not looked so long upon her beauty, I would now be a ee man. I said to her: “Beautiful girl (to find out who she was), where is the cowherd of Hinojosa?” Practically laughing, she said: “Welcome; I already understand well what you’re asking; and she neither wants love nor hopes for it, this cowherd om Hinojosa.”

[ 27 ]

* Íñigo López de Mendoza, Marqués de Santillana *

20

with other cowherds, she seemed to me so graceful that I hardly believed that she was a cowherd om Hinojosa.

ausiàs march (1400?–1459)

Ausiàs March was born in Gandia, Valencia, to a family that had achieved noble status just a few decades earlier. His father and his uncle (Pere and Jaume, respectively) were also well-known poets. As a young man, Ausiàs was knighted and participated in the military campaigns in Sardinia and Corsica organized by the Aragonese king Alfons V. He also took part in military efforts against pirates off the coasts of North Aica and Sicily. In 1425, March seled down in Gandia to manage his family’s estates, and he also began writing poetry. By 1445, he had already achieved considerable fame as a poet. He was married twice, first to Isabel Martorell (sister of Joanot Martorell, author of Tirant lo Blanc [Tirant the White]) and then to Joana Escorna. Both of his wives died before giving birth to any legitimate heirs, but it is known that March had fathered at least five illegitimate children before his death in Valencia on March 3, 1459. Influenced by the troubadour tradition, Dante Alighieri, Francesco Petrarch, and the moralist poets of his time, Ausiàs March is commonly viewed as a poetic innovator who breaks om the troubadour tradition and stands among the very first poets om the Crown of Aragon to compose poetry in Catalan instead of Provençal. March certainly sought to distance himself om the ornamental language of the troubadours, those medieval poet-musicians who, in the words of Linda Paterson, “ ‘invented’ courtly love and who profoundly influenced the poetics and sentiment of Europe om the twelh century to the present day.”23 However, while March’s poetry does display a shi away om certain aspects of troubadour lyric, the troubadours’ influence on his poetry cannot be denied. And one must be careful when making sweeping claims about March’s linguistic break om the troubadours, as the verses of his iend and compatriot Jordi de Sant Jordi likewise engage in something of a decisive move toward Catalan over Provençal as a language of lyric expression. [ 28 ]

One aspect of Ausiàs March’s poetry that is quite similar to troubadour lyric is its form: March tends to employ a ten-syllable verse with a caesura between the fourth and fih syllables, and he most oen uses octaves organized into a rhyme scheme of abba:cddc. ese eight-line stanzas or “cobles” can also be classified as “capcaudades,” meaning that the rhyme in the last line of a stanza is oen linked to the first line of the following stanza. Instead of using the typical imagery of the troubadours, however, March’s poetic oeuvre (comprising some 128 poems and 10,000 verses) employs allegories and comparisons that can be disconcerting, revealing what many critics have pointed to as commentary on the realities of life in fieenth-century Valencia. Ausiàs March was translated into Castilian in the sixteenth century by Baltasar de Romaní, Jorge de Montemayor, F. Sánchez de Brozas (el Brocense) and Francisco de Quevedo. His works largely influenced prominent poets of the Castilian Golden Age, including Joan Boscà, Garcilaso de la Vega, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, Fernando Herrera, and Gutierre de Cetina, among others, and his poetry still remains popular within modern Catalan poetic and performative traditions.

[ 29 ]

Lleixant a part l’estil dels trobadors Lleixant a part l’estil dels trobadors qui per escalf trespassen veritat, e sostraent mon voler afectat perquè no em torb, diré el que trop en vós. Tot mon parlar als qui no us hauran vista res no valrà, car fe no hi donaran, e los veents que dins vós no veuran, en creure a mi, llur arma serà trista. L’ull de l’hom pec no ha tan fosca vista que vostre cos no jutge per gentil; no el coneix tal com lo qui és subtil: hoc la color, mas no sap de la llista. Quant és del cos menys de participar ab l’espirit, coneix bé lo grosser: vostra color i el tall pot bé saber, mas ja del gest no porà bé parlar. Tots som grossers en poder explicar ço que mereix un bell cos e honest; jóvens gentils, bons, sabents, l’han request e, famejants, los cové endurar. Lo vostre seny fa ço que altre no basta, que sap regir la molta subtilea. En fer tot bé, s’adorm en vós perea. Verge no sou perquè Déu ne volc casta. Sol per a vós bastà la bona pasta que Déu retenc per fer singulars dones. Fetes n’ha assats, molt sàvies e bones, mas compliment dona Teresa el tasta, havent en si tan gran coneiximent que res no el fall que tota no es conega. A l’hom devot sa bellesa encega; past d’entenents és son enteniment. Venicians no han lo regiment tan pacific com vostre seny regeix [ 30 ]

5

10

15

20

25

30

Leaving aside the style of the troubadours, who for the sake of ardor overstep truth, and seing apart my intense desire, of which I am not ashamed, I’ll say what I find in you. All my words, to those who have not seen you, will be worth nothing, because they will not be believed. And as for those who have seen you but not within you, in believing me, their soul will be saddened.

* Ausiàs March *

Leaving Aside the Style of the Troubadours

e eyes of a beastly man could not have such dim sight as not to judge your body noble. Yet such a man doesn’t know that body the way someone who is refined would: he knows the color, but he doesn’t see the design. Who lets his body interact less with the spirit knows well what is base: your color and cut can be well known, but of your manner such a man struggles to speak. We’re all vulgar in claiming to be able to explain what a beautiful and honest body merits. Young and wise nobles have sought it, and, famished, they lacked endurance. Your wisdom does what no other could; it knows how to command great subtlety. You do only what is good, and so sloth sleeps within you. You are no virgin because God wishes you to have descendants. Only for you was provided the good substance that God saves for extraordinary women. Many were made, very wise and good, but Dona Teresa experiences perfection, having such great knowledge that she knows all and fails at nothing. Her beauty blinds the devoted man; her intellect is food for the enlightened. Venetians have not ruled as peacefully as your sense commands [ 31 ]

subtilitats que l’entendre us nodreix e del cos bell sens colpa el moviment. Tan gran delit tot hom entenent ha e ocupat se troba en vós entendre que lo desig del cos no es pot estendre a lleig voler, ans com a mort està. Tornada Llir entre cards, lo meu poder no fa tant que pogués fer corona invisible. Meriu-la vós, car la qui és visible no es deu posar lla on miracle està.

Alt e amor, d’on gran desig s’engendra Alt e amor, d’on gran desig s’engendra, e esper, vinent per tots aquests graons, me són delits, mas dóna’m passions la por del mal, qui em fa magrir carn tendra, e port al cor sens fum continu foc, e la calor no em surt a part de fora. Socorreu-me dins los térmens d’una hora, car mos senyals demostren viure poc! Metge escient no té lo cas per joc com la calor no surt a part extrema. L’ignorant veu que lo malalt no crema e jutja’l sa puis que mostra bon toc. Lo pacient no porà dir son mal, tot aflebit, ab llengua mal diserta. Gests e color assats fan descoberta part de l’afany, que tant com lo dir val. Tornada Plena de seny, dir-vos que us am no cal, puis crec de cert que us ne teniu per certa, si bé mostrau que us està molt coberta cella perquè amor és desegual.

[ 32 ]

40

the subtleties that your understanding nourishes and the innocent movement of your beautiful body. All enlightened men experience such great delight and become so occupied in trying to understand you that bodily desire dies and can never turn into repulsive urges. Envoi Lily among thistles, my power is not enough to make for you the invisible crown that you deserve; and one that is visible should not be placed where a miracle stands.

Allure and Love, Which Engender Great Desire

5

10

15

Allure24 and Love, which engender great desire and hope om all their stages, are for me delights. But passions come om the fear of evil, which makes my tender flesh waste away, and I carry in my heart a continuous fire without smoke, and a heat that cannot escape. Help me before this hour ends, for there are many signs that I have lile time to live! A wise physician does not make light of such a case, when heat does not reach the extremities. e ignorant one sees that the patient does not burn and judges him well to the touch. e patient will not be able to say what his ailment is— much weakened, with his tongue unable to speak. His gestures and color show well enough his fervor, which is worth as much as spoken words. Envoi

20

Sensible lady, it is unnecessary to say that I love you, as I’m sure that you already know this to be true, even if your actions show that it is well hidden om you why love must be so unjust.

[ 33 ]

* Ausiàs March *

35

Així com cell que desija vianda Així com cell que desija vianda per apagar sa perillosa fam, e veu dos poms de uit en un bell ram e son desig egualment los demanda, no el complirà fins part haja elegida sí que el desig vers l’un uit se decant: així m’ha pres, dues dones amant. Mas elegesc per haver d’amor vida. Sí com la mar se plany greument e crida com dos forts vents la baten egualment, u de llevant e altra de ponent, e dura tant fins l’un vent l’ha jaquida sa força gran per lo més poderós: dos grans desigs han combatut ma pensa, mas lo voler vers u seguir dispensa. Jo el vos públic: amar dretament vós. E no cuideu que tan ignorant fos que no veés vostre avantatge gran. Mon cos no cast estava congoixant de perdre lloc que l’era delitós. Una raó fon ab ell de sa part dient que en ell se pren aquesta amor, sentint lo mal o lo delit major sí que, ell content, cascú pot ésser fart. L’enteniment a parlar no venc tard e planament desféu esta raó dient que el cos, ab sa complexió, ha tal amor com un llop o renard, que llur poder d’amar és limitat, car no és pus que apetit brutal. E, si l’amant veeu dins la fornal, no serà plant e molt menys defensat. Ell és qui venç la sensualitat. Si bé no és en ell prim moviment, [ 34 ]

5

10

15

20

25

30

Like a man who desires food to quell a life-threatening hunger, and, seeing two pieces of uit on a beautiful branch, desires them both equally, although he cannot eat until he has chosen and seled his desire upon one of the two: this is how it has been for me, in love with two women. But I now choose so that I may have life om love. As the sea loudly groans and screams when two strong winds whip her equally, one om the west and the other om the east, lasting until one has given in to the great force of the other, two great desires have embaled my thoughts; but my will flows in one direction. I say to you here: I love you as I should. And do not think I am so ignorant not to see your great advantage. My unchaste body was grieving the loss of a place that was so delightful. A strong argument on the body’s behalf is that this love takes root in it, and it is here that the worst or the greatest delight is felt; so that, if he’s happy, everyone can be sated. My understanding wasted no time in speaking, and it clearly rebued this argument, saying that the body, by its very composition, feels love as does a wolf or fox, whose ability to love is limited, since it’s nothing more than brutish appetite; for this reason, if you see lovers burning in love’s furnace, they should not be mourned, and much less defended. He is the one who defeats sensuality. Even though his is not love’s first impulse, [ 35 ]

* Ausiàs March *

Like a Man Who Desires Food

en ell està de tot lo jutjament: cert guiador és de la voluntat. Qui és aquell qui en contra d’ell reny? Que voluntat, per qui e1 fet s’executa, l’atorg senyor? E, si ab ell disputa, a la perfí se guia per son seny. Diu més avant al cos, ab gran endeny: “Vanament vols, e vans són tos desigs, car dins un punt tos delits són fastigs, romans-ne llas, tot jorn ne prens enseny. Ab tu mateix delit no pots haver: tant est grosser que amor no n’és servit. Volenterós acte de bé és dit. e d’aquest bé tu no saps lo carrer. “Si bé complit lo món pot retener, per mi és l’hom en tan sobiran bé e qui sens mi esperança el reté és foll o pec o terrible grosser.” Aitant com és l’enteniment pus clar és gran delit lo que per ell se pren. E son pillard és subtil pensament, que de fins pasts no el jaqueix endurar. Tornada Plena de seny, no pot Déu a mi dar fora de vós què descontent no camp. Tots mos desigs sobre vós los escamp; tot és dins vós lo que em fa desijar.

Colguen les gents ab alegria festes Colguen les gents ab alegria festes, lloant a Déu, entremesclant deports; places, carrers e delitables horts sien cercats, ab recont de grans gestes. E vaja jo los sepulcres cercant, interrogant ànimes infernades;

[ 36 ]

40

all judgment resides in him: he is the will’s certain guide. Who can resist him since the will, through which all deeds are executed, grants him lordship? Even to dispute him, one must inevitably be guided by his judgment.

Understanding then says to the body with great disdain: “You want vainly, and all your desires are vain, since to a point all delights are repulsive; every day you repeatedly tie yourself in knots. 45 By yourself you cannot achieve delight, and you are too crude to be able to serve love. Love is an act of the will directed toward what is good, and you don’t know the path to such a thing.

50

55

If there is absolute good in this world, it is through me that man may reach it. And he who hopes to aain it without me is insane or uncouth and terribly brutish.” And so it is that the more lucid our understanding, the greater the delight we may obtain. And the pillar of understanding is subtle thought, which provides him with fine food. Envoi

60

Sensible lady, God cannot give me anything outside of you to make me content. I cast all my desires on you; all that makes me desire is within you.

Let the People Engage in Happy Merrymaking

5

Let the people engage25 in happy merrymaking, praising God and intermixing diversion; let them fill the plazas, streets, and delectable orchards and sing of great deeds. And let me wander among the sepulchers, interrogating damned spirits;

[ 37 ]

* Ausiàs March *

35

e respondran, car no són companyades d’altre que mi en son continu plant. Cascú requer e vol a son semblant; per ço no em plau la pràtica dels vius: d’imaginar mon estat són esquius; sí com d’hom mort de mi prenen espant. Lo rei xipré, presoner d’un heretge, en mon esguard no és malauirat, car ço que vull no serà mai finat; de mon desig no em porà guarir metge. Cell Teixion qui el buitre el menja el fetge, e per tots temps brota la carn de nou e en son menjar aquell ocell mai clou: pus fort dolor d’aquesta em té lo setge, car és un verm qui romp la mia pensa, altre lo cor, qui mai cessen de rompre; e llur treball no es porà enterrompre sinó ab ço que d’haver se defensa. E si la mort no em dugués tal ofensa -fer mi absent d’una tan plasent vistano li graesc que de terra no vista lo meu cos nu, qui de plaer no pensa de perdre pus que lo imaginar los meus desigs no poder-se complir. E si em cové mon darrer jorn finir, seran donats térmens a ben amar. E si en lo cel Déu me vol allogar, part veure a Ell, per complir mon delit serà mester que em sia dellai dit que d’esta mort vos ha plagut plorar, penedint-vos com per poca mercé mor l’innocent e per amar-vos martre, cell qui lo cos de l’arma vol departre si ferm cregués que us dolríeu de se.

[ 38 ]

10

15

20

25

30

35

40

Everyone seeks and wants his own likeness, and this is why I eschew the practices of the living; they are unwilling even to imagine my condition; like a corpse I strike fear in them. e King of Cyprus, prisoner of an infidel,26 was not ill-fated compared to me, since my longing will never end; my desire cannot be cured by any doctor. Tityos, whose liver is eaten by a vulture27 and whose flesh is forever replenished, and on whom the bird never ceases to feast: stronger pain than his lays siege to me; as one worm eats away at my thoughts, another gnaws at my heart and never ceases. And their work cannot be interrupted except by that which resists my having it. And if it weren’t that death would worsen my suffering— taking me away om such a pleasant sight— I would allow it to clothe with earth my naked body, since I think not of pleasure but have lost more than one can imagine, my desires never to be fulfilled. And if my life ends in brooding, an end to good love will have been given. And if God wishes me to enter heaven and behold him, to complete my delight it will be necessary for me to be told, once I am there, that because of my death it had pleased you to weep, regreing how you showed such lile mercy to the innocent man who died as a martyr for loving you— he who would sever his body om his soul if he truly believed that it would make you hurt.

[ 39 ]

* Ausiàs March *

and they will answer, since they have no other companions but me to join in their continuous wailing.

Tornada Llir entre cards, vós sabeu e jo sé que es pot bé fer hom morir per amor; creure de mi que só en tal dolor no fareu molt que hi doneu plena fe.

[ 40 ]

Lily among thistles, we both know that a man can be made to die for love. Believe me that I am in such pain. It is not much to ask that you see this as true.

[ 41 ]

* Ausiàs March *

Envoi

joan roís de corella (1435–1497)

Born into the minor aristocracy in Gandia, Valencia, Joan Roís de Corella personally knew many of the great writers of his time. He was a relative of Ausiàs March, for instance, and he maintained a long epistolary debate with the Prince of Viana, a key intellectual and political figure of the time. Corella was a dedicated student of theology, and aer completing his training in theology (1473) he occasionally preached in the cathedral of Valencia. Despite his strong ties to the Church, most scholars believe that he was never ordained, given that he had two children with Isabel Martínez de Vera, the woman to whom he le the majority of his property in 1497. Corella began to write both artful prose and poetry when still very young, and his work seems to have been largely inspired by the work of classical authors such as Ovid and Seneca. His literary output includes both religious and profane works. In addition to writing sermons, he was known for his epistolary prose, including a defense of women titled Triümfo de les dones: Lletra que Honestat escriu a les dones (Triumph of Women: Leer that Honesty writes to women). His most famous work is the Tragèdia de Caldesa (Tragedy of Caldesa), om which the following poems are taken. Corella devoted the last years of his life to translating into Catalan the Psalms and the Vita Christi of Ludolph of Saxony. Corella’s Tragèdia de Caldesa was an extraordinarily influential text within the Crown of Aragon throughout the second half of the fieenth century. Its plot is rather simple: Caldesa invites the speaker to her house, and shortly aer his arrival, she excuses herself. e speaker, peering through a window, sees her saying good-bye to another man, and when Caldesa returns, the speaker is irate. Some critics interpret this work as an autobiographical piece, while others believe that the text is a commentary on the immorality of earthly love. [ 43 ]

Si el ferro cald reeda la mà casta Si el ferro cald reeda la mà casta, calfar l’heu vós, encara que ed sia; si tot lo foc en lo món se perdia, pendrien-ne de vós, que en sou molt basta; si en algun temps cremant la terra es gasta, no perreu vós, vivint com salamandra, ni perdreu l’us de bona haca d’Irlanda perquè us deixeu de vostra gentil casta. Casta serà la vostra, no poc bella, sens que jamés serà orfa de pares; no crec lo món vos baste a compares si gens pariu; segons vostra querella, en dubte estic que fósseu mai donzella; dot sens escreix demana la llei vostra, e tot lo món de vostre cos té mostra: fels e infels, e los de la Llei vella. En flames grans fón verd la gavarrera, é vos, sens foc, teniu calor que us crema; pendran gran llum, si s’acosten ab tema de batre en vós com en la pedrenyera; per vós se dix la dona baratera, que portau foc davall les vostres faldes, del qual tothom, puix no el tancau ab baldes, pendre’n porà com d’una gran foguera. Calda cremant, més que el foc en l’esfera, per a dir ‘no’ feu-vos serrar les dents, que no es pot dir algú dels requirents en negun temps oís de vós espera.

En lletres d’or, tendreu en lo sepulcre En lletres d’or, tendreu en lo sepulcre la mia mort per excel·lent triümfo, on clar veuran m’haveu llançat del segle, [ 44 ]

5

10

15

20

25

If the hot iron cools the chaste hand, you will heat it, even if it is cold; if all the fire in the world were lost, we would look to you, for in you there is more than enough. If someday the earth is destroyed by fire, you will not die (living instead like a salamander),28 nor will you lose the use of a good Irish pony simply because you forget your noble lineage. Your lineage will surely be beautiful, and it will never lack for fathers. I believe there aren’t enough godparents in the world should you ever have children. From what you say, I doubt that you ever were a virgin. Your law demands a dowry without interest, and the entire world is a display of your worth: believers and infidels, and those of the old Law.29 In great flames, the dog rose remained green, and you, without fire, were so hot that you burned. ey will follow a great example, those who come together to beat you as in a stoning. ey say you are a deceitful woman who carries fire under her skirt, om which everyone, since you don’t shut it with latches, takes as much as they can as om a giant bonfire. Burning heat, more than the sun; to say “no” makes you grit your teeth, and none of your suitors can say that they have ever heard you say “wait.”

In Leers of Gold, You Will Have In leers of gold, you will have on your tomb my death as an excellent trophy; here all will clearly see that you have flung me om this world, [ 45 ]

* Joan Roís de Corella *

If the Hot Iron Cools the Chaste Hand

ab honestat matant ma vida morta. E io, esculpit als vostres peus en marbre, agenollat, mostraré gest tan simple, que tots diran, ab los ulls corrents aigua: “Cruel virtut, que no la pogué vençre gest tan humil d’aquest, qui fón un fènix en vera amor, més amant que tot altre!” Estareu vós d’alabaust en figura, treta del viu; imatge de Helena, en lo quart dit tenint un esmaragde, i en l’altra mà, un ram de agnus castus, sobre lo qual planyerà una tortra; e dirà el mot, escrit sobre verds lliris: “Si per algú virtut se degués perdre, sol per a vós io la volguera rompre; però lo mal no es deu jamés concebre per esperar algun bé en puga nàixer.” “Si no poguí restaurar-vos lo viure sol per temor de honestat ofendre, no us vull negar com aprenguí de doldre: a Déu pregant guardàs del fondo carçre vostre esperit, que al meu era conforme.” Mudarà el gest la mia forma en pedra, quan llegiran aquest mot en la tomba: “Pensant per mi, haveu après de plànyer.” E no em doldrà la mia vida trista, que sol per vós la poguí bé despendre.

[ 46 ]

You will be there sculpted in alabaster, a figure taken om life; the image of Helen,31 on your ring finger you will have an emerald, and in the other hand a branch of agnus castus,32 15 above which a turtledove will cry;33 and the inscription will say, wrien above green lilies: “If for someone virtue had to be lost, then only for you would I accept this; but evil should never be conceived 20 in the hope that some goodness will be born. “If I was unable to restore to you your life, it was only because I was aaid to offend honesty, and I do not wish to deny to you how I learned om my suffering: praying to God you protect your soul om the deep prison, 25 to which my soul was accustomed.” My stone form will change its manner when they read these words on the tomb: “inking of me, you have learned to lament.” And my sad life will not pain me, 30 which only for you could have been well spent.

[ 47 ]

* Joan Roís de Corella *

killing me with honesty. And I, sculpted in marble at your feet, kneeling, will show a manner so simple that all will say, with water running om their eyes: “Cruel virtue, that such a humble manner as this should not be able to defeat you, one who was a phoenix30 10 in true love, more lover than any other!” 5

gil vicente (1465?–1537)

Lile is known about the life of Gil Vicente. He was born in Portugal near the middle of the fieenth century, perhaps in the northern city of Guimarães. He was married twice and had five children, two of whom became famous in their own right: Paula Vicente, who was widely known as a woman of great learning, and Luís Vicente, who, along with his sister, edited the first compilation of his father’s wrien works, published in 1562. Gil Vicente is thought by some scholars to have been a highly skilled goldsmith, and he is also believed to have studied in Salamanca. Vicente was active in the courts of Portuguese kings Manuel I and João III, both as a participant in poetic contests and as a playwright. A handful of his lyric compositions are contained in the Cancioneiro geral (General songbook) of Garcia de Resende (1516). During the first three decades of the sixteenth century, Vicente authored and staged more than forty pieces of short theater (autos). e first of these, “Auto da Visitação” (Visitation play), was composed in 1502 and performed by Vicente himself in the queen’s chamber to celebrate the birth of the future Portuguese king João III. e last of his plays, “Floresta de Enganos” (Forest of deceit), was wrien in 1536. A skilled poet in Portuguese and Castilian, Vicente is commonly referred to as the “father” of Portuguese theater; given that he also composed autos in Castilian as well as pieces that mix Castilian and Portuguese (see, for example, the farcical “Auto da Índia” [India play]), it might be more accurate to consider him one of the originators, along with Juan del Encina and Lucas Fernández, of a distinctly Iberian form of theater at the start of the sixteenth century. In the words of Dámaso Alonso, Vicente, “despite his light Lusitanisms, is one of the richest and most lyric poets of the Castilian language. Full of Portuguese melan-

[ 48 ]

choly, full of tenderness, of delicateness, he knows how to break out into jubilant hymns; he probably has the most intense sense of nature of any poet of his time; he finds in it treasures of rustic uncouthness; he understands the intact beauty of the popular rhythms, divinely expressed to the Divine.”34

[ 49 ]

Matou-me moura e não mouro Affonso Lopes Çapaio, christão novo que vivia em omar, fez hum rifão que andava no Cancioneiro Portuguez, ao qual rifão fizerão muitas trovas e boas. Pediu o conde de Vimioso a Gil Vicente que fizesse tambem, e elle fez esta trova.

Matou-me moura e não mouro e quem m’a lançada deu moura ela e mouro eu. A moura que deu ferida a quem nunca foi ferido, nem se vio em arruido, deve ser moura fingida, pois matou christão fingido: bem sei que morres ferido da ferida que sei eu; porém com faca se deu.

Dicen que me case yo Dicen que me case yo: no quiero marido, no. Más quiero vivir segura n’esta sierra a mi soltura, que no estar en ventura si casaré bien o no. Dicen que me case yo: no quiero marido, no. Madre, no seré casada por no ver vida cansada, o quizá mal empleada la gracia que Dios me dio. Dicen que me case yo: no quiero marido, no.

[ 50 ]

Afonso Lopes Sampaio, a New Christian35 who lived in Tomar, wrote a reain that made its way into the Portuguese cancioneiro and was the basis for many good poems. e Count of Vimioso asked Gil Vicente to write one as well, and he composed this poem. A moura killed me and not a mouro.36 e person who stabbed me is a moura and I am a mouro.37 e moura that wounded one who had never been wounded before, nor had been seen in any acas, must be a false moura, as she killed a false Christian: well do I know that you die wounded om the wound of which I know; however, it was inflicted with a knife.

ey’ve Told Me to Marry ey’ve told me to marry: I want no husband at all.

5

10

I prefer to live secure and ee in these mountains rather than to have to worry if I’ll marry well or not. ey’ve told me to marry: I want no husband at all. Mother, I will not be married just so that I may be taken care of, or perhaps have the grace that God gave me poorly employed. ey’ve told me to marry: I want no husband at all.

[ 51 ]

* Gil Vicente *

A Moura Killed Me and Not a Mouro

No será ni es nacido tal para ser mi marido; y pues que tengo sabido que la flor ya me la só, dicen que me case yo: no quiero marido, no.

[ 52 ]

20

ere can be no one, nor has one been born, who is fit to be my husband; and since it seems that I have now blossomed, they’ve told me to marry: I want no husband at all.

[ 53 ]

* Gil Vicente *

15

garcia de resende (1470–1536)

Born into a noble family that included such famous figures as André de Resende and André Falcão de Resende, Garcia de Resende received a strong humanistic education and became an experienced servant of the Portuguese monarchy. His proximity to Kings João II and João III placed him in a unique position to witness key events in Portuguese history, such as a trip to the court of the Catholic Monarchs in 1498 and accompanying ambassador Tristão da Cunha in 1514 to ask Pope Leo X for special regalia to honor Portugal’s prominence around the globe. He eventually became a knight in the prestigious Portuguese Order of Christ and built a chapel in the Convent of Espinheiro near Évora, once the pantheon of the nobility of the Alentejo (and now a luxury spa), where he was buried. Although he was a talented epistolary author, sermonist, historian, and poet of lyric as well as satire, Garcia de Resende is best known for compiling the Cancioneiro geral (General songbook), a collection to which he contributed various poetic compositions of his own. A diverse collection of poetry om the second half of the fieenth century, it was edited and published in Lisbon in 1516, during the final phase of construction of the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos (Hieronymite Monastery) in Belém. Beyond the Cancioneiro geral, Garcia de Resende’s published works include the very popular Breve memorial dos pecados e cousas que pertencem á confissam (1521; Brief memorandum on sin and things that pertain to confession), a vernacular treatise on sin and confession directed at a lay audience that provides a vivid account of notions of sin and repentance in early sixteenth-century Portugal. Also important is his “Senhoras, s’algum senhor” ‘Ladies, if some gentleman,’ which provides the earliest poetic account of the murder of Inês de Castro. Contained within the Livro das obras de Garcia de Resende (Book of the works of Garcia de Resende), published posthumously in 1554, are Crónica de D. João II (Chronicle of King [ 54 ]

João II), Entrada del rey Dom Manoel em Castella (Entry of King Manuel into Castile), Hida da infanta Dona Beatriz pera Saboya (Departure of Princess Beatriz for Savoy), Paixão segundo os quatro evãgelistas (e passion according to the four Evangelists), Sermão sobre os três Reis Magos (Sermon on the Magi), and the Miscellanea de Garcia de Resende, e variedade de historias, costumes, casos, e cousas que em seu tempo aconteceram (Miscellany of Garcia de Resende, and a collection of stories, traditions, events, and things that happened during his life).

[ 55 ]

Prólogo do Cancioneiro geral Muito alto e muito poderoso Príncipe Nosso Senhor: Porque a natural condição dos portugueses é nunca escreverem cousa que façam, sendo dinas de grande memória, muitos e mui grandes feitos de guerra, paz e virtudes, de ciência, manhas e gentilezas são esquecidos. Que, se os escritores se quisessem ocupar a verdadeiramente escrever nos feitos de Roma, Tróia e todas outras antigas crónicas e estórias, não achariam mores façanhas nem mais notáveis feitos que os que dos nossos naturais se podiam escrever, assi dos tempos passados como d’agora. Tantos reinos e senhorios, cidades, vilas, castelos, por mar e por terra tantas mil légoas, por força d’armas tomados, sendo tanta a multidão de gente dos contrairos e tão pouca a dos nossos, sostidos com tantos trabalhos, guerras, fomes e cercos, tão longe d’esperança de ser socorridos, senhoreando por força d’armas tanta parte de Áica, tendo tantas cidades, vilas e fortalezas tomadas e continuamente em guerra sem nunca cessar, e assi Guiné, sendo muitos reis grandes e grandes senhores seus vassalos e tributários e muita parte de Etiópia, Arábia, Pérsia e Índias, onde tantos reis mouros e gentios e grandes senhores são por força feitos seus súbditos e servidores, pagando-lhe grande páreas e tributos e muitos destes pelejando por nós, debaixo da bandeira de Cristo com os nossos capitães, contra os seus naturais, conquistando quatro mil légoas por mar que nenhumas armadas do Sultão nem outro nenhum grande rei nem senhor não ousam navegar com medo das nossas, perdendo seus tratos, rendas e vidas, tornando tantos reinos e senhorios com inumerável gente à fé de Jesu Cristo, recebendo água do santo bautismo, e outras notáveis cousas que se não podem em pouco escrever. Todos estes feitos e outros muitos doutras sustâncas não são divulgados como foram, se gente doutra nação os fizera. E causa isto serem tão confiados de si, que não querem confessar que nenhuns feitos são maiores que os que cada um faz e faria, se o nisso metessem. E por esta mesma causa, muito alto e poderoso Príncipe, muitas cousas de folgar e gentilezas são perdidas, sem haver delas notícia, no qual conto entra a arte de trovar que em todo tempo foi mui estimada e com ela Nosso Senhor louvado, como nos hinos e cânticos que na Santa Igreja se cantam se verá. E assi muitos emperadores, reis e pessoas de memória, pelos romances e trovas sabemos suas estórias, e nas cortes dos grandes príncipes é mui necessária na gentileza, amores, justas e momos e também para os que maus trajos e envenções fazem, por trovas são castigados e lhe dam suas emendas, como no libro ao adiante se verá. E se as que são perdidas dos [ 56 ]

Our very high and very powerful Lord Prince: Since the natural condition of the Portuguese is never to write down what they do, even things of great importance, many and very great feats of war, peace, virtue, science, manners, and nobility are forgoen. If writers were to devote themselves to writing truthfully about the feats of Rome, Troy, and all the other ancient chronicles and histories, they would not think them greater feats nor more notable deeds than those that might be wrien about us, both in times past and now. We have taken by force numerous kingdoms and lordships, cities, villages, and castles stretching out over thousands of leagues of sea and land, and the number of people that opposed us has been great while we are so few. We have been beset by many struggles, wars, famines, and sieges, and always so far om any hope of assistance; and yet we control, by force of arms, a good portion of Aica, having taken numerous cities, villages, and strongholds through relentless military action. In Guinea, many great kings and great lords are Portuguese vassals and tributaries, and also much of Ethiopia, Arabia, Persia, and the Indies, where so many Muslim and pagan kings and great lords have been made by force our subjects and servants. ese pay great tributes, and many of them even fight for us, under the banner of Christ, with our captains and against their own countrymen. We have conquered forty thousand leagues of the sea, and no armada of the Sultan38 nor that of any other great king nor lord would dare to navigate them for fear of our forces, of losing their lands, earnings, and lives. We have turned many kingdoms and fiefdoms with innumerable people in them to the faith of Jesus Christ, all of them receiving the water of holy baptism. ere are also other notable things that cannot be wrien about briefly. All these deeds and many other things are not divulged as they would be if people om another nation had carried them out. e reason for this is that we Portuguese are so sure of ourselves that we don’t feel the need to declare that no feats are greater than the ones that we’ve carried out, or would carry out if we put our minds to them. And for this same reason, very high and powerful Prince, many pleasant and exquisite things are lost without having been noticed. Among these is the art of the troubadour, which has always been held in high esteem, and with it our exalted Lord, as in the hymns and odes that are sung in the Holy Church. rough verse and song we also know the stories of so many emperors, kings, and memorable people; and in the courts of the great princes, [ 57 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

Prologue to the General Songbook

nossos passados se puderam haver e dos presentes se escreveram, creo que esses grandes poetas que por tantas partes são espalhados não tiveram tanta fama como tem. E porque, Senhor, as outras cousas são em si tão grandes que por sua grandeza e meu aco entender não devo de tocar nelas, nesta que é a somenos, por em alguma parte satisfazer ao desejo que sempre tive de fazer alguma cousa em que Vossa Alteza fosse servido e tomasse desenfadamento, determinei ajuntar algumas obras que pude haver dalguns passados e presentes e ordenar este livro, não para por elas mostrar quais foram e são, mas para os que mais sabem s’espertarem a folgar d’escrever e trazer à memória os outros grandes feitos, nos quais não são dino de meter a mão.

Senhoras, s’algum senhor Senhoras, s’algum senhor vos quiser bem ou servir, quem tomar tal servidor, eu lhe quero descobrir o galardão do amor. Por sua Mercê saber o que deve de fazer, vej’o que fez esta dama, que de si vos dará fama, s’estas trovas quereis ler. Fala D. Inês Qual será o coração tão cru e sem piadade, que lhe não cause paixão uma tão grã crueldade e morte tão sem razão? Triste de mim, inocente, que por ter muito fervente lealdade, fé, amor [ 58 ]

Ladies, If Some Gentleman

5

Ladies, if some gentleman loves or serves you well, to whoever takes such a servant I want to reveal the rewards of love. So that Your Mercy may know what must be done, see what this lady did; for you too will achieve fame if you wish to read these verses.

D. Inês Speaks 10

15

How could a heart be so cruel and pitiless that such a great act of cruelty and senseless death should not move it? Poor me, innocent. For possessing very fervent loyalty, faith, and love, [ 59 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

verse and song are very necessary for gentility, love, duels, and farces. ey are also used on those who commit errors with respect to wardrobe and speech, as it is through songs that they are punished and corrected, as will be seen in the following book. And if that which has been lost om our past could be wrien about now I think that those great poets who are scaered about in so many different places would not have the fame they do. And since, my lord, the other things are in themselves so immense that due to their greatness and my weak understanding I should not touch them, I have focused on that which is of less value (and in some measure satisfies the desire I’ve always had to do something that would serve and entertain Your Highness): I have decided to gather together the works that I could om the past and present and put together this book, not to show through them the things that were and are but so that those who know beer how to speak of such things should be awakened to the pleasure of writing and bring to memory the other great feats with which I am not worthy to involve myself.

ao príncipe, meu senhor, me mataram cruamente! A minha desaventura não contente d’acabar-me, por me dar maior tristura me foi pôr em tant’altura, para d’alto derribar-me; que, se me matara alguém, antes de ter tanto bem, em tais chamas não ardera, pai, filhos não conhecera, nem me chorara ninguém. Eu era moça, menina, per nome Dona Inês de Castro, e de tal doutrina e virtudes, qu’era Dina de meu mal ser ò’ revês. Vivia sem me lembrar que paixão podia dar nem dá-la ninguém a mim: foi-m’o príncipe olhar, por seu nojo e minha fim. Começou-m’a desejar, trabalhou por me servir; Fortuna foi ordenar dous corações conformar a uma vontade vir. Conheceu-me, conheci-o, quis-me bem e eu a ele, perdeu-me, também perdi-o; nunca até à morte foi io o bem que, triste, pus nele. Dei-lhe minha liberdade, não senti perda de fama; pus nele minha verdade quis fazer sua vontade, sendo mui emosa dama. [ 60 ]

20

25

30

35

40

45

50

My sad fate, not content just to finish me off, but to give me greater sadness, set me at such heights only to knock me down. If someone were to have killed me before I possessed so much goodness, I would not burn in such flames, I would know neither father nor my children, and no one would cry for me. I was a young woman, a girl by the name of Dona Inês de Castro, and of such principles and virtues that my fate should have been opposite of what it was. I lived with no thought to what passion could give, and neither did anyone give it to me: it was the prince who looked at me, to his sadness and my end. He began to desire me and worked to serve me; Fortune thus ordered two hearts to join and to come to form one will. He met me, I met him, he loved me well and I him; he lost me, I lost him, too. Never until death did the good that I sadly placed in him grow cold. I gave him my liberty, I was not sorry for the loss of my reputation; I placed in him my truth, I wanted to do his will, being a very beautiful lady. [ 61 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

oh Prince, my lord, they have cruelly murdered me!

Por m’estas obras pagar nunca jamais quis casar; polo qual aconselhado foi el-Rei qu’era forçado, polo seu, de me matar. Estava mui acatada, como princesa servida, em meus paços mui honrada, de tudo mui abastada, de meu senhor mui querida. Estando mui de vagar, bem fora de tal cuidar, em Coimbra, d’assessego, polos campos de Mondego cavaleiros vi somar. Como as cousas qu’hão de ser logo dão no coração, comecei entrestecer e comigo só dizer: “Estes homens d’onde irão?” E tanto que preguntei, soube logo qu’era el-Rei. Quando o vi tão apressado meu coração trespassado foi que nunca mais falei. E quando vi que descia, saí à porta da sala, devinhando o que queria; com grã choro e cortesia lhe fiz uma triste fala. Meus filhos pus derredor de mim com grão humildade; mui cortada de temor lhe disse: ‘Havei, Senhor, desta triste piedade!’ “Não possa mais a paixão que o que deveis fazer; [ 62 ]

As my payment for these acts, he never wished to marry, and for this reason the king was advised that it was necessary, to protect his kingdom, to kill me.

60

I was very respected, served as a princess, in my palaces very honored, provided for in every way, by my lord very much loved. Being completely at leisure and well beyond any cares, in Coimbra, out of such stillness, in the fields near the Mondego, I saw knights gathering.

65

As things that must be quickly reach the heart, I became sad and asked myself: “Where could these men be om?” 75 And as soon as I asked this, I knew then that it was the king. When I saw him in such a hurry, my heart was pierced and never more did I speak.

70

80

85

When I saw him geing off his horse, I went to the door of my room, guessing what he wanted. Courteously and with many tears I spoke to him very sadly. I placed my children around me with great humility; quite pierced with fear I said to him: “Lord, have pity on this sad woman!

90 “May passion not

overwhelm your duty; [ 63 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

55

metei nisso bem a mão, qu’é de aco coração sem porquê matar mulher; quanto mais a mim, que dão culpa não sendo razão, por ser mãe dos inocentes qu’ante vós estão presentes, os quais vossos netos são; “E que tem tão pouca idade que, se não forem criados de mim, só com saudade e sua grão orfandade morreram desemparados. Olhe bem quanta crueza fará nisto Vossa Alteza: e também, Senhor, olhai, pois do príncipe sois pai, não lhe deis tanta tristeza. “Lembre-vos o grand’amor que me vosso filho tem, e que sentirá grão dor morrer-lhe tal servidor, por lhe querer grande bem. Que, s’algum erro fizera, fora bem que padecera e qu’estes filhos ficaram órfãos tristes e buscaram quem deles paixão houvera; “Mas, pois eu nunca errei e sempre mereci mais, deveis, poderoso rei, não quebrantar vossa lei, que, se moiro, quebrantais. Usai mais de piedade que de rigor nem vontade, havei dó, Senhor, de mim não me deis tão triste fim, pois que nunca fiz maldade!” [ 64 ]

100 “ey are so young

105

that if they are not raised by me, they will surely die just om longing 39 and their sad orphanage. See clearly how much cruelty you will commit in this, Your Highness. And also, my lord, take notice, as you are the father of the prince: don’t give him such sadness.

110 “Remember the great love

115

that your son has for me, and that he will feel great pain if such a servant dies for loving him so well. If I commied an error, it is well that I should suffer, and that these children should be sad orphans, searching for someone to have pity on them.

120 “But as I never erred

125

and always deserved beer, you should not, powerful king, break your law, which, if I die, you will have done. Employ more piety than severity or will. Have pity on me, lord, and do not give me such a sad end, since I never commied any wrong!” [ 65 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

95

think about what you are doing, as it is the act of a coward to kill a woman without cause; this is especially true for me; they blame me without reason for being the mother of the innocent children who are present before you, who are your grandchildren.

El-rei, vendo como estava, houve de mim compaixão e viu o que não olhava: qu’eu a ele não errava nem fizera traição. E vendo quão de verdade tive amor e lealdade ó príncipe, cuja são, pôde mais a piedade que a determinação; Que, se m’ele defendera qu’a seu filho não amasse, e lh’eu não obedecera, então com razão pudera dar-m’a morte que ordenasse; mas vendo que nenhu’hora, dês que naci até’gora, nunca nisso me falou, quando se disto lembrou, foi-se pola porta fora, Com seu rosto lagrimoso, com propósito mudado, muito triste, mui cuidoso, como rei mui piedoso, mui cristão e esforçado. Um daqueles que trazia consigo na companhia, cavaleiro desalmado, detrás dele, mui irado, estas palavras dezia: “Senhor, vossa piedade é dina de reprender, pois que, sem necessidade, mudaram vossa vontade lágrimas d’uma mulher. E quereis qu’abarregado, com filhos, como casado, estê, Senhor, vosso filho? [ 66 ]

135

140

145

150

155

e king, seeing how I was, had compassion for me and saw what he hadn’t seen: that I had not erred nor commied treason against him. And seeing how much true love and loyalty I had for the prince, pity overpowered his determination. If he had ordered me not to love his son, and I disobeyed him, then with reason he could give me whatever death he might order; but seeing that at no time, om the day I was born until now, had he ever spoken of this to me, when he remembered this, he went out the door, with his face bathed in tears, with his purpose changed, very sad and worried, like a very pious king, very Christian and brave. One of those that he had brought with him on that day, a pitiless and angry knight, said these words om behind him:

160 “My lord, your pity

165

merits reproach, given that, without necessity, the tears of a woman changed your will. Do you want your son to be siring children with a mistress, as if he were married? [ 67 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

130

de vós mais me maravilho que dele, qu’é namorado. “Se a logo não matais, não sereis nunca temido nem farão o que mandais, pois tão cedo vos mudais, do conselho qu’era havido. Olhai quão justa querela tendes, pois, por amor dela, vosso filho quer estar sem casar e nos quer dar muita guerra com Castela. “Com sua morte escusareis muitas mortes, muitos danos; vós, Senhor, descansareis, e a vós e a nós dareis paz para duzentos anos. O príncipe casará, filhos de bênção terá, será fora de pecado; qu’agora seja anojado, amenhã lh’esquecerá.” E ouvindo seu dizer, el-Rei ficou mui torvado por se em tais estremos ver, e que havia de fazer ou um ou outro, forçado. Desejava dar-me vida, por lhe não ter merecida a morte nem nenhum mal; sentia pena mortal por ter feito tal partida. E vendo que se lhe dava a ele tod’esta culpa, e que tanto o apertava, disse àquele que bradava: “Minha tenção me desculpa. [ 68 ]

170 “If you don’t kill her,

175

you will not be respected, nor will they do as you command, because you’re so quick to change your mind and discount the advice you were given. Look what a just complaint you have, given that, because of her love, your son wishes to remain unmarried and give us war with Castile.

180 “With her death you will prevent

185

190

195

200

many deaths and much harm; you, my lord, will be able to rest, and you will bestow peace on all of us for two hundred years. e prince will marry, he will have legitimate children, and he will be out of a state of sin. Let him be angry now, he’ll have forgoen it by tomorrow.” And hearing the knight’s speech, the king became very distressed, seeing himself in such a dilemma and forced to do one thing or the other. He wanted to spare my life, as I did not deserve death or any harm; he felt mortal punishment for having made that trip. And seeing that he placed all this blame upon himself, and that it troubled him so much, he said to the knight who had been shouting at him: “My resolve pardons me. [ 69 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

I marvel more at you than at him, who is in love.

Se o vós quereis fazer, fazei-o sem mo dizer, qu’eu nisso não mando nada, nem vejo essa coitada por que deva de morrer.” Fim Dous cavaleiros irosos, que tais palavras lh’ouviram, mui crus e não piadosos, perversos, desamorosos, contra mim rijo se viram; com as espadas na mão, m’atravessam o coração, a confissão me tolheram. Este é o galardão que meus amores me deram.

[ 70 ]

If you want to do it, do so without telling me, as I order nothing in this respect, nor do I see why that poor woman should die.” e end

210

215

Two angry knights, hearing these words, very cruel and lacking compassion, perverse and hateful, came harshly against me. With swords in their hands they pierced my heart, keeping me om my last confession: this is the reward that my feelings of love brought upon me.

[ 71 ]

* Garcia de Resende *

205

bernardim ribeiro (1482?–1550?)

Very lile is known about the life of Bernardim Ribeiro. He was born in Portugal at the end of the fieenth century, and he may have studied at the University of Lisbon om 1507 to 1511 before being given the post of royal scribe in 1524 (it is not clear that the Bernardim Ribeiro named in these documents is the same person). Along with Gil Vicente and Francisco de Sá de Miranda, Ribeiro belonged to the group of poets associated with the royal court, and he contributed to Garcia de Resende’s Cancioneiro geral (General songbook), published in 1516. It is also believed that he spent time in Italy, where he became familiar with the literary innovations taking shape there. While Ribeiro is recognized as an accomplished lyric poet, he is most famous as the author of Menina e moça (Girl and maiden), the earliest known work of pastoral fiction wrien in Portuguese. Menina e moça was first published in Ferrara in 1554 (aer Ribeiro’s death) by Abraão Usque, a Judeo-Portuguese exile also responsible for the publication of the Ferrara Bible and Samuel Usque’s Consolação às tribulações de Israel (Consolation for the tribulations of Israel). In part because of this connection to Usque, it is believed by some scholars (most notably Helder Macedo) that Ribeiro was either himself Jewish or the child of Jewish converts to Christianity. Subsequent editions of Menina e moça appeared in 1557 (in Évora, with the title Saudades [Longings]) and in 1559 (in Cologne, this edition based on the 1554 edition). e 1557 Évora edition is notable in that it greatly extends the length of Ribeiro’s original story. Ribeiro’s published work consists of twelve poems in the Cancioneiro geral, five eclogues, a sestina called “Ontem pôs-se o Sol” (e sun set yesterday), Menina e moça, and, as Carolina Michaëlis has argued, a traditional ballad (romance) called “Ao longo de uma ribeira” (Along a riverside) within the Cancionero de romances de 1550 (Ballad songbook of 1550) published in Antwerp. [ 73 ]

Nunca foi mal nenhum mor Nunca foi mal nenhum mor nem n’o há aí nos amores, que a lembrança do favor no tempo dos desfavores. Eu, por minha má ventura não há já mal que não visse, mas nunca tanta tristura me lembra qu’inda sentisse. Fui e sou grande amador, e vai-me bem mal d’amores, e muitos vi de grã dor, mas est’é suma das dores.

Entre tamanhas mudanças Entre tamanhas mudanças, que cousa terei segura? Duvidosas esperanças, tão certa desaventura. Venham estes desenganos do meu longo engano, e vão, que já o tempo e os anos outros cuidados me dão. Já não sou para mudanças, mas quero uma dor segura: vá crer as vãs esperanças quem não sabe o qu’aventura!

Com quantas cousas perdi Com quantas cousas perdi ainda me consolara, se m’esperança ficara.

[ 74 ]

Never was there a greater pain (nor is there) in love, than the memory of favors in a time of disfavor. With all my misfortune, there is no pain that I’ve not seen; but I cannot remember ever having felt sadness such as this. I was and am a great lover, and I am suffering greatly for love. I have seen many in great pain, but this is the greatest of them all.

Amid So Much Change Amid so much change, of what can I be sure? Doubtful hopes, such certain dismay. I now welcome these disappointments om my long and vain deception. Time and the passing years have given me other worries. Now I have no desire for change, and I prefer certain pain. Let the one who doesn’t know what he risks believe in vain hopes!

With All at I’ve Lost With all that I’ve lost I would yet be consoled if only my hope remained.

[ 75 ]

* Bernardim Ribeiro *

Never Was ere a Greater Pain

Mas parece que sabia desaventura ou mudança se me ficasse esperança, o bem que me ficaria. Tornou-se-m’em noite o dia; quem tanto bem m’outorgara qu’ao menos eu m’enganara! Tudo me desesperou, desamparado de mim: cuidado que não tem fim, este só me não leixou. De mim nada me ficou: a vida inda me leixara, se me lá assi não ficara. Fui tanto tempo enganado quanto cumpriu a meus danos, agora vão-s’os enganos que cumpria a meu cuidado. Tudo do qu’era é mudado: se m’eu também só mudara, quantas mágoas qu’atalhara!

[ 76 ]

10

15

20

But it seems that any good that might have endured would only have become misfortune or change had my hope remained. My day turned into night; would that I had not so believed the one who granted me so much! Everything has abandoned me, and I have abandoned myself: worry without end, this is all that has not le me. I have nothing le: I would say that life itself had abandoned me, were it not the case that it remained. I was tricked for as long as needed for the harm to be complete; now the delusions that brought about my distress have taken their leave. All that was has changed: if only I too had changed, how much sorrow would be cut short!

[ 77 ]

* Bernardim Ribeiro *

5

cristóbal de castillejo (1491–1556)

Cristóbal de Castillejo was born in Ciudad Rodrigo, Castile, and as a young man he served as a page in the court of Fernando II of Aragon. When Carlos V came to the throne of Castile and Aragon in 1518, the new ruler dismissed many of his predecessor’s servants, and it is assumed that Castillejo le as well. In 1520, Castillejo entered the Cistercian monastery of Santa María de Valdeiglesias, and during his time there he was sent to England as a diplomat with the purpose of forging peace between Henry VIII of England, Carlos V, and François I of France. While lile is known about his monastic life, we do know that he returned to courtly life in 1525, this time in Vienna under the service of Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor. His final resting place was the Cistercian monastery of Neukloster, Germany, a place where other important figures such as Leonor of Portugal are buried. As the poem included in this anthology indicates, Castillejo was a champion of traditional Castilian verse, especially shorter lines like the octosyllable, hexasyllable, and tetrasyllable, and he derided those who wrote in Italianate forms. During his lifetime, he published three poems: Sermón de amores (1542; Sermon of love), Diálogo de mujeres (1544; Dialogue of women), and Diálogo entre el autor y su pluma (1550; Dialogue between the author and his pen). e rest of his works are thought to have circulated in manuscript form. In 1573, López Velasco edited Castillejo’s complete works, spliing them into three thematic sections: (1) works about love, (2) works about conversations and pastimes, and (3) moral and devotional works. e first section is traditionally viewed as an extension of troubadour lyrics and thus is full of allegories (e.g., the prison of love), discussion of servitude to a woman, and thoughts on the omnipotence of love. Burlesque and satirical poems abound in the second section, and while many of the poems [ 78 ]

deal with the evils of courtly life, this section also contains metaliterary texts like “Reprehensión” (Rebuke), the poem contained in the present anthology. e final section draws upon medieval rhetorical devices like debates, allegorical figures, and visions, and though its themes are at times similar to those of the second section, its tone is much more serious.

[ 79 ]

Pues la sancta Inquisición reprensión contra los poetas españoles que escriben en verso italiano Pues la sancta Inquisición suele ser tan diligente en castigar con razón cualquier secta y opinión levantada nuevamente, resucítese Lucero, a corregir en España una tan nueva y estraña, como aquella de Lutero en las partes de Alemaña. Bien se pueden castigar a cuenta de anabaptistas, pues por ley particular se tornan a baptizar y se llaman petrarquistas. Han renegado la fe de las trovas castellanas, y tras las italianas se pierden, diciendo que son más ricas y lozanas. El jüicio de lo cual yo lo dejo a quien más sabe; pero juzgar nadie mal de su patria natural en gentileza no cabe; y aquella cristiana musa del famoso Juan de Mena, sintiendo desto gran pena, por infieles los acusa y de aleves los condena. “Recuerde el alma dormida” dize don Jorge Manrique; y muéstrese muy sentida [ 80 ]

a rebuke of the spanish poets who write in italian verse

5

10

15

20

25

30

Since the Holy Inquisition tends to be so diligent in rightly punishing whichever sect and opinion is newly raised, resurrect yourself, Lucero,40 to correct in Spain a new and strange sect like that of Luther41 in the lands of Germany. ey can justifiably be punished on account of being Anabaptists,42 since by their own law they baptize themselves again and call themselves Petrarchists.43 ey have renounced the faith of Castilian verses, and behind the Italian ones they lose themselves, saying that they are richer and esher. e judgment of the maer I leave to someone who knows more; but it is not a noble obligation to reain om criticizing one’s own countrymen; and that Christian muse of the famous Juan de Mena,44 feeling great sorrow because of this, accuses them of being unfaithful and condemns them as traitors. “Let the sleeping soul awaken,” says Jorge Manrique;45 and may it show itself to be so aware [ 81 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

Since the Holy Inquisition

de cosa tan atrevida, porque más no se platique. Garci-Sánchez respondió: “¡Quién me otorgase, Señora, vida y seso en esta hora para entrar en campo yo con gente tan pecadora!” “Si algún Dios de amor había,” dijo luego Cartagena, “muestre aquí su valentía contra tan gran osadía, venida de tierra ajena.” Torres Naharro replica: “Por hacer, Amor, tus hechos consientes tales despechos, y que nuestra España rica se prive de sus derechos.” Dios dé su gloria a Boscán y a Garcilaso poeta, que con no pequeño afán y por estilo galán sostuvieron esta seta, y la dejaron acá ya sembrada entre la gente; por lo cual debidamente les vino lo que dirá este soneto siguiente: SONETO Garcilaso y Boscán, siendo llegados al lugar donde están los trovadores que en esta nuestra lengua y sus primores fueron en este siglo señalados, los unos a los otros alterados se miran, con mudanza de colores, temiéndose que fuesen corredores espías o enemigos desmandados.

[ 82 ]

“If there were some God of love,” said Cartagena later on,47 “let him show here his bravery against such great impudence 45 om a foreign land.” Torres Naharro replies:48 “Love, because of your deeds, you allow such disrespect and permit that our rich Spain 50 be deprived of its rights.”

55

60

May God give his glory to Boscà and to the poet Garcilaso, who with no small effort and for their heroic style sustained this sect, and le it here sown among the people; as a result, it rightfully came to them that which this following sonnet says: SONNET Garcilaso and Boscà, having arrived at the place where the poets gather who in this our language and its charms were in this style distinguished,

65

the poets looked at one another disturbed and with their faces changing color, fearing that the new arrivals were scouts, spies, or unruly enemies.

[ 83 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

of such an audacious thing, so that it is never discussed again. Garcí Sánchez responded:46 “May someone grant me, Lady, life and prudence now to enter the field 40 with such sinful people!” 35

Y juzgando primero por el traje, paresciéronles ser, como debía, gentiles españoles caballeros; mas oyéndoles hablar nuevo lenguaje mezclado de extranjera poesía, con ojos los miraban de extranjeros. Mas ellos, caso que estaban sin favor y tan a solas, contra todos se mostraban, y claramente burlaban de las coplas españolas, canciones y villancicos, romances y cosa tal, arte mayor y real, y pies quebrados y chicos, y todo nuestro caudal. Y en lugar destas maneras de vocablos ya sabidos en nuestras trovas caseras, cantan otras forasteras, nuevas a nuestros oídos: sonetos de grande estima, madrigales y canciones de diferentes renglones, de octava y tercera rima y otras nuevas invenciones. Desprecian cualquier cosa de coplas compuestas antes, por baja de ley, y astrosa usan ya de cierta prosa medida sin consonantes. A muchos de los que fueron elegantes y discretos tienen por simples pobretos, por sólo que no cayeron en la cuenta a los sonetos.

[ 84 ]

And judging first by their clothes, they seemed to them to be, as is the case, noble Spanish gentlemen; but hearing them speak a new language mixed with foreign poetry, they looked at them as if they were foreigners.

75

80

85

90

95

100

But Garcilaso and Boscà, although they were without favor and all alone, showed themselves to be against everyone, and openly made fun of the Spanish verses, canciones and villancicos, romances and such things, arte mayor and real, pies quebrados and chicos and all our literary wealth.49 And instead of these already familiar forms in our homemade verses, they sing other foreign ones, new to our ears: highly esteemed sonnets, madrigals and songs of different meters, of oava and terza rima50 and other new inventions. ey put down anything having to do with earlier stanzas, finding them low-grade, and they use a certain shabby prose measured without consonants. Many of those who were elegant and discreet, they consider simple and weak, only because they did not take up the sonnet.

[ 85 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

70

Daban, en fin, a entender aquellos viejos autores no haber sabido hacer buenos metros ni poner en estilo los amores; y que el metro castellano no tenía autoridad de decir con majestad lo que se dice en toscano con mayor felicidad. Mas esta falta o manquera no la dan a nuestra lengua, que es bastante y verdadera, sino sólo dicen que era de buenos ingenios mengua; y a la causa en lo pasado fueron todos carescientes destas trovas excelentes que han descubierto y hallado los modernos y presentes. Viéndo pues que presumían tanto de su nueva ciencia dijéronles que querían de aquello que referían ver algo por experiencia; para prueba de lo cual, por muestra de novel uso, cada cual de ellos compuso una rima en especial, cual se escribe aquí de yuso: SONETO [atribuido a Boscán] Si las penas que dais son verdaderas, como bien lo sabe el alma mía, ¿por qué no me acaban? y sería sin ellas el morir muy más de veras. Y si por dicha son tan lisonjeras, y quieren retozar con mi alegría, [ 86 ]

110

115

120

125

130

In the end, they made it understood that those old authors had not known how to create good meters or give style to their loves; and that the Castilian meter did not have the authority to say with majesty what is said in Italian with greater felicity. But this lack or defect they do not aribute to our language, which is good enough and authentic, but rather, they say only that it was lacking great talents; and because in the past they all were lacking these excellent poems that the moderns and contemporaries have discovered and found. Seeing that they were boasting so much about their new science, the others said that they wanted to see firsthand examples of what they were talking about; as proof of said science, and as a sample of their novel usage, both Garcilaso and Boscà composed a special rhyme, which is wrien here below. SONNET [aributed to Boscà]

135

140

If the sorrows that you inflict are true, as my soul knows well, why don’t they finish me? Without them, death would be much more efficient; and if it happens that they are so playful that they wish to toy with my happiness, [ 87 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

105

decid, ¿por qué me matan cada día de muerte de dolor de mil maneras? Mostradme este secreto ya, Señora, sepa yo por vos, pues por vos muero, si lo que padezco es muerte o vida; porque, siendo vos la matadora, mayor gloria de pena ya no quiero que poder alegar tal homicida. OCTAVA [atribuido a Garcilaso] Ya que mis tormentos son forzados, bien que son sin fuerza consentidos, ¿qué mayor alivio en mis cuidados que ser por vuestra causa padecidos? Si como son en vos bien empleados de vos fuesen, Señora, conoscidos, la mayor angustia de mi pena sería de descanso y gloria llena. Juan de Mena, como oyó la nueva trova polida, contentamiento mostró, caso que se sonrió como de cosa sabida, y dijo: “Según la prueba, once sílabas por pie no hallo causa por qué se tenga por cosa nueva, pues yo mismo las usé.” Don Jorge dijo: “No veo necesidad ni razón de vestir nuevo deseo de coplas que por rodeo van diciendo su intención. Nuestra lengua es muy devota de la clara brevedad, y esta trova, a la verdad,

[ 88 ]

145

Show me this secret now, lady. May I know it om you, since for you I am dying, if what I suffer is death or life; because, since you are the murderer, I wish no greater glory of sorrow than to allege such a homicide. OCTAVA (aributed to Garcilaso)

150

155

160

165

170

Since my torments are unnatural, though they are without a doubt consensual, what greater relief could there be than to be, for your cause, in agony? If my torments were to be known by you, lady (since in you they are well employed), the greatest anguish of my suffering would be to rest in heavenly glory. Juan de Mena, once he heard the new polished stanza, showed contentment, although he smiled as if he knew full well and said, “According to this, I do not see why it is that eleven syllables per line is considered something new, since I used it too.” Don Jorge said, “I do not see the need nor the reason to clothe a new desire for stanzas that so beat around the bush. Our language is very devoted to clear brevity, and this line, truth be told,

[ 89 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

tell me: Why do they murder me every day with a painful death in a thousand different ways?

por el contrario, denota oscura prolijidad.” Garci-Sánchez se mostró estar con alguna saña, y dijo: “No cumple, no, al que en España nació valerse de tierra estraña; porque en solas mis liciones, miradas bien sus estancias, veréis tales consonancias, que Petrarca y sus canciones queda atrás en elegancias.” Cartagena dijo luego, como plático en amores: “Con la fuerza d’este fuego no nos ganarán el juego estos nuevos trovadores. Muy melancólicas son estas trovas, a mi ver, enfadosas de leer, y tardías de relación y enemigas de plazer.” Torres dijo: “Si yo viera que la lengua castellana sonetos de mí suiera, fácilmente los hiciera, pues lo hice en la romana; pero ningún sabor tomo en coplas tan altaneras, escriptas siempre de veras, que corren con pies de plomo, muy pesadas de caderas.” Al cabo la conclusión fue que por buena crïanza y por honrar la nación, de parte de la invención sean dignas de alabanza. [ 90 ]

180

185

on the contrary, denotes obscure prolixity.” Garci Sánchez showed himself to be somewhat angry and said, “It isn’t right that in Spain we should come to depend on some foreign land; because in my Liciones alone,51 if you look at the estancias,52 you will see these characteristics, which Petrarch and his songs do not match in elegance.”

Cartagena said later on, as a speech about love, “With the power of this fire, 190 these new poets will not defeat us in this game. eir stanzas are very melancholic, in my opinion, tedious to read, 195 old-fashioned in their themes, and enemies of pleasure.”

200

205

210

Torres said, “If I had known that the Castilian language would permit me sonnets, I would easily have wrien them, for I wrote them in the Roman language; but I do not find any relish in such haughty stanzas, always wrien so seriously, which run with feet of lead and very heavy hips.” In the end, the conclusion was that out of good upbringing and to honor the nation, the innovation should be deemed worthy of praise. [ 91 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

175

Y para que a todos fuese manifiesto este favor, se dio cargo a un trovador que aquí debajo escribiese un soneto en su loor: SONETO Musas italïanas y latinas, gentes en estas partes tan extrañas, ¿cómo habéis venido a nuestra España, tan nuevas y hermosas clavellinas? O ¿quién os ha traído a ser vecinas del Tajo, de sus montes y campaña? O ¿quién es el que os guía y acompaña de tierras tan ajenas peregrinas? “Don Diego de Mendoza y Garcilaso nos trujeron, y Boscán e Luis de Haro, por orden y favor del dios Apolo. Los dos llevó la muerte paso a paso, Solimán el otro, y por amparo nos queda don Dïego, y basta solo.”

[ 92 ]

SONNET

220

Italian and Latin muses, such strange people in these lands, so new and beautiful carnations, how have you arrived in our Spain? Oh, who has made you neighbors of the Tagus, of its mountains and countryside? Oh, who is the one who guides and accompanies you om such strange and far-flung lands?

225

230

“Don Diego de Mendoza and Garcilaso53 brought us, and Boscà and Luis de Haro, by the order of and with the help of the god Apollo.” Death carried away the pair by and by, Suleyman took the third, and for our protection don Diego remains, and he alone is enough.

[ 93 ]

* Cristóbal de Castillejo *

215

And so that this honor might be manifest to everyone, a troubadour was put in charge of what is wrien below, a sonnet in its praise:

part ii

Venus

. . . al remo condenado, en la concha de Venus amarrado.54 Garcilaso de la Vega, “Ode ad florem Gnidi”

Lorenzo Loo, Venus and Cupid (ca. 1523–26). Oil on canvas, 36⅜ × 43⅞ in. Purchase, Mrs. Charles Wrightsman Gi, in honor of Mariea Tree, 1986 (1986.138). e Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY, USA. Photograph: © e Metropolitan Museum of Art / Art Resource, New York.

francisco de sá de miranda (1481–1558)

Born in Coimbra, Francisco de Sá de Miranda was an illegitimate son of Gonçalo Mendes de Sá and Dona Inês de Melo. Like many early modern writers, he studied law, even earning a doctorate om the University of Lisbon. Shortly thereaer he traveled to Italy, where he became familiar with Italian verse forms and meters: the sonnet and canzone of Petrarch, the tercet of Dante, the oava rima of Ariosto, the Sannazzaran eclogue, and the Italian hendecasyllabic verse. Around 1530, he married Briolanja d’Azevedo and moved to Minho. Together they had two children. His eldest son, named Gonçalo Mendes de Sá aer his grandfather, lost his life in a military campaign in Aica, while Briolanja d’Azevedo passed away in 1555. ree years later, Sá de Miranda himself died. Sá de Miranda is credited with bringing the Italian hendecasyllabic line and some poetic forms like the sonnet and eclogue to Portugal. During his travels in Italy he met prominent writers like Vioria Colonna, Pietro Bembo, and Jacopo Sannazaro, who had a tremendous impact on his writing. Moreover, on his way back to Portugal om Italy Sá de Miranda met both Garcilaso de la Vega and Joan Boscà, and their imitations of Italian verse in Castilian would come to serve as a kind of model for his own work. Sá de Miranda’s first aempts at renovating Iberian lyric can be found in Fábula do Mondego (Fable of the Mondego), wrien in Spanish, and Alexo (Alexo), an eclogue. His later works, however, are arguably his best, and they include his eclogue Basto (Basto) and his Cartas (Leers). In addition to being a renowned poet, he was an innovative playwright, composing tragic works like Os estrangeiros (e foreigners) and Os vilhalpandos (e Vilhapandos) that went against the prevailing taste for the popular theater of Gil Vicente.

[ 97 ]

O sol é grande: caem co’a calma as aves O sol é grande: caem co’a calma as aves, do tempo em tal sazão, que sói ser ia; esta água que d’alto cai acordar-m’-ia, do sono não, mas de cuidados graves. Ó cousas, todas vãs, todas mudaveis, qual é tal coração qu’em vós confia? Passam os tempos, vai dia trás dia, incertos muito mais que ao vento as naves. Eu vira já aqui sombras, vira flores, vi tantas águas, vi tanta verdura, As aves todas cantavam d’amores. Tudo é seco e mudo; e, de mestura, também mudando-m’eu fiz doutras cores: e tudo o mais renova, isto é sem cura!

Aquela fé tão clara e verdadeira Aquela fé tão clara e verdadeira, a vontade tão limpa e tão sem mágoa, tantas vezes provada em viva ágoa de fogo, e apurada, e sempre inteira; Aquela confiança, de maneira qu’encheu de fogo o peito, os olhos d’água, por que eu ledo passei por tanta mágoa, culpa primeira minha e derradeira; De que me aproveitou? Não de al por certo que dum só nome tão leve e tão vão, custoso ao rosto, tão custoso à vida. Dei de mim que falar ao longe e ao perto, e já assi se consola a alma perdida; se não achar piedade, ache perdão. [ 98 ]

e sun is large: the birds calmly descend om the air in this season, which tends to be cold. Oh, that the water that falls om above would stir me, not om sleep, but om grave cares. Oh things, all futile, all changeable, what heart trusts in you? Time passes, one day follows another, much more uncertain than ships in the wind. Here I had seen shade; I had seen flowers; I saw so many waters, I saw so much greenery; all the birds were singing of love. Now all is dry and mute, and likewise mixed and changing, I took on different colors. And everything else is renewed: this is incurable!

at Faith So Clear and True at faith so clear and true, that will so clean and without sorrow, so many times tested in a forge burning with fire, and honed, and always whole; at courage, such that it filled my breast with ardor, my eyes with water; how I happily passed through so much sorrow, first and last fault of mine, What good did it do me? Nothing for certain other than just a name so light and so empty, costly to my face, and so costly to my life. I decided to go off speaking far and near, and in this way find solace for my lost soul; if I don’t find pity, then may I find forgiveness. [ 99 ]

* Francisco de Sá de Miranda *

e Sun Is Large: e Birds Calmly Descend

Del Tibre emvuelto a nuestro Tajo ufano Del Tibre emvuelto a nuestro Tajo ufano, de sus arenas de oro y rica playa, enchí todo de quejas, venga o vaya, llorando por la muerte surda en vano. Fragua de fuego, que no pecho humano, quantas de torres, quanta de atalaya alzas cada hora, afin que todo caiga por tierra, y metan todo a sacomano! Qué Sísifo queréis más embebido en sus trabajos y loca porfia? Eislo arribado al monte, y eislo caído. Noche tras noche va, día tras día; ya no pido merced; remedio pido; volverme he a loquear como solía.

[ 100 ]

From the enfolded Tiber to our abundant Tagus, with its sands of gold and rich banks, I filled everything up with complaints, crying in vain over mute death.55 Forge of fire in the human chest, how many spires, how many watchtowers do you erect each hour, just for it all to fall to the earth to be ransacked! What Sisyphus do you want more absorbed56 in your works and crazed insistence? See him high on the mountain, see him fallen. Night aer night, day aer day; I no longer ask for pity; I ask for a remedy; let me go back to saying senseless things as before.

[ 101 ]

* Francisco de Sá de Miranda *

From the Enfolded Tiber to Our Abundant Tagus

joan boscà (1490?–1542)

Joan Boscà Almogàver was born in Barcelona sometime between 1487 and 1492 into a family with literary ties, as his grandfather had been a composer of cancionero poetry. A servant of the Catholic Monarchs, Boscà studied under Lucío Marineo Sículo and came into contact with many of the big names of the Italian Renaissance, including Baldassare Castiglione and the Venetian ambassador Andrea Navagero. e famous 1526 meeting between Boscà and Navagero in Granada, in fact, is popularly held to be the precise moment at which the sixteenth-century movement to compose Castilian poetry using Italian verse forms truly took off. Boscà performed military service for Carlos V at the Siege of Rhodes in 1522 as well as at the defense of the Siege of Vienna in 1529. He fell ill in Perpignan while in the service of the Duke of Alba, and he died in Barcelona on September 21, 1542. Boscà’s complete works were published posthumously in 1543 by his widow, Ana Girón de Rebolledo, through the Barcelona printer Carlos Amorós. Most agree that Boscà had organized the edition himself, as he indicates in the prologue: three books of his poetry and one book of the verses of his good iend Garcilaso de la Vega, all published under the title Las obras de Boscán y algunas de Garcilaso de la Vega repartidas en cuatro libros (e works of Boscà and some by Garcilaso de la Vega divided into four books). Boscà and Garcilaso were published together until 1569, when the Salamancan printer Simón Borgoñón decided that Garcilaso’s verses would sell beer alone than aached to the poetry of Boscà. Although Boscà was neither the first Iberian poet to be influenced by Italian literary trends nor the first to compose Castilian poetry using

[ 102 ]

hendecasyllabic verse, he and Garcilaso are widely credited with popularizing Italianate verse within the Iberian Peninsula. And while he seems to have composed poetry solely in Castilian, Boscà’s main influences are generally considered to be Ausiàs March (along with the broader Catalan lyric tradition) and Francesco Petrarch.

[ 103 ]

Dulce soñar y dulce congojarme Dulce soñar y dulce congojarme, cuando estaba soñando que soñaba; dulce gozar con lo que me engañaba, si un poco más durara el engañarme. Dulce no estar en mí, que figurarme podía cuanto bien yo deseaba; dulce placer, aunque me importunaba, que alguna vez llegaba a despertarme. ¡Oh sueño, cuánto más leve y sabroso me fueras si vinieras tan pesado que asentaras en mí con más resposo! Durmiendo, en fin, fui bienaventurado, y es justo en la mentira ser dichoso quien siempre en la verdad fue desdichado.

Soy como aquel que vive en el desierto Soy como aquel que vive en el desierto, del mundo y de sus cosas olvidado, y a descuido veis donde le ha llegado un gran amigo, al cual tuvo por muerto. Teme luego de un caso tan incierto; pero, después que bien se ha segurado, comienza a holgar pensando en lo pasado, con nuevos sentimientos muy despierto. Mas cuando ya este amigo se le parte, al cual partirse presto le conviene, la soledad empieza a selle nueva; con las hierbas del monte no se aviene, para el yermo le falta toda el arte, y tiembla cada vez que entra en su cueva. [ 104 ]

It was a sweet dream and a sweet affliction, when I dreamt that I was dreaming; a sweet enjoyment of what was deceiving me, if only the deception could last a lile longer. It was sweet not being in myself, imagining as much good as I wanted; it was a sweet pleasure, although it was disturbing that at some moment I was going to awake: Oh, sleep! How much lighter and tastier you would be if you came so heavily that you seled in me with more repose! Sleeping, in the end, I was blessed, and it is only just that he who was always cursed in truth should be blessed in the lie.

I Am Like at Man Who Lives in the Desert I am like that man who lives in the desert, forgoen by the world and its things, and by chance you see a good iend approach him, one whom he thought was dead. At first he fears such an unlikely event; but aer he has made quite sure, he becomes delighted thinking about the past, very awake with new feelings. But when this iend leaves him, as leaving quickly is in his best interest, loneliness sets in anew; among the mountain grasses he finds no peace; he now lacks all skill for the wasteland, and he trembles every time he enters his cave. [ 105 ]

* Joan Boscà *

It Was a Sweet Dream and a Sweet Affliction

Ponme en la vida más brava, importuna Ponme en la vida más brava, importuna, do pida a Dios mil veces la mortaja; ponme en edad do el seso más trabaja, o en los brazos del alma, o en la cuna. Ponme en baja o en próspera fortuna; ponme do el sol el trato humano ataja, o a do por ío el alto mar se cuaja, o en el abismo, o encima la luna. Ponme do a nuestros pies viven las gentes, o en la tierra, o en el cielo, o en el viento; ponme entre fieras, puesto entre sus dientes; do muerte y sangre es todo el fundamento; dondequiera terné siempre presentes los ojos por quien muero tan contento.

[ 106 ]

Place me in the most brutal, relentless life where I might ask God a thousand times for death; give me an age at which my wits work best, or place me in the arms of my soul, or in the crib. Place me in low or prosperous fortune; place me where the sun cuts off humane treatment or where the cold thickens the high sea, or in an abyss, or upon the moon’s surface. Place me where people live at our feet, or on earth, or in heaven, or in the winds; place me among savage beasts, between their teeth, where death and blood serve as the only foundation; wherever I am I shall always hold before me the eyes of the one for whom I die so happily.

[ 107 ]

* Joan Boscà *

Place Me in the Most Brutal, Relentless Life

garcilaso de la vega (1501?–1536)

Born in Toledo at the start of the sixteenth century, Garcilaso received a solid humanistic education before initiating an eventful military career. He was a member of both Carlos V’s imperial guard and the Order of Santiago, and his military duties took him to Italy, Germany, Tunisia, and France. It was in France in 1536 that Garcilaso would meet his end, dying om wounds sustained in bale near Le Muy. Garcilaso’s personal life was also eventful. His first love was Guiomar Carrillo, with whom he had an illegitimate child. It is also thought by some that he had an affair with a Portuguese lady-in-waiting named Isabel Freire, who in 1529 married the Portuguese nobleman António de Fonseca. e principal evidence for this affair resides in a single manuscript (Madrid, BN MS 17.969), which contains a copla, commonly aributed to Garcilaso (although this has been contested), in which he complains bierly about the match.57 In 1525 Garcilaso married Elena de Zúñiga, a lady-in-waiting for Carlos V’s sister Leonor. He had six children in all: Lorenzo (his child with Guiomar Carrillo), Garcilaso, Íñigo de Zúñiga, Pedro de Guzmán, Sancha, and Francisco. Many twentieth-century critics have interpreted Garcilaso’s poetry om a biographical standpoint, observing a sense of sincerity that ostensibly manifests itself through poetic expression of unrequited love for Isabel Freire and grief aer her death. Other critics have chosen to focus on his formal innovations. Profoundly influenced by Italian Renaissance poetry, Garcilaso is perhaps best known as the first poet to adapt fully the eleven-syllable (according to the Castilian system) Italian verse to Castilian poetry. ere were of course other poets that aempted to compose Castilian verse using the Italian hendecasyllabic verse form (Francisco Imperial [fl. 1400], the Marqués de Santillana, and Joan Boscà stand out), but Garcilaso is considered to have been the first to do it fully and well. [ 108 ]

Garcilaso’s known works include forty sonnets, seven Castilian coplas, five songs, four odes, three eclogues, two elegies, and a verse epistle to Joan Boscà. He is easily one of the most influential poets of the Iberian Renaissance, inspiring poets such as Fray Luis de León, Joan Boscà, San Juan de la Cruz, Luís de Camões, Miguel de Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Luis de Góngora, and Francisco Quevedo.

[ 109 ]

Cuando me paro a contemplar mi estado Cuando me paro a contemplar mi estado, y a ver los pasos por do me ha traído, hallo, según por do anduve perdido, que a mayor mal pudiera haber llegado; mas cuando del camino estó olvidado, a tanto mal no sé por do he venido; sé que me acabo, y más he yo sentido ver acabar conmigo mi cuidado. Yo acabaré, que me entregué sin arte a quien sabrá perderme y acabarme, si ella quisiere, y aún sabrá querello; que, pues, mi voluntad puede matarme, la suya, que no es tanto de mi parte, pudiendo, ¿qué hará sino hacello?

En tanto que de rosa y azucena En tanto que de rosa y azucena se muestra la color en vuestro gesto, y que vuestro mirar ardiente, honesto, enciende al corazón y lo reena; y en tanto que el cabello, que en la vena del oro se escogió, con vuelo presto, por el hermoso cuello blanco, enhiesto, el viento mueve, esparce y desordena; coged de vuestra alegre primavera el dulce uto, antes que el tiempo airado cubra de nieve la hermosa cumbre. Marchitará la rosa el viento helado, todo lo mudará la edad ligera, por no hacer mudanza en su costumbre. [ 110 ]

When I stop to contemplate my situation, and to see where my steps have brought me, I find, judging by where I walked along lost, that I might have reached a far worse place; but when I forget the journey, I can’t recall how I arrived at such misery; I know I am dying, and what pains me more is seeing my sadness end with me. I will die, for I artlessly surrendered to one who is able to ruin and kill me if she wishes, and she will yet wish it; for if my own will can kill me, her will, which is even less on my side, being able, what else will it do but that?

As Long as the Colors of Rose and Lily As long as the colors of rose and lily reveal themselves on your face, and your look, passionate and chaste, both ignites and restrains the heart; and as long as your hair, which om a vein of gold was mined, with quick flight around your beautiful, white, haughty neck, the wind moves, scaers, and disorders; seize om your joyous spring the sweet uit, before angry time covers with snow your beautiful summit. e rose will wither in the icy wind, nimble time will alter everything, so as not to stray om its habit. [ 111 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

When I Stop to Contemplate My Situation

Boscán, las armas y el furor de Marte a boscán desde la goleta Boscán, las armas y el furor de Marte, que con su propia fuerza el aicano suelo regando, hacen que el romano imperio reverdesca en esta parte, han reducido a la memoria el arte y el antiguo valor italïano, por cuya fuerza y valerosa mano Áica se aterró de parte a parte. Aquí donde el romano encendimiento, donde el fuego y la llama licenciosa sólo el nombre dejaron a Cartago, vuelve y revuelve Amor mi pensamiento, hiere y enciende el alma temerosa, y en llanto y en ceniza me deshago.

Si de mi baja lira oda ad florem gnidi Si de mi baja lira tanto pudiese el son, que un momento aplacase la ira del animoso viento y la furia del mar y el movimiento; y en ásperas montañas con el suave canto enterneciese las fieras alimañas, los árboles moviese, y al son confusamente los trajese; no pienses que cantado sería de mí, hermosa flor de Gnido, [ 112 ]

to boscán, from la goulette 58 Boscán, the arms and fury of Mars,59 which by their own force wet the Aican soil60 and make it so that the Roman Empire springs anew in this land, have reduced to memory the skill and ancient valor of the Italians, by whose force and valiant hand all of Aica was once terrified. Here where the Roman burning, the fire and licentious flame have le of Carthage only its name,61 Love returns and stirs my thoughts, he wounds and inflames the fearful soul, and in weeping and ashes I am undone.62

If om My Lowly Lyre ode to the flower of gnido 63

5

10

If om my lowly lyre the sound were so powerful that in one moment it might calm the anger of the raging wind, and the fury and motion of the sea, and in the jagged mountains with sweet song I could calm the fiercest beasts, move the trees, and bring them in confusion to the sound; do not think, beautiful flower of Gnido, that I would sing [ 113 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

Boscán, e Arms and Fury of Mars

el fiero Marte airado, a muerte convertido, de polvo y sangre y de sudor teñido; ni aquellos capitanes en las sublimes ruedas colocados, por quien los alemanes, el fiero cuello atados, y los anceses van domesticados; mas solamente aquella fuerza de tu beldad sería cantada, y alguna vez con ella también sería notada el aspereza de que estás armada; y cómo por ti sola, y por tu gran valor y hermosura, convertido en viola, llora su desventura el miserable amante en su figura. Hablo de aquel cautivo, de quien tener se debe más cuidado, que está muriendo vivo, al remo condenado, en la concha de Venus amarrado. Por ti, como solía, del áspero caballo no corrige la furia y gallardía, ni con eno le rige, ni con vivas espuelas ya le aflige. Por ti, con diestra mano no revuelve la espada presurosa, y en el dudoso llano huye la polvorosa palestra como sierpe ponzoñosa.

[ 114 ]

20

nor of those captains seated on sublime wheels, by whom the proud necks of Germans are tied, and the French are tamed.

25

I would sing only of your beauty, and sometimes, with it, I would also note the harshness with which you are armed;

30

and how because of you alone and because of your great merit and beauty, the distressed lover, transformed into the figure of a violet, weeps over his misfortune.

35

I speak of that captive about whom one should be more concerned, and who is dying alive, condemned to row, bound within the shell of Venus.

40

Because of you, no longer does he correct the fury and boldness of his furious horse, nor does he control it with the rein nor afflict it with lively spurs.

45

Because of you, he does not, with skillful hand, brandish the swi sword, and on the doubtful plain, he flees the dusty field as if it were a venomous snake.

[ 115 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

15

of proud and wrathful Mars,64 devoted to death, stained with dust and blood and sweat,

Por ti, su blanda musa, en lugar de la cítara sonante, tristes querellas usa, que con llanto abundante hacen bañar el rostro del amante. Por ti, el mayor amigo le es importuno, grave y enojoso; yo puedo ser testigo, que ya del peligroso nauagio fui su puerto y su reposo. Y agora en tal manera vence el dolor a la razón perdida, que ponzoñosa fiera nunca fue aborrecida tanto como yo dél, ni tan temida. No fuiste tú engendrada ni producida de la dura tierra; no debe ser notada que ingratamente yerra quien todo el otro error de sí destierra. Hágate temerosa el caso de Anajérete, y cobarde, que de ser desdeñosa se arrepintió más tarde; y así su alma con su mármol arde. Estábase alegrando del mal ajeno el pecho empedernido, cuando abajo mirando, el cuerpo muerto vido del miserable amante, allí tendido; y al cuello el lazo atado, con que desenlazó de la cadena el corazón cuitado, que con su breve pena compró la eterna punición ajena. [ 116 ]

55

Because of you, his best iend seems to him bothersome, somber, annoying. I can be a witness, who was his port and resting place om dangerous shipwreck;

60

and now, pain so conquers his lost reason that no poisonous beast was ever as abhorred by him as I am, nor as feared.

65

You were not engendered nor produced by the hard earth; she should not be singled out as ungrateful who so banishes all other faults om herself.

70

Be aaid and apprehensive of the case of Anaxarete,65 who repented too late for being scornful; and hence her soul burns along with her marble.

75

Her hardened heart was reveling in another’s suffering when looking down, she saw the dead body of her miserable lover, spread out there,

80

and tied to his neck was the rope with which he eed his despairing heart om its chain and with his brief suffering purchased another’s eternal punishment. [ 117 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

50

Because of you, his delicate muse, instead of playing the sonorous lyre, he makes sad complaints that with abundant tears bathe the lover’s face.

Sintió allí convertirse en piedad amorosa el aspereza. ¡Oh tarde arrepentirse! ¡Oh última terneza! ¿Cómo te sucedió mayor dureza? Los ojos se enclavaron en el tendido cuerpo que allí vieron, los huesos se tornaron más duros y crecieron, y en sí toda la carne convirtieron; las entrañas heladas tornaron poco a poco en piedra dura; por las venas cuitadas la sangre su figura iba desconociendo y su natura; hasta que, finalmente, en duro mármol vuelta y transformada, hizo de sí la gente no tan maravillada cuanto de aquella ingratitud vengada. No quieras tú, señora, de Némesis airada las saetas probar, por Dios, agora; baste que tus perfetas obras y hermosura a los poetas den inmortal materia, sin que también en verso lamentable celebren la miseria de algún caso notable que por ti pase triste y miserable.

[ 118 ]

90

Her eyes became fixed on the body stretched out before her; her bones became harder and grew, and all her flesh turned into the same material;

95

Her icy entrails lile by lile turned into hard stone; in her distressed veins the blood was losing its form and its nature;

100

until finally, she was transformed into hard marble, and the people thought of her not so much as a wonder but rather as a sign of ingratitude avenged.

105

May you not desire, my lady, to taste now, by God, the arrows of haughty Nemesis;67 let it suffice that your perfect works and beauty provide the poets

110

with endless material, without them also celebrating in lamentable verse the agony of some notably sad and horrible incident that took place because of you.

[ 119 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

85

ere she felt her harshness turn into loving mercy. Oh to repent too late! Oh final tenderness! How did greater hardness come to you?66

Aquella voluntad honesta y pura égloga iii Aquella voluntad honesta y pura, ilustre y hermosísima María, que en mí de celebrar tu hermosura, tu ingenio y tu valor estar solía, a despecho y pesar de la ventura que por otro camino me desvía, está y estará en mí tanto clavada, cuanto del cuerpo el alma acompañada. Y aun no se me figura que me toca aqueste oficio solamente en vida; mas con la lengua muerta y ía en la boca pienso mover la voz a ti debida; libre mi alma de su estrecha roca, por el Estigio lago conducida, celebrándote irá, y aquel sonido hará parar las aguas del olvido. Mas la fortuna, de mi mal no harta, me aflige y de un trabajo en otro lleva; ya de la patria, ya del bien me aparta, ya mi paciencia en mil maneras prueba; y lo que siento más es que la carta, donde mi pluma en tu alabanza mueva, poniendo en su lugar cuidados vanos, me quita y me arrebata de las manos. Pero, por más que en mí su fuerza pruebe, no tornará mi corazón mudable; nunca dirán jamás que me remueve fortuna de un estudio tan loable; Apolo y las hermanas, todas nueve, me darán ocio y lengua con que hable lo menos de lo que en tu ser cupiere, que esto será lo más que yo pudiere.

[ 120 ]

eclogue iii

5

10

15

20

25

30

at honest and pure will, illustrious and most beautiful María,68 that once dwelled in me to celebrate your beauty, your intellect, and your value, despite the bad fortune that forces me down another path, is and always will be fixed in me just as the soul is accompanied by the body. And I cannot imagine that this lot falls upon me only in life; with my dead and cold tongue in my mouth I plan to stir the voice that is owed you. My soul, ee of its narrow prison, ferried across the River Styx,69 will go on gloriing you, and that sound will stop the waters of oblivion. But fortune, not yet tired of my suffering, afflicts me and takes me om one hardship to the next; separating me om my country and what is good, it tests my patience in a thousand ways; and what I regret most is that it snatches om my hand the leer in which I was to move my pen in praise of you, puing in its place vain worries. But no maer how it tests its strength on me, my heart will not change; they will never say that fortune stirs me om such praiseworthy contemplation. Apollo and all nine sisters70 will give me rest and a tongue with which I might speak the humblest praises of which you are worthy since this will be the most I can do.

[ 121 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

at Honest and Pure Will

En tanto no te ofenda ni te harte tratar del campo y soledad que amaste, ni desdeñes aquesta inculta parte de mi estilo, que en algo ya estimaste; entre las armas del sangriento Marte, do apenas hay quien su furor contraste, hurté de tiempo aquesta breve suma, tomando ora la espada, ora la pluma. Aplica, pues, un rato los sentidos al bajo son de mi zampoña ruda, indina de llegar a tus oídos, pues de ornamento y gracia va desnuda; mas a las veces son mejor oídos el puro ingenio y lengua casi muda, testigos limpios de ánimo inocente, que la curiosidad del elocuente. Por aquesta razón de ti escuchado, aunque me falten otras, ser meresco; lo que puedo te doy, y lo que he dado, con recibillo tú yo me enriquesco. De cuatro ninfas que del Tajo amado salieron juntas, a cantar me oesco, Filódoce, Dinámene y Climene, Nise, que en hermosura par no tiene. Cerca del Tajo en soledad amena, de verdes sauces hay una espesura, toda de hiedra revestida y llena, que por el tronco va hasta el altura, y así la teje arriba y encadena, que el sol no halla paso a la verdura; el agua baña el prado con sonido alegrando la vista y el oído. Con tanta mansedumbre el cristalino Tajo en aquella parte caminaba, que pudieran los ojos el camino determinar apenas que llevaba. Peinando sus cabellos de oro fino, [ 122 ]

40

45

50

55

60

65

Apply then for a while your senses to the humble melody of my rustic flute, unworthy of reaching your ears, since it is naked of ornament and grace; but sometimes it is beer to listen to simple talent and an almost mute tongue, clean witnesses of the innocent soul, than to the sophistication of the eloquent. For this reason, I deserve to be heard by you, even though I might not have other listeners. I give you what I can, and I am enriched when you accept what I have given you. I offer to sing of four nymphs who emerged together om the beloved Tagus:73 Phyllodoce, Dynamene, Clymene, and Nise, who in beauty has no equal. Near the Tagus, in pleasant solitude, there is a patch of green willows, which are fully covered with ivy that climbs up the trunk to the top, and so weaves and links itself together that the sun cannot find its way through the greenery; water bathes the meadow, with sound that pleases the eyes and the ear. e crystalline Tagus was flowing so gently in that place that one’s eyes could hardly determine which way it was moving. Combing her hair of fine gold, [ 123 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

35

Just as you should not be offended or bored by talk of the countryside and the solitude you loved, so may you not disdain this unpolished part of my style, of which you once were fond. Among the weapons of bloodthirsty Mars,71 where almost no one can counter his fury, I stole this brief amount of time, taking now the sword, now the pen.72

una ninfa, del agua do moraba, la cabeza sacó, y el prado ameno vido de flores y de sombras lleno. Movióla el sitio umbroso, el manso viento, el suave olor de aquel florido suelo; las aves en el esco apartamiento vio descansar del trabajoso vuelo; secaba entonces el terreno aliento el sol subido en la mitad del cielo. En el silencio sólo se escuchaba un susurro de abejas que sonaba. Habiendo contemplado una gran pieza atentamente aquel lugar sombrío, somorgujó de nuevo su cabeza, y al fondo se dejó calar del río; a sus hermanas a contar empieza del verde sitio el agradable ío, y que vayan les ruega y amonesta allí con su labor a estar la siesta. No perdió en esto mucho tiempo el ruego, que las tres dellas su labor tomaron, y en mirando de fuera, vieron luego el prado, hacia el cual enderezaron; el agua clara con lacivo juego nadando dividieron y cortaron, hasta que el blanco pie tocó mojado, saliendo de la arena, el verde prado. Poniendo ya en lo enjuto las pisadas, escurrieron del agua sus cabellos, los cuales esparciendo, cobijadas las hermosas espaldas fueron dellos. Luego sacando telas delicadas, que en delgadeza competían con ellos, en lo más escondido se metieron, y a su labor atentas se pusieron.

[ 124 ]

75

80

85

90

95

100

a nymph raised her head om the water where she lived and saw the pleasant meadow full of flowers and shade. She was moved by the shady spot, the gentle breeze, the sweet smell of that flowery earth. She saw the birds in that cool niche resting om their tiresome flight. en, the sun, in the middle of the sky, was drying the earthy vapors. In the silence, one heard only the murmur of bees. Having aentively contemplated that shady spot for a time, she once again submerged her head and let herself sink to the river’s boom. She then begins to tell her sisters of the green place’s pleasant coolness, and she urges and begs them to go there to spend the aernoon with their work. She did not waste much time begging them, for three of them took their work, and when they looked out, they saw the meadow, toward which they headed. Swimming, they split and parted the clear water with wanton ivolity, until their white feet touched the wet, green meadow as they le the sand. Stepping now upon dry land, they wrung the water out of their hair, tossing their tresses, leaving their lovely backs covered in locks. en, taking out delicate fabrics, which competed in fineness with their hair, they entered the most hidden part and began to focus on their work.

[ 125 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

70

Las telas eran hechas y tejidas del oro que el felice Tajo envía, apurado, después de bien cernidas las menudas arenas do se cría; y de las verdes hojas, reducidas en estambre sutil, cual convenía para seguir el delicado estilo del oro ya tirado en rico hilo. La delicada estambre era distinta de las colores que antes le habían dado con la fineza de la varia tinta que se halla en las conchas del pescado; tanto artificio muestra en lo que pinta y teje cada ninfa en su labrado, quanto mostraron en sus tablas antes el celebrado Apeles y Timantes. Filódoce, que así de aquéllas era llamada la mayor, con diestra mano tenía figurada la ribera de Estrimón, de una parte el verde llano, y de otra el monte de aspereza fiera, pisado tarde o nunca de pie humano, donde el amor movió con tanta gracia la dolorosa lengua del de Tracia. Estaba figurada la hermosa Eurídice, en el blanco pie mordida de la pequeña sierpe ponzoñosa, entre la hierba y flores escondida; descolorida estaba como rosa que ha sido fuera de sazón cogida, y el ánima, los ojos ya volviendo, de la hermosa carne despidiendo. Figurado se vía estensamente el osado marido que bajaba al triste reino de la escura gente, y la mujer perdida recobraba; y cómo después desto él, impaciente [ 126 ]

110

115

120

125

130

135

140

eir fabrics were made and woven om gold that the happy Tagus gives, refined, aer being sorted out among the fine sands where it is bred, and om the green leaves, converted into fine yarn, which serves to complement the delicate style of gold, now drawn into rich thread. e delicate yarn was dyed a different color om its original using the various fine pigments found in the shells of fish. Each nymph shows as much artistry in what she depicts in her woven work as the celebrated Apelles and Timanthes74 once showed in their paintings. Phyllodoce, as this was the name of the oldest nymph, depicted, with a skillful hand, the banks of Strymon:75 the green plain on one side and on the other, the wild, jagged mountain, seldom or never trodden by human foot, where love moved so gracefully the grieving tongue of the racian.76 Lovely Eurydice77 was depicted bien on her white foot by the small poisonous snake hidden among the grass and flowers; she was pale like a rose that has been picked out of season, and as her eyes rolled back, her soul was parting om her beautiful flesh. One could see fully depicted the daring husband descending to the sad realm of the shades, and the lost wife recovered; and how aerward he, impatient [ 127 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

105

por miralla de nuevo, la tornaba a perder otra vez, y del tirano se queja al monte solitario en vano. Dinámene no menos artificio mostraba en la labor que había tejido, pintando a Apolo en el robusto oficio de la silvestre caza embebecido. Mudar presto le hace el ejercicio la vengativa mano de Cupido, que hizo a Apolo consumirse en lloro después que le enclavó con punta de oro. Dafne con el cabello suelto al viento, sin perdonar al blanco pie, corría por áspero camino tan sin tiento, que Apolo en la pintura parecía que, porque ella templase el movimiento, con menos ligereza la seguía. Él va siguiendo, y ella huye como quien siente al pecho el odïoso plomo. Mas a la fin los brazos le crecían, y en sendos ramos vueltos se mostraban; y los cabellos, que vencer solían al oro fino, en hojas se tornaban; en torcidas raíces se estendían los blancos pies, y en tierra se hincaban. Llora el amante, y busca el ser primero, besando y abrazando aquel madero. Climene, llena de destreza y maña, el oro y las colores matizando, iba de hayas una gran montaña de robles y de peñas variando; un puerco entre ellas, de braveza extraña, estaba los colmillos aguzando contra un mozo no menos animoso, con su venablo en mano, que hermoso.

[ 128 ]

145

150

155

160

165

170

175

Dynamene showed no less artistry in her handiwork that she had woven, having painted Apollo engaged in the robust exercise of sylvan hunting. e vengeful hand of Cupid then makes him change his occupation, forcing Apollo to consume himself in tears aer having pierced him with a golden tip. Daphne,78 with her hair blowing in the wind and without sparing her white feet, ran down a rough road with such abandon that it seemed in the picture that Apollo lagged behind in the hope that she might slow down. He follows, and she flees like someone who feels the hateful lead in her chest. In the end, her arms grew and turned into two branches, and her hair, which tended to outshine fine gold, turned into leaves; her white feet stretched out in twisted roots and swelled in the ground. e lover weeps and seeks the former self, kissing and hugging that piece of wood. e very apt and skillful Clymene, blending colored threads with gold, was adorning a large mountain with beech trees, oaks, and rocks. Among them, a boar of unusual ferocity was sharpening his tusks to use against a young man, who held a spear and was no less spirited than handsome.

[ 129 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

to see her again, lost her anew, and now complains of the tyrant in vain to the solitary mountain.

Tras esto, el puerco allí se vía herido de aquel mancebo por su mal valiente, y el mozo en tierra estaba ya tendido, abierto el pecho del rabioso diente; con el cabello de oro desparcido barriendo el suelo miserablemente, las rosas blancas por allí sembradas tornaba con su sangre coloradas. Adonis éste se mostraba que era, según se muestra Venus dolorida, que viendo la herida abierta y fiera, estaba sobre él casi amortecida; boca con boca coge la postrera parte del aire que solía dar vida al cuerpo, por quien ella en este suelo aborrecido tuvo al alto cielo. La blanca Nise no tomó a destajo de los pasados casos la memoria, y en la labor de su sutil trabajo no quiso entretejer antigua historia; antes mostrando de su claro Tajo en su labor la celebrada gloria, lo figuró en la parte donde él baña la más felice tierra de la España. Pintando el caudaloso río se vía, que, en áspera estrecheza reducido, un monte casi al rededor ceñia, con ímpetu corriendo y con ruïdo; querer cercallo todo parecía en su volver; mas era afán perdido; dejábase correr, en fin, derecho, contento de lo mucho que había hecho. Estaba puesta en la sublime cumbre del monte, y desde allí por él sembrada, aquella ilustre y clara pesadumbre, de antiguos edificios adornada. De allí con agradable mansedumbre [ 130 ]

185

190

195

200

205

210

It was apparent that this boy was Adonis79 by the way Venus was grieving. She, having seen the fierce gaping wound, was on top of him, almost dead. Mouth to mouth, she catches the last bit of air that once gave life to that body, for which she had scorned high heaven while on this earth. White Nise did not take up the task of remembering events past. As she labored over her subtle handiwork, she decided not to weave ancient history, preferring to display in her work instead the celebrated glory of her clear Tagus, depicting it where it bathes the most fortunate lands in Spain.80 In the painting,81 one could see that the mighty river, reduced to rocky narrows, almost completely encircled a mountain as it rushed and thundered about. It seemed to want to surround it completely, but that was a lost cause; it finally allowed itself to run straight on, satisfied with all it had done. Placed upon the mountain’s sublime peak, and scaered down its slopes, was that illustrious, clear, and weighty mass, adorned with ancient buildings. From there on, pleasantly calm, [ 131 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

180

One could then see the boar wounded by that young man, too brave for his own good, and the boy stretched out on the ground, his chest ripped open by the raging tusk, his locks of gold scaered, wretchedly dragging on the ground; the white roses growing there turned red by his blood.

el Tajo va siguiendo su jornada, y regando los campos y arboledas con artificio de las altas ruedas. En la hermosa tela se veían entretejidas las silvestres diosas salir de la espesura, y que venían todas a la ribera presurosas, en el semblante tristes, y traían cestillos blancos de purpúreas rosas, las cuales esparciendo, derramaban sobre una ninfa muerta que lloraban. Todas con el cabello desparcido lloraban una ninfa delicada, cuya vida mostraba que había sido antes de tiempo y casi en flor cortada; cerca del agua, en un lugar florido, estaba entre la hierba degollada, cual queda el blanco cisne cuando pierde la dulce vida entre la hierba verde. Una de aquellas diosas, que en belleza, al parecer, a todas ecedía, mostrando en el semblante la tristeza que del funesto y triste caso había, apartada algún tanto, en la corteza de un álamo unas letras escribía, como epitafio de la ninfa bella, que hablaban así por parte della: “Elisa soy, en cuyo nombre suena y se lamenta el monte cavernoso, testigo del dolor y grave pena en que por mí se aflige Nemoroso, y llama Elisa; Elisa a boca llena responde el Tajo, y lleva presuroso al mar de Lusitania el nombre mío, donde será escuchado, yo lo fío.”

[ 132 ]

220

225

230

235

240

the Tagus continues on its way, watering the fields and groves with the help of high waterwheels. One could see woven into the fabric sylvan goddesses, leaving the forest and hurrying along the riverbanks with long faces and carrying white baskets of purple roses, which they scaered and poured over a dead nymph whom they mourned. With disheveled hair, they all mourned a tender nymph, whose life had been cut short when it was just ready to bloom. In a flowery spot near the water, she lay amid the grass with her throat slit, much like a white swan when it loses its sweet life in the green grasses. One of those goddesses, whose beauty seemed to exceed that of all the rest, was showing sadness in her face in response to this sad and dire event, and as she stood to the side, she carved leers into the bark of a poplar as an epitaph for the lovely nymph, and these spoke on her behalf:

“I am Elisa,82 whose name makes the cavernous mountain echo and mourn, a witness to the pain and grief Nemoroso must suffer on my account. 245 He calls out, ‘Elisa,’ and ‘Elisa,’ the Tagus bellows in response, and hastily carries my name to the Lusitanian sea,83 where I trust it will be heard.”

[ 133 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

215

En fin, en esta tela artificiosa toda la historia estaba figurada, que en aquella ribera deleitosa de Nemoroso fue tan celebrada; porque de todo aquesto y cada cosa estaba Nise ya tan informada, que llorando el pastor, mil veces ella se enterneció escuchando su querella. Y porque aqueste lamentable cuento, no sólo entre las selvas se contase, mas, dentro de las ondas, sentimiento con la noticia de esto se mostrase, quiso que de su tela el argumento la bella ninfa muerta señalase, y así se publicase de uno en uno por el húmido reino de Netuno. Destas historias tales varïadas eran las telas de las cuatro hermanas, las cuales, con colores matizadas y claras luces de las sombras vanas, mostraban a los ojos relevadas las cosas y figuras que eran llanas; tanto que, al parecer, el cuerpo vano pudiera ser tomado con la mano. Los rayos ya del sol se trastornaban, escondiendo su luz, al mundo cara, tras altos montes, y a la luna daban lugar para mostrar su blanca cara; los peces a menudo ya saltaban, con la cola azotando el agua clara, cuando las ninfas, la labor dejando, hacia el agua se fueron paseando. En las templadas ondas ya metidos tenían los pies, y reclinar querían los blancos cuerpos, cuando sus oídos fueron de dos zampoñas que tañían süave y dulcemente, detenidos; [ 134 ]

255

260

265

270

In short, this artful tapestry depicted the entire story which on that pleasant riverbank had been so celebrated by Nemoroso; for Nise was so well informed about each detail of this maer that she too was moved to tears each time she heard the shepherd’s lament. And so that this dreadful tale not be told only among the woods, but also that the news would gain sympathy below the waves, she chose the beautiful dead nymph as the subject of her tapestry so that her story would pass om mouth to mouth in the damp kingdom of Neptune.84 Such are the various stories told in the tapestries of the four sisters, who, with blended colors and bright highlights, made the flat objects pop out of the shadows before one’s eyes, so much so that the empty body seemed within reach of one’s hand.

280

Now the rays of light were disappearing, hiding their light so dear to the world behind the tall mountains, and giving the moon a chance to show her white face; the fish were now jumping equently with their tails striking the clear water, as the nymphs le their work and set off walking toward the water.

285

ey had already slipped their feet into the warm waves and were about to recline their white bodies when they heard sounds of two pipes being played so smoothly and sweetly that they remained

275

[ 135 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

250

tanto, que sin mudarse las oían, y al son de las zampoñas escuchaban dos pastores, a veces, que cantaban. Más claro cada vez el son se oía de dos pastores, que venían cantando tras el ganado, que también venía por aquel verde soto caminando, y a la majada, ya pasado el día, recogido llevaban, alegrando las verdes selvas con el son süave, haciendo su trabajo menos grave. Tirreno destos dos el uno era, Alcino el otro, entrambos estimados, y sobre cuantos pacen la ribera del Tajo, con sus vacas, enseñados; mancebos de una edad, de una manera a cantar juntamente aparejados, y a responder, aquesto van diciendo, cantando el uno, el otro respondiendo. Tirreno Flérida, para mí dulce y sabrosa más que la uta del cercado ajeno, más blanca que la leche y más hermosa que el prado por abril, de flores lleno; si tú respondes pura y amorosa al verdadero amor de tu Tirreno, a mi majada arribarás, primero que el cielo nos amuestre su lucero. Alcino Hermosa Filis, siempre yo te sea amargo al gusto más que la retama, y de ti despojado yo me vea, cual queda el tronco de su verde rama, si más que yo el murciélago desea la escuridad, ni más luz desama, por ver ya el fin de un término tamaño deste día, para mí mayor que un año. [ 136 ]

290

295

300

Ever more clearly the melody was heard of two shepherds singing as they walked along behind their flock, which also came walking through that green thicket; with the day ended, they were bringing strays back to the fold, brightening the green woods with their sweet melody and making their work lighter. One of the two was Tirreno and Alcino the other, both well liked and beer skilled than all those who graze their cows along the banks of the Tagus. ey were youths of the same age and well matched to sing together. is is what they say, one singing, and the other responding: Tirreno

305

310

Flérida, sweeter and tastier to me than the uit om another’s orchard, whiter than milk, and preier than the meadow in April, full of flowers; if you respond pure and loving to the true love of your Tirreno, you will reach my shelter before the sky shows us its evening star. Alcino

315

320

Lovely Filis, may I ever be bierer to your taste than broom, and may I be stripped of you as a trunk is stripped of its green branch if the bat desires the darkness more than I, or more dislikes the light, wishing to see the end of this time longer than a day for me, longer than a year. [ 137 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

captivated, motionless, and in harmony with the pipes, they heard two shepherds taking turns singing.

Tirreno Cual suele acompañada de su bando aparecer la dulce primavera, cuando Favonio y Céfiro soplando, al campo tornan su beldad primera, y van artificiosos esmaltando de rojo, azul y blanco la ribera, en tal manera a mí, Flérida mía, viniendo, reverdece mi alegría. Alcino ¿Ves el furor del animoso viento, embravecido en la agosa sierra, que los antiguos robles ciento a ciento y los pinos altísimos atierra, y de tanto destrozo aún no contento, al espantoso mar mueve la guerra? Pequeña es esta furia, comparada a la de Filis, con Alcino airada. Tirreno El blanco trigo multiplica y crece, produce el campo en abundancia tierno pasto al ganado, el verde monte oece a las fieras salvajes su gobierno; a doquiera que miro me parece que derrama la copia todo el cuerno; mas todo se convertirá en abrojos si dello aparta Flérida sus ojos. Alcino De la esterilidad es oprimido el monte, el campo, el soto y el ganado; la malicia del aire corrompido hace morir la hierba mal su grado; las aves ven su descubierto nido, que ya de verdes hojas fue cercado; pero si Filis por aquí tornare, hará reverdecer cuanto mirare.

[ 138 ]

325

As sweet springtime tends to appear accompanied by its band, when Favonius and Zephyr,85 blowing, restore to the fields their former beauty and artfully enamel the banks with red, blue, and white: so, when my Flérida returns to me, my happiness comes to life again. Alcino

330

335

Do you see the brave wind’s fury, made wild in the rugged mountains where hundreds of oak trees take root and tall pine trees topple over, and how, still unsatisfied with so much havoc, it wages war on the fearsome sea? Small is this fury compared to that of Filis when angry with Alcino. Tirreno

340

e white wheat multiplies and grows, the field abundantly produces grass for the cale, the green woodland offers to the fierce beasts its protection; wherever I look, it seems that the horn of plenty is overflowing, but everything will turn to thistles if Flérida takes her eyes off it. Alcino

345

350

Sterility oppresses the mountain, the countryside, the meadow, and the herd; e malice of the corrupt air kills off the grass despite itself; the birds find their nests uncovered, which were formerly covered with green leaves: but if only Filis will return here, she will turn green everything she sees.

[ 139 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

Tirreno

Tirreno El álamo de Alcides escogido fue siempre, y el laurel del rojo Apolo; de la hermosa Venus fue tenido en precio y en estima el mirto solo; el verde sauz de Flérida es querido, y por suyo entre todos escogiólo; doquiera que de hoy más sauces se hallen, el álamo, el laurel y el mirto callen. Alcino El esno por la selva en hermosura sabemos ya que sobre todos vaya, y en aspereza y monte de espesura se aventaja la verde y alta haya, mas el que la beldad de tu figura dondequiera mirado, Filis, haya, al esno y a la haya en su aspereza confesará que vence tu belleza. Esto cantó Tirreno, y esto Alcino le respondió; y habiendo ya acabado el dulce son, siguieron su camino con paso un poco más apresurado. Siendo a las ninfas ya el rumor vecino, todas juntas se arrojan por el vado, y de la blanca espuma que movieron las cristalinas hondas se cubrieron.

[ 140 ]

355

360

e poplar was always chosen by Hercules, and the laurel by red Apollo; by the lovely Venus, only the myrtle was valued and esteemed. e green willow is loved by Flérida; of all the trees, she chose it as her own. From now on, wherever willows are most abundant, let the poplar, the laurel, and the myrtle be silent. Alcino

365

370

375

In the forest, the beauty of the ash tree, as we know, is superior to all others, and in the rough and thick woods, the tall, green beech is superior, but Filis, he who has seen the beauty of your figure will confess that your beauty conquers the roughness of the ash and the beech. us sang Tirreno, and thus Alcino answered him; and having finished their sweet song, they went on their way with a somewhat quickened step. Hearing the men nearby, the nymphs plunged below the surface, and the white foam that they stirred up covered the crystalline waves.

[ 141 ]

* Garcilaso de la Vega *

Tirreno

antónio ferreira (1528–1569)

António Ferreira is, along with Francisco de Sá de Miranda, perhaps the most celebrated Portuguese poet of the early sixteenth century. He was born in Lisbon into a noble family and went on to study law at the University of Coimbra. His time at Coimbra (roughly 1543–55) was central to his intellectual and personal development. Before taking an advanced degree in law and going on to serve as a high-ranking judge in Lisbon, Ferreira studied arts and began to produce a poetic corpus that would grow to over ten thousand verses. He was married twice, and he had two children before dying in one of Lisbon’s equent outbreaks of the plague. Ferreira stands apart om many Portuguese poets of the sixteenth century in that he does not seem to have composed poetry in Castilian, choosing rather to write consistently in Portuguese. A disciple of Francisco de Sá de Miranda, Ferreira demonstrated a marked interest in Italian lyric forms, as well as classical Greek and Latin literature, evidenced by his various sonnets, elegies, idylls, verse epistles, and odes. Ferreira is best known for his theatrical works, the most acclaimed of these being his tragedy A Castro (e Castro play), which was published posthumously in 1587. Like Garcia de Resende’s earlier Trovas que Garcia de Resende fez à morte de D. Inês de Castro (Verses that Garcia de Resende pronounced on the death of D. Inês de Castro), Ferreira’s play is based on the life and tragic death of the future Portuguese king Pedro I’s lover, Inês de Castro. It is generally considered to be the first tragedy composed in Portuguese, and it is wrien in unrhymed verses that alternate between six and ten syllables. Ferreira’s poems, which he managed to edit before his death, were published posthumously in Lisbon by his son Miguel Leite Ferreira in 1598. His plays were first published in 1621, together with those of Sá de Miranda. [ 143 ]

S’erra minh’alma, em contemplar-vos tanto S’erra minh’alma, em contemplar-vos tanto, e estes meus olhos tristes, em vos ver, s’erra meu amor grande, em não querer crer que outra cousa há hi de mor espanto, s’erra meu esprito, em levantar seu canto em vós, e em vosso nome só escrever, s’erra minha vida, em assi viver por vós continuamente em dor, e pranto, s’erra minha esperança, em se enganar já tantas vezes, e assi enganada tonar-se a seus enganos conhecidos, s’erra meu bom desejo, em confiar que algu˜’hora serão meus males cridos, vós em meus erros só sereis culpada.

Não Tejo, Douro, Zêzer, Minho, Odiana Não Tejo, Douro, Zêzer, Minho, Odiana, Mondego, Tua, Avia, Vouga, Neiva, e Lima, nem os que correm lá no Oriental clima Nilo, Indo, Gange, Euate, Hydaspe, e Tana; não pinho, faia, enzinho, ulmo, hera, ou cana, nem doce suspirar em prosa, ou rima o fogo apagarão, qu’em mim de cima do terceiro ceo cae, e dos olhos mana. Qu’o ceo outra vez s’abra, e o mundo alague, sopre de toda parte bravo vento, ardendo m’estará meu fogo em meo. E eu morrerei, porque se não apague; então de mor prazer, mor glória cheo, quanto mor parecer o meu tormento. [ 144 ]

If my soul errs in thinking so much of you, and these my sad eyes in seeing you; if my enormous love errs in not wishing to believe that there is anything more astounding; If my spirit errs in liing its song to you, and writing only in your name; If my life errs in living this way, continually for you, in pain, and lament, If my hope errs in fooling itself so many times, and so fooled, returns again to known tricks, If my honest desire errs in trusting that at some point my sufferings will be believed; you, for my errors, will be the only one to blame.

Neither the Tagus, Douro, Zêzere, Minho, Guadiana Neither the Tagus, Douro, Zêzere, Minho, Guadiana, Mondego, Tua, Ave, Vouga, Neiva, and Lima,86 nor those that run through the distant Orient: Nile, Indus, Ganges, Euphrates, Hydaspes,87 and Tana;88 Neither pine, beech, holm oak, elm, ivy, or cane, nor sweet sighs in prose or rhyme will quench the fire that falls upon me om the third sphere,89 and that flows om my eyes. Should heaven open up again and flood the world, should strong winds blow om every direction, this fire of mine will still burn within me. And I will die if it is not extinguished; Still, my torment is more pleasing to me and sublime the greater it seems. [ 145 ]

* António Ferreira *

If My Soul Errs in inking So Much of You

pero de andrade caminha (1520?–1589)

Born in Porto around 1520 to a family of Galician origin, Pero de Andrade Caminha served while a young man as an aendant to Duarte, the Duke of Guimarães and grandson of King Manuel I. He would later go on to serve the dukes of Bragança in Vila Viçosa. He also served in the court of King João III and went on to become a knight in the Portuguese Order of Christ. Part of King Sebastião’s ill-fated 1578 expedition to Morocco, Caminha returned to Portugal to serve as a diplomat and finally as magistrate in Vila Viçosa. Composing poems in both Castilian and Portuguese, he was well respected as a court poet and remained in the service of the House of Bragança until at least five years before his death in 1589. Caminha is believed to have been an open rival (if not simply an enemy) of Luís de Camões. He also testified against Portuguese humanist Damião de Góis during the laer’s trial before the Portuguese Inquisition, a fact that has done lile to endear him to students of Portuguese history and culture. Beyond the negative, Caminha also seems to have been a iend of Francisco de Sá de Miranda, António Ferreira, and Jorge de Montemayor (Montemor) during the time that Montemayor lived in Lisbon (1552 to 1554) and served as an aendant to Princess Juana. Caminha’s work at various noble courts allowed him to devote himself extensively to poetic composition. He composed numerous glosses, cantigas, and vilancetes, and is the Portuguese poet most represented in the Cancioneiro de Elvas (Songbook of Elvas), one of the most important sources for sixteenth-century popular music in the Iberian Peninsula. His devotion to Italian and classical poetry is evidenced in the roughly five hundred

[ 146 ]

poems contained in his Poesias inéditas (Unpublished poems), which was first published posthumously in 1791 by the Royal Academy of Sciences in Lisbon. In 1898, Joseph Priebsch would publish in Halle an even more extensive edition of Caminha’s verse titled Poesias inéditas de P. de Andrade Caminha (Unpublished poems by P. de Andrade Caminha).

[ 147 ]

Eu cantarei de amor tão novamente Eu cantarei de amor tão novamente, se me ouve aquela de quem sempre canto, que de mim dor e mágoa, e dela espanto terá a mais fera, inculta e dura gente.

E ela que assi tão crua e indinamente dura aos meus choros é, surda ao meu canto, algu˜a parte crerá (se não for tanto como eu desejo) do que est’alma sente. Mas como esperarei achar piedade de mim nem em mim mesmo, se ela nega (não peço brandos já) duros ouvidos? Se nega um volver de olhos, com que cega a luz e dá ao escuro claridade, como serão meus danos nunca cridos?

É minha ventura tal cantiga de luís álvares de pereira com glossa É minha ventura tal que no mor contentamento me vem sempre ao pensamento não ter remédio meu mal. Glossa Depois que tenho um cuidado que m’entristece e m’engana, ando com ele tão pesado que de mim todo enfadado folgo com que mais me dana. Não há remédio que possa valer-me á dor desigual: vós o causais e não al! [ 148 ]

5

I would sing of love in so esh a way,90 if she of whom I always sing would but hear me, that the most savage, rude, and hardened people will feel pain and suffering for me and for her, astonishment. She who is so cruelly and indignantly unbending to my cries, and deaf to my song, would believe at least some part (if it is not as much as I desire) of what this soul feels.

10

15

But how can I hope to find pity for me outside of myself, if she denies me (I no longer ask for gentle ones) even hardened ears? If she withholds even the glance with which she blinds the light and gives clarity to darkness, how will my injuries ever be believed?

My Fortune Is Such cantiga by luís álvares de pereira with gloss My fortune is such [that] in the moment of greatest contentment it always comes to my mind that there is no remedy for my unhappiness. Gloss 5

10

When I have some thought that saddens and betrays me, it weighs so heavily on me that I begin to despise myself and find joy in what does me the most harm. ere is no remedy that might save me om such unmeasured pain: you and nothing else are the cause of it! [ 149 ]

* Pero de Andrade Caminha *

I Would Sing of Love in So Fresh a Way

E, desque esta culpa é vossa, é minha ventura tal. As vezes se me figura, (ainda qu’é contra o que vejo) Senhora, em vós uma brandura que me faz crer que a ventura conformorá com desejo. Mas de ver qu’isto s’ordena para maior sentimento, e qu’é bem d’um só momento: não sinto em nada mor pena que no mor contentamento. Trago assi a alma perdida entr’estes falsos enganos, de que deveis ser servida por m’ir sustentando a vida para muito mores danos. Não vos merece isto assi quem não teme movimento contra um firme fundamento; mas o qu’é mais contra mim me vem sempre ao pensamento. Este cuidado é contino; e eu este busco, este quero, neste contente imagino de qu’espero um desatino com que passe o mal qu’espero. Pode-se isto ter por riso! Mas meu dano é sem igual, nem m’atrevo (e ainda não val) a soer, senão sem siso, não ter remédio meu mal.

[ 150 ]

15

20

25

30

35

40

Sometimes there seems to me (although it flies in the face of what I see), Lady, a soness in you that makes me believe that my fortune might conform to my desire. But I see that this is designed only to generate greater feeling, and that it is nothing but a momentary pleasure: so I feel no greater pain in anything than in the moment of greatest contentment. I carry with me my soul, lost among these false betrayals, about which you must be quite happy since they keep me alive to feel even greater pain. He doesn’t deserve this om you who fears no movement against a firm foundation; but what is most against me always comes to my mind. is worry is continuous; and I look for this, I want this, and in this I happily imagine that I wait for some derangement that brings with it the misfortune that I expect. is might be cause for laughter! But my suffering is unequaled, and so I don’t dare (nor would it help) to suffer, if not in madness, that there is no remedy for my unhappiness.

[ 151 ]

* Pero de Andrade Caminha *

And, since the blame is yours, my fortune is such.

fray luis de león (1527–1591)

Luis de León was born in Belmonte (Cuenca, Castile) to Lope Ponce de León and Inés de Valera, both of Jewish ancestry. His father’s job as a lawyer allowed the family to live in several cities. Eventually Luis seled in Salamanca, where he took his vows in the Augustinian convent of San Pedro and earned a degree in theology. Proficient in Greek, Hebrew, and Latin, he came to serve as a professor and vice rector of the Augustinian College of San Guillermo in Salamanca. Despite (or because of ) his academic accolades, he was jailed by the Inquisition in 1572 for his supposedly heretical writings. Aer five years in jail, and in ail health, he was released, and he resumed teaching and publishing until his death in Madrigal de las Altas Torres. Fray Luis de León is perhaps best known for his edition of Santa Teresa de Ávila’s works, his biblical commentaries on the book of Job and Proverbs, and his translations of Greek, Latin, and biblical texts. His original poetry, on the other hand, is a bit more contentious. During his lifetime, Fray Luis de León’s poetry circulated in manuscript form, and it was not until 1631 that Francisco de Quevedo first edited an anthology of his poetry. It is questionable whether the theologian wrote all the poems found in Quevedo’s edition. e controversy surrounding Fray Luis’s poetry continues to this day, and for this reason most modern editions of his poetry include poems that are indisputably wrien by the poet (two of which are reproduced here) and others whose authorship is dubious.

[ 153 ]

Folgaba el Rey Rodrigo profecía del tajo Folgaba el Rey Rodrigo con la hermosa Cava en la ribera del Tajo, sin testigo; el pecho sacó fuera el río, y le habló desta manera: “En mal punto te goces, injusto forzador; que ya el sonido y las amargas voces, y ya siento el bramido de Marte, de furor y ardor ceñido. “Aquesta tu alegría, ¡qué llantos acarrea! Aquesa hermosa, que vio el sol en mal día, al Godo, ¡ay, cuán llorosa! Al soberano cetro, ¡ay! cuán costosa. “Llamas, dolores, guerras, muertes, asolamientos, fieros males entre tus brazos cierras, trabajos inmortales a ti y a tus vasallos naturales; “a los que en Constantina rompen el fértil suelo, a los que baña el Ebro, a la vecina Sansueña, a Lusitaña: a toda la espaciosa y triste España. “Ya dende Cádiz llama el injuriado Conde, a la venganza atento y no a la fama, la bárbara pujanza, en quien para tu daño hay tardanza.

[ 154 ]

prophecy of the tagus

5

King Roderick was having his way with the beautiful Cava on the banks91 of the Tagus, all alone; the river swelled its chest, and spoke to him as follows:

“May you find pleasure in hell, lawless defiler, for I already hear the sound and the bier shouts, the weapons, and the roaring 10 of the furious and feverish Mars.92 “How much weeping is caused by this happiness of yours! How much sorrow does that beauty, born on a fateful day, cause the Goth, and, alas, how costly 15 is she to his sovereign scepter! “Flames, agony, wars, deaths, devastation, fierce ills are what you hold in your arms, along with everlasting work 20 for you and your natural vassals; “For those who in Constantine plow the fertile land, for those who bathe in the Ebro, for nearby Sansueña, for Lusitania, 25 for the whole of spacious and sad Hispania. “Already om Cádiz, the assailed count, intent upon vengeance instead of his reputation, calls upon his brute force, 30 which, unfortunately for you, will not be delayed.

[ 155 ]

* Fray Luis de León *

King Roderick Was Having His Way

“Oye que al cielo toca con temeroso con la trompa fiera, que en Áica convoca el moro a la bandera que, al aire desplegada, va ligera. “La lanza ya blandea el árabe crüel, y hiere el viento, llamando a la pelea; innumerable cuento de escuadras juntas veo en un momento. “Cubre la gente el suelo; debajo de las velas desaparece la mar; la voz al cielo confusa, incierta, crece; el polvo roba el día y le oscurece. “¡Ay!, que ya presurosos suben las largas naves. ¡Ay!, que tienden los brazos vigorosos a los remos, y encienden las mares espumosas por do hienden. “El Eolo derecho hinche la vela en popa, y larga entrada por el hercúleo estrecho, con la punta acerada, el gran padre Neptuno da a la armada. “¡Ay, triste! ¿Y aun te tiene el mal dulce regazo? ¿Ni llamado al mal que sobreviene, no acorres? ¿Abrazado con tu calamidad no ves tu hado? “Acude, acorre, vuela, traspasa la alta sierra, ocupa el llano; no perdones la espuela, no des paz a la mano, menea fulminando el hierro insano. [ 156 ]

“e cruel Arab already is wielding his spear and clashes with the wind as he calls to bale; I see an innumerable sum 40 of squadrons gathered in one moment. “People cover the ground; the sea disappears beneath the sails; the noise rises, confused, vague, to the heavens; 45 the dust robs the day and turns it dark. “Alas! ey already are boarding their long ships. Alas! ey stretch out their powerful arms to the oars and burn 50 the foamy seas they slice through. “Straight-blowing Aeolus93 billows the sails om astern, and with his sharpened trident, the great father Neptune grants passage 55 to the fleet through the Straits of Hercules. “Alas, doomed man! Does that bad yet sweet lap still hold you? Do you not come running when summoned by oncoming disaster? Embraced 60 by your misfortune, do you not see your fate? “Come, run, fly, pass through the tall mountain, dwell in the plain, spare not the spur, do not let your hand rest, 65 let the mad iron rage. [ 157 ]

* Fray Luis de León *

“Listen as the fierce trumpet touches the heavens with fearful sound; in Aica it calls the Muslim to the flag 35 that flies eely, unfurled in the breeze.

“¡Ay!, ¡cuánto de fatiga! ¡Ay!, ¡cuánto de sudor está presente al que viste loriga, al infante valiente, a hombres y a caballos juntamente! “¡Y tú, Betis divino, de sangre ajena y tuya amancillado, darás al mar vecino cuánto yelmo quebrado, cuánto cuerpo de nobles destrozado! “El furibundo Marte cinco luces las haces desordena, igual a cada parte; la sexta, ¡ay!, te condena, ¡oh, cara patria! a bárbara cadena.”

Cuando contemplo el cielo noche serena Cuando contemplo el cielo de innumerables luces adornado, y miro hacia el suelo, de noche rodeado, en sueño y en olvido sepultado, el amor y la pena despiertan en mi pecho un ansia ardiente; despiden larga vena los ojos hechos fuente; la lengua dice al fin con voz doliente: “Morada de grandeza, templo de claridad y hermosura: mi alma que a tu alteza nació, ¿qué desventura la tiene en esta cárcel baja, escura?

[ 158 ]

“And you, divine Betis,94 stained by others’ blood and your own, how many broken helmets will you hand over to the sea! 75 How many crushed noblemen’s bodies! “For five days, enraged Mars95 breaks up the ranks evenly on each side; but alas, on the sixth he condemns you, 80 my dear homeland, to barbarous chains.”

When I Contemplate the Heavens serene night

5

10

When I contemplate the heavens adorned with countless lights and I look toward the ground, surrounded by night, buried in sleep and oblivion, love and grief awaken in my chest an ardent longing; my eyes, transformed into a spring, gush an abundant stream; my tongue finally says, with a painful voice:

“Dwelling of grandeur, temple of clarity and beauty: my soul that was born for your heights, what misfortune 15 holds it in this lowly, dark prison?

[ 159 ]

* Fray Luis de León *

“Alas! How much weariness! Alas! How much sweat drips om the one wearing the breastplate, om the courageous prince, 70 om both horses and men!

“¿Qué mortal desatino de la verdad aleja ansí el sentido, que de tu bien divino olvidado, perdido, sigue la vana sombra, el bien fingido? “El hombre está entregado al sueño, de su suerte no cuidando; y con paso callado el cielo, vueltas dando, las horas del vivir le va hurtando. “¡Ay!, ¡despertad, mortales! Mirad con atención en vuestro daño. Las almas inmortales, hechas a bien tamaño, ¿podrán vivir de sombra y sólo engaño? “¡Ay!, levantad los ojos a aquesta celestial eterna esfera: burlaréis los antojos de aquesa lisonjera vida, con cuanto teme y cuanto espera. “¿Es más que un breve punto el bajo y torpe suelo, comparado a aqueste gran trasunto, do vive mejorado lo que es, lo que será, lo que ha pasado? “Quien mira el gran concierto de aquestos resplandores eternales, su movimiento cierto, sus pasos desiguales, y en proporción concorde tan iguales: “la luna cómo mueve la plateada rueda, y va en pos de ella la luz do el saber llueve, y la graciosa estrella de Amor la sigue reluciente y bella; [ 160 ]

“Man surrenders himself to sleep, ignoring his destiny; and with silent steps, the heavens, spinning in circles, 25 steal his hours of life. “Oh! Awaken, mortals! Pay aention to your undoing. Can immortal souls, created for such good, 30 live on shadows and falsity alone? “Oh! Li up your eyes to this eternal, celestial sphere: you will thus evade the whims of this seductive life, 35 along with all it fears and for which it hopes. “Is the low and clumsy earth more than a brief point when compared to this great image [of God] where in a beer state lives 40 what is, what will be, and what has been? “He who looks upon the great concert of eternal brightness, its fixed movement, its unequal footsteps, 45 yet so equal in harmonious proportion: “how the moon moves its silver wheel, and behind her follows the light where wisdom rains, and the graceful star 50 of Love follows it shining and beautiful; [ 161 ]

* Fray Luis de León *

“What mortal blunder so separates my senses om the truth that, lost and forgetful of your divine good, 20 it follows empty shadows and false good?

“y cómo otro camino prosigue el sanguinoso Marte airado, y el Júpiter benino, de bienes mil cercado, serena el cielo con su rayo amado; “rodéase en la cumbre Saturno, padre de los siglos de oro; tras dél la muchedumbre del reluciente coro su luz va repartiendo y su tesoro: “¿quién es el que esto mira y precia la bajeza de la tierra, y no gime y suspira y rompe lo que encierra el alma y de estos bienes la destierra? “Aquí vive el contento, aquí reina la paz; aquí, asentado en rico y alto asiento, está el Amor sagrado, de glorias y deleites rodeado. “Inmensa hermosura aquí se muestra toda, y resplandece clarísima luz pura, que jamás anochece; eterna primavera aquí florece. “¡Oh, campos verdaderos! ¡Oh, prados con verdad dulces y amenos! ¡Riquísimos mineros! ¡Oh, deleitosos senos! ¡Repuestos valles, de mil bienes llenos!”

[ 162 ]

“At the peak revolves Saturn,98 the father of the golden ages; behind him, the throng of gleaming singers 60 disperse their light and treasure: “who is the one who can look at this and still revere the baseness of the earth and not groan and sigh and break what traps 65 the soul and banishes it om these blessings? “Here lives contentment, here reigns peace; here, seated on a rich and high seat, is sacred Love 70 surrounded by glory and delight. “Immense beauty is here fully revealed, and here shines the clearest, purest light, which never turns to night; 75 eternal spring here flourishes. “Oh true fields! Oh meadows sweet and pleasant with truth! e richest of mines! Oh delightful hollows! 80 Hidden valleys, full of countless blessings!”

[ 163 ]

* Fray Luis de León *

“and how bloodthirsty, angry Mars96 follows another path, and benign Jupiter,97 surrounded by many blessings, 55 calms the heavens with his beloved rays.

luisa sigea de velasco (1522?–1560)

Known as “Docta Sygaea” and “virgo admirabilis,” Luisa Sigea was, during her life, one of the most renowned female humanists in the Iberian Peninsula. Her father, Diego Sigeo, was also a respected intellectual. Prior to becoming one of María Pacheco de Padilla’s preceptors in Toledo, he had studied under famous humanists like Antonio de Nebrija and Diego López de Zúñiga at the University of Alcalá. He gave his four children a classical education, but it was Luisa who became known for her learning. Following in her father’s footsteps, she became the Latin preceptor at the court of Princess María of Portugal. When she married Francisco de las Cuevas in 1555, she le Portugal for Burgos, where she petitioned to become a member of Philip II’s court. Although the king never granted Sigea her request, her talents did not go unnoticed. Alfonso Fernández de Madrid, the archdeacon of Alcor, praised her knowledge of philosophy, oratory, and poetry, and Pope Paul III was astonished when he received a leer om the young woman penned in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, and Aramaic. While Sigea was a polyglot, her most celebrated works are those wrien in Latin; they include the elegiac poem Sintra (Sintra) and the Ciceronian dialogue Duarum virginum colloquium de vita aulica et privata (Dialogue between two young women on courtly and private life). Aer her death in 1560, Sigea continued to occupy a prominent place in Iberian leers. Around 1660 Nicholas Chorier wrote the bawdy work Aloisiae Sigae Toletanae satyra Sotadica de arcanis amoris et Veneris sive Joannis Meursii elegantiae Latini sermonis (Luisa Sigea of Toledo: Sotadic satire on the secrets of love and Venus: or, Elegances of Latin discourse of Joannes Meursius), and in 1853 the popular Romantic writer Carolina Coronado published La Sigea, a novel based on her life.

[ 165 ]

Un fin, una esperanza, un cómo, un cuándo octavas de la señora luisa sigea de velasco declarando: habui menses vacuos et noctes laboriosas, et numeravi mihi (job) Un fin, una esperanza, un cómo o cuándo; tras sí traen mi derecho verdadero; los meses y los años voy pasando en vano, y paso yo tras lo que espero; estoy fuera de mí, y estoy mirando si excede la natura lo que quiero; y así las tristes noches velo y cuento, mas no puedo contar lo que más siento. En vano se me pasa cualquier punto, mas no pierdo yo punto en el sentillo; con mi sentido hablo y le pregunto si puede haber razón para suillo; respóndeme: sí puede, aunque difunto; lo que entiendo de aquél no sé decillo, pues no falta razón ni buena suerte, pero falta en el mundo conocerte. En esto no hay respuesta, ni se alcanza razón para dejar de fatigarme, y pues tan mal responde mi esperanza justo es que yo responda con callarme; fortuna contra mí enristó la lanza y el medio me fuyó para estorbarme el poder llegar yo al fin que espero, y así me hace seguir lo que no quiero. Por sóla esta ocasión atrás me quedo, y estando tan propincuo el descontento, las tristes noches cuento, y nunca puedo hallar cuento en el mal que en ella cuento; ya de mí propia en esto tengo miedo por lo que me amenaza el pensamiento; mas pase así la vida, y pase presto, pues no puede haber fin mi presupuesto. [ 166 ]

octavas by señora luisa sigea de velasco declaring: “so am i made to possess months of misery, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.” (job)

5

10

15

20

25

30

An end, a hope, a how or a when; they bring behind them what is rightfully mine; I spend months and years in vain, and I follow behind that for which I hope; I am beside myself, and I am looking to see if what I want exceeds nature; and thus, I stay awake and count the sad nights, but I cannot recount what I most feel. In vain each opportunity passes me by, but I do not fail to mourn this loss; I speak with my senses and ask if there could be a justification for such suffering; they respond: it is possible, although dead; what I understand of this, I do not know how to express, not because of a lack of reason or fortune, but rather, because of not knowing you in the world. In this, there is no answer; not even reason enough to end my vexation, and since my hope responds so poorly, it is fair that I respond by remaining silent; fortune wielded its spear against me, and the means fled me so as to impede me om being able to reach the end for which I hope, and so it compels me to follow that which I do not desire. Because of this situation I remain behind, and unhappiness being so close, I count the sad nights; I can never reach an accounting of the sufferings I encounter there; in this, I already fear myself because of how my thoughts threaten me; but let life pass by thus, and let it pass quickly, for there can be no end to my wanting. [ 167 ]

* Luisa Sigea de Velasco *

An End, a Hope, a How, or a When

fernando de herrera (1534–1598)

e lile we know about Fernando de Herrera comes om Francisco Pacheco’s Libro de retratos (Book of portraits), where he is described in tandem with his portrait. Born in Seville in 1534, Herrera most likely had a humanistic education, as is evidenced by his impressive command of languages, history, math, and geography. Keenly devoted to his studies and poetry and reserved in character, Herrera was close iends with various other influential writers and artists of his time. e iendship that seems to have made the largest impact on Herrera’s poetic work is the one he maintained with the Count of Gelves, don Álvaro Colón y Portugal (1532–81), and his wife, doña Leonor de Milán de Córdoba y Aragón (1534?–81?), on whose estate he spent many aernoons composing and reciting poetry. Cervantes speaks highly of Herrera in Canto de Calíope (Song of Calliope) as well as Viaje al Parnaso (Journey to Parnassus), and Lope de Vega praises him in Laurel de Apolo (Apollo’s laurel). Despite these iendships, no one knows where he was buried or what happened to many of his works that were ready to go to press when he died in 1597. In 1574, Francisco Sánchez de las Brozas (beer known as El Brocense) published in Salamanca his Obras del excelente poeta Garcilaso de la Vega, con anotaciones y enmiendas del licenciado Francisco Sánchez (Works by the excellent poet Garcilaso de la Vega, with annotations and emendations by the learned Francisco Sánchez). Herrera’s famous revision of this text would see many editions, the first of which was published in 1580 under the title Obras de Garcilaso de la Vega con anotaciones de Fernando de Herrera (Works by Garcilaso de la Vega, with annotations by Fernando de Herrera).

[ 169 ]

Voy siguiendo la fuerza de mi hado Voy siguiendo la fuerza de mi hado por este campo estéril y escondido: todo calla, y no cesa mi gemido, y lloro la desdicha de mi estado. Crece el camino y crece mi cuidado, que nunca mi dolor pone en olvido: el curso al fin acaba, aunque extendido, pero no acaba el daño dilatado. ¿Qué vale contra un mal siempre presente apartarse y hüir, si en la memoria se estampa y muestra escas las señales? Vuela amor en mi alcance; y no consiente en mi aenta que olvide aquella historia que descubrió la senda de mis males.

Roxo Sol que con hacha luminosa Roxo Sol que con hacha luminosa cobras el purpúreo alto cielo, ¿hallaste tal belleza en todo el suelo, qu’iguale a mi serena Luz dichosa? Aura süave, blanda i amorosa que nos halagas con tu esco vuelo; cuando se cubre del dorado velo mi luz, ¿tocaste trença más hermosa? Luna, onor de la noche, ilustre coro de las errantes lumbres i fixadas ¿consideraste tales dos estrellas? Sol puro, Aura, Luna, llamas d’oro ¿oísteis mis penas nunca usadas? ¿vistes Luz más ingrata a mis querellas? [ 170 ]

I follow the force of my fate through this sterile and hidden field: everything becomes silent, while my cries do not cease. I cry over the misery of my condition. e road extends onward while my suffering grows, the pain of which never lets me forget. e course, although it is long, finally ends but my suffering does not. What good is it against an ever-present evil to try to run away if within one’s memory it is stamped and shows itself through esh signs? Love flies within my reach, but it does not consent, in my shame, that I should forget the story that revealed the path of my suffering.

Red Sun at with Your Luminous Ax Red sun that with your luminous ax colors the high purple heaven, have you found beauty in all the earth that equals my serene happy light? So, tender, and amorous aura that flaers us with your esh flight; when my light covers herself in the golden veil, have you ever touched a more beautiful braid? Moon, honor of the night, illustrious chorus of the wandering and fixed stars, have you ever considered two stars such as these? Pure sun, aura, moon, flames of gold, have you heard my never-worn pains? Have you seen a light more ungrateful to my complaints? [ 171 ]

* Fernando de Herrera *

I Follow the Force of My Fate

francisco de aldana (1537?–1578)

Aldana’s family was om Alcántara, Extremadura; however, as the son of a garrison captain stationed in Naples, he was likely born in that city, around the year 1537. He spent his early youth studying classical literature, languages, and philosophy in Florence, but at the age of fieen he decided to commit himself to a military career. He quickly rose to the rank of general, and he served with great valor in Flanders and elsewhere. Back in Castile, King Felipe II, to whom Aldana would become a trusted counselor, appointed him chief magistrate of the Castle of San Sebastián (Cádiz). It was Felipe II, in fact, who asked Aldana to assist Portuguese king Sebastião (1554–78) in the laer’s invasion of Morocco in the summer of 1578, an ill-fated expedition that would lead to the death of both King Sebastião and Aldana (among many others) in the Bale of Alcácer Quibir. As a poet, Aldana was much respected by his contemporaries. Miguel de Cervantes praises him in his Galatea (Galatea), and Francisco de Quevedo went so far as to aempt to publish an edition of his poetry in the seventeenth century. During his lifetime, Aldana managed to write a significant number of sonnets, verse epistles (of which the Epístola a Arias Montano sobre la contemplación de Dios y los requisitos della [Leer to Arias Montano on the contemplation of God and its requirements] and the Carta poética a Galiano [Poetic leer to Galiano] stand out). Aer Aldana’s death, his brother Cosme produced a two-volume edition of what he could gather of Aldana’s poetry (Milan, 1589 and Madrid, 1591). Aldana’s poetry is deeply contemplative, and much of it shows a thorough commitment to and understanding of Renaissance Neoplatonism. A significant number of his poems, especially the verse epistles, deal with his profound disillusionment with war and his military career. His most fa-

[ 172 ]

mous poem is likely the devotional Epístola a Arias Montano (Leer to Arias Montano), although his “Cuál es la causa, mi Damón, que estando” ‘Why is it so, my Damón, that while we’re,’ a dialogue between two lovers (Filis and Damón) that revolves around their desire to unite their souls along with their bodies, has also received increased praise and critical aention over the past century.

[ 173 ]

Mil veces callo que romper deseo Mil veces callo que romper deseo el cielo a gritos, y otras tantas tiento dar a mi lengua voz y movimiento, que en silencio mortal yacer la veo; anda cual velocísimo correo por dentro al alma el suelto pensamiento con alto y de dolor lloroso acento, casi en sombra de muerte un nuevo Orfeo. No halla la memoria o la esperanza rastro de imagen dulce y deleitable con que la voluntad viva segura. Cuanto en mí hallo es maldición que alcanza, muerte que tarda, llanto inconsolable, desdén del Cielo, error de la ventura.

Cuál es la causa, mi Damón, que estando “¿Cuál es la causa, mi Damón, que estando en la lucha de amor juntos trabados con lenguas, brazos, pies y encadenados cual vid que entre el jazmín se va enredando y que el vital aliento ambos tomando en nuestros labios, de chupar cansados, en medio a tanto bien somos forzados llorar y suspirar de cuando en cuando?” “Amor, mi Filis bella, que allá dentro nuestras almas juntó, quiere en su agua los cuerpos ajuntar también tan fuerte “que no pudiendo, como esponja el agua, pasar del alma al dulce amado centro, llora el velo mortal su avara suerte.” [ 174 ]

A thousand times I remain silent when I want to smash the heavens with my screams; at other times I try to give my tongue voice and movement only to find it inert in mortal silence. My unrestrained thoughts run inward like the swiest of couriers to my soul, with an intense and dolefully tearful tone, like a new Orpheus stealing into death’s shadows.99 Neither my memory nor my hope can find any trace of sweet or pleasing images through which my will might safely live. All that I find in me are plentiful curses, a long overdue death, inconsolable tears, the disdain of heaven, fortune’s error.

Why Is It So, My Damón, at While We’re “Why is it so, my Damón, that while we’re joined together in love’s struggle with our tongues and arms and feet, enchained like a grapevine that winds its way through jasmine, “and while both of us take in the breath of life through our lips worn out om sucking, in the middle of such joy we are compelled to moan and sigh out loud om time to time?” “Love, my beautiful Filis, who there within joined our souls, desires in his forge to conjoin our bodies with such force “that the mortal veil, unable to pass into the sweet beloved center—as water does with a sponge—sobs over its sad fate.” [ 175 ]

* Francisco de Aldana *

A ousand Times I Remain Silent When I Want

san juan de la cruz (1542–1591)

San Juan de la Cruz was born Juan de Yepes Álvarez, the second son of a modest Jewish converso family of weavers. His father died when he was very young (possibly of malnutrition), and his mother moved with her two sons first to Arévalo and then to Medina del Campo. Although they lived in poverty, Juan, the first of his family to become literate, began study in a Jesuit school and financed his education by working as an assistant at the Hospital de Nuestra Señora de la Concepción de Medina, which specialized in the healing of contagious venereal diseases. At the age of twenty-one, he turned down an offer to become the administrator of the hospital and chose instead to be ordained as a priest, joining the Carmelite fathers of Medina. He changed his name to Juan de Santo Matías and moved to Salamanca. While in Salamanca, the young Juan de Santo Matías studied theology for a year but abandoned his studies in order to join Teresa of Ávila in her push for ecclesiastical reform. Aer holding many key positions in Valladolid, Mancera, and Alcalá de Henares, he was detained and jailed for three years due to his involvement in this reform effort. Aer secretly escaping om prison, he held various other church positions. While facing exile in Mexico, he fell ill and died shortly aerward. A celebrated, if not particularly prolific, poet and central figure of Castilian mysticism during the early modern period, San Juan de la Cruz is best known for three mystical poems: “Cántico espiritual” (Spiritual canticle), “En una noche oscura” (On a dark night), and “Oh, llama de amor viva” (Oh, flame of undying love). In addition to being influenced by biblical sources, his poetry draws upon the Neoplatonic tradition that was prevalent in much of Europe at the time.

[ 177 ]

En una noche oscura En una noche oscura, con ansias en amores inflamada, ¡oh dichosa ventura! salí sin ser notada, estando ya mi casa sosegada. A oscuras y segura, por la secreta escala disazada, ¡oh dichosa ventura! a oscuras y en celada, estando ya mi casa sosegada. En la noche dichosa, en secreto, que nadie me veía, ni yo miraba cosa, sin otra luz y guía sino la que en el corazón ardía. Aquésta me guïaba más cierta que la luz del mediodía, adonde me esperaba quien yo bien me sabía, en parte donde nadie parecía. ¡Oh noche que me guiaste!, ¡oh noche amable más que la alborada!, ¡oh noche que juntaste amado con amada, amada en el amado transformada! En mi pecho florido, que entero para él solo se guardaba, allí quedó dormido, y yo le regalaba, y el ventalle de cedros aire daba. El aire de la almena, cuando yo sus cabellos esparcía, [ 178 ]

5

On a dark night, inflamed by pangs of love— oh happy fortune!— I le without being noticed, my house being already at rest.

10

Secure in the dark, by the secret disguised ladder— oh happy fortune!— in the dark and hidden, my house being already at rest.

15

On the happy night, in secret, no one saw me, nor did I see anything, with no other light or guide than that which burned in my heart.

20

is light guided me more certainly than the light of midday, to where someone I knew very well waited for me, in a place where no one else was present.

25

Oh night that guided me! Oh night more iendly than the dawn! Oh night that joined lover with his beloved, beloved in lover transformed!

30

And on my flowery breast, which saved all of itself for him alone, he rested in sleep, and I caressed him; and the fan of cedars moved the air. e air of the ramparts, as I spread out his hair, [ 179 ]

* San Juan de la Cruz *

On a Dark Night

con su mano serena en mi cuello hería, y todos mis sentidos suspendía. Quedéme y olvidéme, el rostro recliné sobre el amado, cesó todo, y dejéme, dejando mi cuidado entre las azucenas olvidado.

Oh, llama de amor viva ¡Oh, llama de amor viva que tiernamente hieres de mi alma en el más profundo centro! Pues ya no eres esquiva acaba ya si quieres, rompe la tela de este dulce encuentro. ¡Oh, cautiverio süave! ¡Oh, regalada llaga! ¡Oh, mano blanda! ¡Oh, toque delicado que a vida eterna sabe y toda deuda paga! Matando, muerte en vida la has trocado. ¡Oh, lámparas de fuego, en cuyos resplandores las profundas cavernas del sentido, que estaba oscuro y ciego, con extraños primores calor y luz dan junto a su querido! ¡Cuán manso y amoroso recuerdas en mi seno donde secretamente solo moras, y en tu aspirar sabroso de bien y gloria lleno, cuán delicadamente me enamoras!

[ 180 ]

40

I remained there and forgot myself, I rested my face against my beloved, everything ceased, and I le myself, leaving my care forgoen among the lilies.

Oh, Flame of Undying Love

5

10

15

20

Oh, flame of undying love, that soly wounds my soul at its deepest center! Since you no longer avoid me, end it now if you wish; snap the thread of this sweet encounter! Oh, so captivity! Oh, welcome wound! Oh, gentle hand! Oh, delicate touch that tastes of eternal life and pays all debts! In killing me, you convert death into life. Oh, lamps of fire, in whose light the deep caverns of the senses, senses that were once obscure and blind, now with rare delight give off heat and light next to their beloved! How gentle and loving are you remembered in my breast, where you alone secretly reside; and with your sweet breath, filled with goodness and glory, how delicately you make me love you!

[ 181 ]

* San Juan de la Cruz *

35

with its serene hand wounded my neck, and suspended all my senses.

santa teresa de ávila (1515–1582)

Teresa Sánchez de Cepeda y Ahumada was the daughter of don Alonso Sánchez de Cepeda, a Jewish converso om Toledo, and doña Beatriz de Ahumada. As a child, Teresa avidly read the lives of saints and tales of chivalry; these reading sessions apparently went so far as to compel her and her brother to aempt to run off to Muslim lands to be martyred. Teresa’s father instead sent her to Ávila’s Augustinian convent of Santa María de Gracia, but she was forced to leave due to illness. In 1535 she joined the Carmelite Convento de la Incarnación, also in Ávila. ere she continued to bale with illness, but through a steady practice of prayer and meditation claimed to have achieved a union with God. roughout the second half of her life, Teresa initiated a wave of reform and founded several convents throughout the Iberian Peninsula. She continued having visions, ecstasies, and raptures. Facing illness and hierarchical opposition, she cofounded the order of the Barefoot Carmelites (Carmelitas Descalzas) along with San Juan de la Cruz in 1562. She is, along with Juan, a central figure of Castilian Renaissance mysticism. Teresa composed many spiritual writings (almost five hundred leers and around thirty works of poetry); however, she is perhaps best known for three works: Vida de Santa Teresa de Jesús (e life of Santa Teresa de Jesús), Camino de perfección (Road to perfection), and El castillo interior o las moradas (e interior castle or the dwelling places). is last work, completed in 1577 while Teresa resided in the convent of San José del Carmen in Toledo, is considered by many to be her most important, although it is her Vida that continues to receive the most aention om literary scholars.

[ 183 ]

Cuán triste es, Dios mío ¡Cuán triste es, Dios mío, la vida sin ti! Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. Carrera muy larga es la de este suelo, morada penosa, muy duro destierro. ¡Oh dueño adorado, sácame de aquí! Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. Lúgubre es la vida, amarga en estremo; que no vive el alma que está de ti lejos. ¡Oh dulce bien mío, que soy infeliz! Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. ¡Oh muerte benigna, socorre mis penas! Tus golpes son dulces, que el alma libertan. ¡Que dicha, oh mi amado, estar junto a ti! Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. El amor mundano apega a esta vida; el amor divino por la otra suspira. Sin ti, Dios eterno, ¿quién puede vivir? [ 184 ]

How sad it is, my God, life without you! Anxious to see you, I wish to die. 5

10

15

20

25

30

A very long road is that of this earth, a painful dwelling place, a very difficult exile. Oh beloved master, take me om here! Anxious to see you, I wish to die. Doleful is this life, extremely bier; the soul that is far om you does not live. Oh my sweet beloved, I am so unhappy! Anxious to see you, I wish to die. Oh benign death, comfort my sorrows! Your blows are sweet, as they ee the soul. What joy, oh my beloved, to be next to you! Anxious to see you, I wish to die. Mundane love aaches itself to this life; divine love sighs for the one to come. Without you, eternal God, who can live? [ 185 ]

* Santa Teresa de Ávila *

How Sad It Is, My God

Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. La vida terrena es continuo duelo; vida verdadera la hay sólo en el cielo. Permite, Dios mío, que viva yo allí. Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. ¿Quién es el que teme la muerte del cuerpo, si con ella logra un placer inmenso? ¡Oh, sí, el de amarte, Dios mío, sin fin! Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. Mi alma afligida gime y desfallece. ¡Ay! ¿Quién de su amado puede estar ausente? Acabe ya, acabe aqueste suir. Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. El barbo cogido en doloso anzuelo encuentra en la muerte el fin del tormento. ¡Ay!, también yo suo, bien mío, sin ti. Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. En vano mi alma te busca, ¡oh mi dueño!; [ 186 ]

40

45

50

55

60

65

70

Anxious to see you, I wish to die. is earthly life is continuous pain; a true life exists only in heaven. Allow me, my God, to live there. Anxious to see you, I wish to die. Who is it that fears the death of the body, if with that death is gained an immense pleasure? Oh yes, that of loving you, my God, with no end! Anxious to see you, I wish to die. My afflicted soul moans and falters. Ay! Who can bear to be absent om her beloved? End now, end this suffering. Anxious to see you, I wish to die. e barbel100 caught in the fisherman’s hook finds in death the end of its torment. Ay! I also suffer, my Love, without you. Anxious to see you, I wish to die. In vain my soul looks for you, oh my master! [ 187 ]

* Santa Teresa de Ávila *

35

tú, siempre invisible, no alivias su anhelo. ¡Ay!, esto la inflama hasta prorrumpir: Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. ¡Ay!, cuando te dignas entrar en mi pecho, Dios mío, al instante el perderte temo. Tal pena me aflige y me hace decir: Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. Haz, Señor, que acabe tan larga agonía; socorre a tu sierva, que por ti suspira. Rompe aquestos hierros y sea feliz. Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir. Mas no, dueño amado, que es justo padezca; que expíe mis yerros, mis culpas inmensas. ¡Ay!, logren mis lágrimas te dignes oír: Ansiosa de verte, deseo morir.

Ya toda me entregué y di Ya toda me entregué y di y de tal suerte he trocado que mi amado para mí y yo soy para mi amado. [ 188 ]

80

85

90

95

100

Ay! when you consent to enter into my breast, my God, at that moment I fear losing you. Such fear afflicts me and makes me say: Anxious to see you, I wish to die. Bring, Lord, this long agony to an end, comfort your servant who sighs for you. Break these irons and be happy. Anxious to see you, I wish to die. But no, beloved master, it is just that I suffer; that I atone for my errors, my immense faults. Ay! may my tears convince you to listen to me: Anxious to see you, I wish to die.

I Have Given Myself I have given myself so completely that my beloved is for me and I am for my beloved. [ 189 ]

* Santa Teresa de Ávila *

75

at you remain invisible does not lessen its longing. Ay! this enflames it to the point of bursting forth: Anxious to see you, I wish to die.

Cuando el dulce cazador me tiró y dejó herida en los brazos del amor mi alma quedó rendida, y cobrando nueva vida de tal manera he trocado que mi amado para mí y yo soy para mi amado. Hirióme con una flecha enherbolada de amor y mi alma quedó hecha una con su criador; ya yo no quiero otro amor, pues a mi Dios me he entregado, y mi amado para mí y yo soy para mi amado.

[ 190 ]

10

15

20

When the sweet hunter shot me and le me wounded in the arms of love, my soul surrendered itself, taking on new life in such a way that my beloved is for me and I am for my beloved. He wounded me with an arrow spiked with love, and my soul became one with its creator. I no longer want any other love. I have given myself to my God. My beloved is for me and I am for my beloved.

[ 191 ]

* Santa Teresa de Ávila *

5

jorge de montemayor (montemor) (1520?–1561)

Whether he was actually born in Montemor-o-Velho (near Coimbra, Portugal) or not, Jorge de Montemayor took this town’s name as his own and later Castilianized it. Very lile is known of his life or of his family origins, although his native command of Castilian has led more than one scholar to suggest that one of his parents was om Castile. He seems not to have had any formal university training, although he likely studied music at some point given his position as a chapel vocalist in the service of Princess Juana de Austria (1535–73), the youngest (legitimate) daughter of Emperor Carlos V (1500–58). Montemayor’s literary reputation is based almost solely on Los siete libros de la Diana (e seven books of the Diana), a singularly popular pastoral romance containing a great deal of poetry, published circa 1559. e Diana is generally recognized as the first modern pastoral romance, a genre first developed in Italy that mixed pastoral poetry with a fictional narrative in prose. e most influential Italian example of the form was Jacopo Sannazaro’s Arcadia (1504), and other examples include Bernardim Ribeiro’s Menina e moça (1554; Girl and maiden), Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia (1590), and Honoré d’Urfé’s L’Astrée (1607–27). Montemayor’s Diana would serve as an important source for later works such as Miguel de Cervantes’s Don Quijote and William Shakespeare’s e Two Gentlemen of Verona. He is also the author of various prose epistles, including the well-known Epístola a Sá de Miranda (Leer to Sá de Miranda), composed between 1552 and 1554. Montemayor also composed several lyric poems in Castilian. ese were first published in Antwerp in 1554 as Las obras de George de Monte Mayor repartidas en dos libros (e works of Jorge de Montemayor divided into two books). Subsequent volumes would appear throughout the rest of the sixteenth century. [ 193 ]

Gastando fue el amor mis tristes años Gastando fue el amor mis tristes años, en vanas esperanzas y excusadas; fortuna, de mis lágrimas cansadas, ejemplos puso al mundo muy extraños. El tiempo, como autor de desengaños, tal rastro deja en él de mis pisadas que no habrá confianzas engañadas, ni quien de hoy más se queje de sus daños. Aquella a quien amé cuanto debía, enseña a conocer en sus amores lo que entender no pude hasta ahora. Y yo digo gritando noche y día: ¿no veis que os desengaña, ¡oh amadores!, amor, fortuna, el tiempo y mi señora?

No me quejo yo del daño No me quejo yo del daño que tu vista me causó, quéjome porque llegó a mal tiempo el desengaño. Jamás vi peor estado que es el no atrever ni osar, y entre el callar y hablar, verse un hombre sepultado. Y así no quejo del daño por ser tú quien lo causó, sino por ver que llegó a mal tiempo el desengaño. Siempre me temo saber cualquiera cosa encubierta, [ 194 ]

Love iered away all my sad years in vain and bootless hopes; and fortune divulged to the world very strange samples of my endless tears. Time, as the author of all disillusion, now bears such marks upon it om my footsteps that there can no longer be betrayed trust, nor one alive to complain more of the damage it does. She whom I loved as much as I should teaches through her love a lesson that I could not understand until now. And I shout it out every day: Lovers, don’t you see that you’ll be disabused by love, fortune, time, and my lady?

I Don’t Complain of the Harm102 I don’t complain of the harm that seeing you has caused me; I complain because disillusion came to me far too late. 5

10

I’ve never seen a worse state than that of neither trying nor daring, and between speaking and remaining silent to see oneself buried. And so I don’t complain of the harm, because it is you that caused it, but only because disillusion came to me far too late. I’m always fearful of discovering any hidden thing, [ 195 ]

* Jorge de Montemayor (Montemor) *

Love Friered Away All My Sad Years101

porque sé que la más cierta más mi contraria ha de ser. Y en saberla no está el daño, pero séla a tiempos yo que nunca jamás sirvió de remedio el desengaño.

[ 196 ]

20

because I know the truer it is, the more to my detriment it must be. And the harm isn’t in knowing this, but I’ve long known that disillusion has never done anyone any good.

[ 197 ]

* Jorge de Montemayor (Montemor) *

15

joan timoneda (1518?–1583)

Born in Valencia sometime between 1518 and 1520, Joan Timoneda was the son of a hide-tanner named Domingo Timoneda, a native of Alcañiz. Carrying on the family business, Timoneda started out as a tanner and in 1541 married Isabel Ferrandis, with whom he had four children. His family’s artisan status did not prevent him om entering into the thriving literary culture of sixteenth-century Valencia: by 1547 he is listed as a bookseller and former tanner; by 1553 he is mentioned as a composer; and between 1558 and 1575 his name appears as editor, publisher, writer, and folklorist, and even occasionally as an actor. Timoneda also participated actively in the civic life of Valencia, as he speculated in the silk market and was a member of a religious brotherhood dedicated to the Mare de Déu dels Desemparats (Our Lady of the Forsaken), the city’s patroness. Many of Timoneda’s works are praised for the ways in which they insert popular and folk elements into sixteenth-century Valencian book culture. He wrote in both Catalan and Castilian, and he came into contact with many important writers of his time, including Miguel de Cervantes and Lope de Rueda. Timoneda’s narrative work appears in three collections of short stories: Sobremesa y alivio de caminantes (1563; Playtime and comfort to travelers), El buen aviso y portacuentos (1564; e good notice and story-carrier), and Patrañuelo (1567; Patrañuelo). Patrañuelo is the work for which Timoneda is best known, and it is of considerable interest to literary scholars given that it is a work of prose fiction that essentially revises tales om the Gesta romanorum as well as others authored by Giovanni Boccaccio, Ludovico Ariosto, and Maeo Bandello, among others. Timoneda’s dramatic works, influenced by Italian theater, include full-length comedias and numerous autos sacramentales. e titles of his best-known poetic anthologies are Cancionero llamado sarao de amor (Songbook called the gala of love) and Flors d’enamorats (Lovers’ flowers). [ 199 ]

Soy garridica Soy garridica y vivo penada por ser mal casada. Yo soy, no repuno, hermosa sin cuento, amada de uno, querida de ciento; no tengo contento ni valgo ya nada por ser mal casada. Con estos cabellos de bel parecer haría con ellos los hombres perder; quien los puede haver no los tiene en nada por ser mal casada.

No hi ha al món major dolor No hi ha al món major dolor ni més igual que el morir, com del que és ferit d’amor i no es gosa descobrir. Dos mil pensaments lo maten ab dolor molt desigual; dos mil combats lo combaten, tostemps cobrint lo seu mal: no hi ha al món mal tan pitjor ni més tan fort de soir, com del que és ferit d’amor i no es gosa descobrir.

[ 200 ]

I am young and beautiful, but I live in anguish because I am poorly married.

5

10

15

I am, I do not deny it, beautiful beyond account. I am loved by one and desired by a hundred. And yet I am unhappy and worth nothing, as I am poorly married. With these beautiful strands of hair I would make men lose themselves; but who has them considers them worthless, as she is poorly married.

ere Is in the World No Greater Pain ere is in the world no greater pain, no one that comes closer to death, than to be wounded by love and dare not reveal it. 5

10

Two thousand thoughts kill him with unequaled pain; two thousand bales rage within him, always covering up his suffering: there is in the world no greater suffering, nor one that is harder to endure, than to be wounded by love and dare not reveal it.

[ 201 ]

* Joan Timoneda *

I Am Young and Beautiful

La vida porta avorrida pensant en la que tant ama, desitjant perdre la vida per no danyar-li la fama: no pot ser major temor, quan bé es vulla discernir, com del que és ferit d’amor i no es gosa descobrir. Lo cor té mig travessat, ferit de dos mil llançades, sens poder ésser curat sinó per qui són donades: no hi ha ningun mal pitjor, vent que no el poden guarir, com del que és ferit d’amor i no es gosa descobrir.

Só qui só, que no só io Só qui só, que no só io, puix d’amor mudat me só. Io crec cert que res no sia, o, si só, só fantasia, o algun home que somia que ve a alcançar algun do. puix d’amor mudat me só. Só del tot transfigurat; só aquell que era llibertat, i ara d’amors cativat me veig molt fora raó, puix d’amor mudat me só. Si só, puix que en lo món vixc i a mi mateix avorrixc, i segons que discernixc veig la qui em dóna passió puix d’amor mudat me só. [ 202 ]

20

25

His heart is cut in half, wounded by two thousand lances, without hope for any cure except om she that gave them: there is no greater suffering, seeing that they cannot heal it, than to be wounded by love and dare not reveal it.

I Am Who I Am, But I Am Not Myself I am who I am, but I am not myself, for love has so changed me.

5

I truly believe that I am nothing, or if I am, then only a fantasy or a man who dreams that he might reach some prize. Love has so changed me.

10

I am completely transfigured; I am that which was eedom and is now imprisoned by love. I see myself beyond all reason. Love has so changed me.

15

If I am, then in the world may I live and hate myself. As far as I can discern, I see only she that gave me this passion. Love has so changed me. [ 203 ]

* Joan Timoneda *

15

Life is hateful to him thinking of the one he loves, preferring to lose his life than harm her reputation: there can be no greater fear, when one truly discerns it, than to be wounded by love and dare not reveal it.

aljamiado poetry (second half of sixteenth century)

Despite the steady decline of Muslim political power and the overall importance of Granada’s fall in 1492, the end of Muslim rule in the Iberian Peninsula did not mean the end of Muslim life and culture there. At the beginning of the sixteenth century, eight years aer Granada’s fall, nearly half a million Muslims were still living under the Catholic Monarchs’ power (out of a total Iberian population of roughly nine million). ese mudéjar (i.e., Muslims living under Christian rule) communities were centered to a great extent in and around Granada and Valencia, though there were also sizable communities in Aragon and smaller, more assimilated groups scaered throughout Castile. Shortly aer the start of the sixteenth century, however, the fortunes of Castilian and Aragonese Muslims began to change. In 1502 King Fernando and Queen Isabel issued an order requiring all Muslims in Castile and León to convert to Christianity or leave at once. e same law would reach Navarre in 1515 and Aragon in 1526. e royal order was widely enforced (executed in large part by mass baptisms and coercive tactics), and by the end of the first quarter of the sixteenth century, the official Muslim population of Spain had been reduced to nearly zero. Converted Muslims were commonly referred to as moriscos. Of course the speedy, mostly nominal conversion of Iberian Muslims to Christianity (the Muslims and Jews of Portugal were expelled om that kingdom or forced to convert in 1497) does not tell the whole story. Because the overwhelming majority of these conversions were performed by coercion and under duress, whole communities of Muslims (now nominally Christian) continued to practice Islam as they had before, some even doing so openly. One important and effective means by which the moriscos were able to maintain their religion and culture was the production of handwrien [ 204 ]

books that were actively recopied despite their illegality. Many of these books were copied out in Castilian and Aragonese (with varying amounts of intercalated Arabic) using an adapted form of Arabic script known to modern scholars as aljamiado. Texts in aljamiado, produced in a wide range of forms and genres (including lyric poetry), played a number of very complex and important roles within morisco communities, roles that morisco scribes neither negatively defined nor instantiated without a keen firsthand sense of the equently dire situation in which the readers of these texts, and their listening public, found themselves.

[ 205 ]

Las loores son ada Allah, el alto, verdadero Madrid, BRAH MS 11 / 9414 (olim T-18) ff. 189v–192r (un códice descubierto en Morés, Aragon) Las loores son ada Allah, el alto, verdadero honrado y conplido, Señor muy derechero, Señor de todo el mundo, uno solo y señero, anco, poderoso, ordenador sertero; al cual pido y demando su ayuda y favor, y perdón de mis pecados, de mi gran falta y error, y a mi padre y a mi madre y a todos mis hermanos Él nos quiera perdonar nuesas yerras y pecados. Y tornando a declarar, lo que tengo en intinción de alabar y ensalzar a quien es tanta razón, pues que por su nacimiento fue nuesa redención, y fuimos todos librados y quitos de perdición. No me siento yo complido para esto declarar; porque soy muy torpe y rudo para haber de hablar en tan alta criatura, luna clara y de beldad. El de la gran hermosura, sol de alteza y claridad. Pero quiero declarar lo que está bien asentado y se halla por verdad que estaba profetizado; que juró nueso Señor, el alto, de la gran día, que si no por nueso amado, cosa criado no habría. Así fue luego enviado con descanso y bendición al reparo de las gentes y muy gran consolación, y con ley muy clara declarando la verdad, desfaciendo la mentira de toda la Trenidad. Y como al mundo salió, demostró su gran bondad, que luego hizo obediencia al Rey alto de verdad;

[ 206 ]

Madrid, BRAH MS 11 / 9414 (olim T-18) ff. 189v–192r (a codex found in Morés, Aragon) All praise goes to God on high; He is true, honorable, and complete, a righteous Lord, Lord of all the world, one alone and illustrious, a generous, powerful, and sound orderer of things;103 5

10

15

20

To Him I request and ask for His help and favor, and forgiveness for my sins, for my grave shortcomings and errors; may He also forgive the errors and sins of my father, my mother, and all my brothers and sisters.104 And turning back to speak, what I intend to do is praise and exalt him who so merits it, as because of his birth we were redeemed, and we were all released and saved om perdition. I do not feel adequate to decare all this, because I am very clumsy and coarse to be speaking of such a high creature, a clear and beautiful moon. He, the one of great beauty, sun of highness and clarity. But I wish to recite what is well established and to be the truth that was prophesied. For our Lord on high swore, on that great day, that if not for our beloved,105 nothing would have been created. He was later sent with relief and blessings to the people and was a great consolation, and with a very clear law declaring the truth, undoing the lie regarding the trinity.

25

And as he came into the world, he demonstrated his great goodness, and later he knelt down before the true king on high;

[ 207 ]

* Aljamiado poetry *

All Praise Goes to God on High

alzó luego su cabeza, aseñando con su dedo que era solo y sin segundo el Rey alto, verdadero. Y tambien pidió perdón por su al-umma a su Señor, lo segundo que habló con cuidado y con amor. pues que nos tuvo en memoria en todas sus peticiones, razón es que lo tengamos puesto en nuesos corazones. Pues lo quiso demosar en su alto puyamiento, son cosas tan excelentes, que no tienen ningún cuento; que toda la idolatría fue luego derribada, y la casa en que nació de almalaques rodeada. Y las aves revolando y los montes relumbrando, y los cielos bien abiertos almalaques deballaban. y los peces de la mar, en las ondas donde estaban, y las alimañas brutas, en los bosques do posaban. Todos están al rededor, que no se pueden contar, diciendo: “Sea ensalzado Él que lo quiso enviar; que por su nacimiento fuimos todos reparados de este amigo amado, santo, bienaventurado.” Fue tomado muy aprisa sin tardanza ni vagar, rodeando todo el mundo por la tierra y por la mar; porque todos lo viesen que era el enviado, el que estaba prometido, escrito y profetizado. Fue luego tornado con muy grande acatamiento, cuando fuere complido todo su excitamiento; todas a él venían por haberlo de criar, mas al fin fue Halı¯ma, la de aquel alto lugar; ˙ que oyeron un clamante que clamaba y decía: “Ensalzada será la que leche le daría; pueblo, si en ti entrara esta luz de bendición, seremos todos librados y quitos de perdición.” Luego salieron aprisa del pueblo que ha hablado, y todas se fueron a Mecca de gran prisa y de grado.

[ 208 ]

30

35

40

He also asked his Lord to forgive his community, and he spoke with much care and love. He kept us in mind with all of his petitions, and this is reason enough for us to place him in our hearts. He wished to demonstrate it in his high ascent, things that are so excellent that they de narration; all idolatry was soon torn down, and the house in which he was born surrounded by angels. e birds took wing, the mountains resounded, heaven opened up, and the angels descended. And the fish of the sea, in the waves where they were, and the brute animals in the forests where they lay. All of these are around him, too many to count, saying: “May He who has sent him be exalted; through his birth we were all put right by this beloved, holy, and blessed iend.”

45

50

He was quickly taken without delay, circling the entire world over land and sea, so that all would see that he was the one sent, the one who was promised, wrien of, and prophesied. He was then returned with great respect when his journey was complete. All the women came wishing to raise him, but in the end it was Halı¯ma, she of that high place.106 ˙

She heard a voice that cried out and said: “Praised be the woman who gives him her milk; 55 people, if this blessed light enters among you, we will all be eed and saved om perdition.” en everyone quickly le the town and went to Mecca gladly and with great haste.

[ 209 ]

* Aljamiado poetry *

he then raised his head, signaling with his finger that He was one, and that He alone was the true king on high.

y nenguna lo vido a este bienaventurado, sino Halı¯ma la noble, que esto le fue mandado. ˙ Como fue llegada a Mecca, fuese luego sin tardar a la casa de su madre, ad haberlo de tomar. Fue contento su agüelo de este profeta amado que lo hubiese de criar . . . Tomóle luego Halı¯ma para darle a tetar; ˙ púsole en la teta izquierda, mas non la quiso tomar; mosando con la derecha al mundo fue enviado, que tenía un hijo que venía de aquel lado. Pues contar aquella limpieza que fue en su criazón es descanso a los ojos y alegría al corazón; jamás de él salió suciedad ni rudeza. de la luna de beldad, mas de bondad y limpieza. Tornando a declarar lo que se siguió adelante, se me rompe el corazón y me pone solevante, en ser yo tan atrevido en sus cosas de hablar. Mas con su poder y ayuda algunas he de contar. Que volvió con gran derecho la tierra de gran verdad, y quitó aquella ceguera de falsía y de maldad. hasta en tanto que dejó la tierra bien asentada; aunque la halló sola, la dejó muy alabada. Su corazón fue sacado de su cuerpo sin dudar. lavado y alimpiado, luego vuelto a su lugar; y la luna vino a él riendo y con humildad, haciendo el asala sobre él, diciendo: “Ya¯ Muhammad, ˙ “dime lo que quieres que haga luego, sin demás tardar, ya¯ mi amigo amado, quien honró este lugar; que mandado me ha sido del rey alto, verdadero, que te sea obidiente en todo y por entero.” En la cueva se salvó cuando fue reacosado, la tarataña tesió luego por donde hubo entrado,

[ 210 ]

And none of them saw this blessed one save the noble Halı¯ma, as it was ordered to be. ˙ When she arrived with him in Mecca, she went without delay to her mother’s house. Her grandfather was content that they should raise this beloved prophet . . . 107

65

70

75

80

Halı¯ma then took him to let him suckle; ˙ she gave him her le breast, but he refused to drink om it. He had been sent to the world to lead om the right; she had a son who would drink om the le. To recount the virtuous way in which he grew up is a pleasure for the eyes and a happiness for the heart; never did any obscenity or rudeness come om him. He was as beautiful as the moon, but om his goodness and virtue. As I turn to relate what happened aerward, it breaks my heart and greatly disturbs me that I should be so daring as to speak of these maers; but with his power and help, I must speak of a few of them. He returned the world with great rightness to the truth, and removed the blindness of falsity and evil. He le the world well situated; although he found it alone, he le it highly praised. His heart was removed om his body without hesitation. Washed and cleaned, it was then returned to its place; and the moon came to him smiling and in all humility; praying before him, it said: “Muhammad, ˙

85 “tell me what you want me to do without delay,

my beloved iend, who has honored this place; for the true king on high has ordered me to be obedient to you in all things and completely.”

90

In the cave he was saved when he was being persecuted:108 the spider spun a web over where they had entered

[ 211 ]

* Aljamiado poetry *

60

la paloma hizo nido por cerrar el agujero, porque no fuesen hallados él y su buen compañero. La peña le voceó, diciendo que le hablase; el árbol se arrancó, diciendo que le mirase; el tronco le halagaba, diciéndole: “¡Muy amado! ¿por qué te has ido de mí, que tan triste me has dejado?” El ardacho le habló y dijo de esta manera: que siguiendo y amando su camino y carrera, que la gloria alcanzarían todos amigos y amados, donde muchos lo oyeron que estaba cierto probado. El lobo con él habló riendo y con alegría, y le dijo: “Mensajero, a ti un pastor vernía, que yo lo he desengañado, que creerá en tu Señor, y que a ti venga de grado, luego sin nengún temor.” Luego vino el pastor sin nengún detardamiento a nueso amigo amado a muy gran razonamiento, diciendo que él quería tornarse a la creencia, porque era la ley mejor enviada de la esencia. Pues contar aquel milagro de su alto puiamiento a la corte celestial con grande acatamiento, que todos los siete cielos los andó en un momento, y llegó a su Señor a muy gran razonamiento; que nadie puede pensar el secreto tan excelente que con su Señor pasó en aquella noche presente; que llegó a una grada donde nadie había llegado, y todo lo que allí había le fue cierto demosado; y todos los almalaques con honor y alegría lo salieron a recebir y hacerle compañia; de todos fue visitado con placer y albriciado, diciendo que él era cierto el bienaventurado. Y que Allah no jalecó cosa de más valer, y qu’él era el profeta y el tresoro y el saber,

[ 212 ]

95

100

e rock spoke to him, telling him to speak to it;111 the tree uprooted itself, telling him to look at it; the trunk flaered him, saying: “Much Beloved! Why have you le me, leaving me so sad?” e lizard spoke to him and promised all those iends and beloved ones who followed and loved his path and course would achieve glory. Many heard him say this, and it was proved to be true. e wolf spoke to him smiling and with great happiness and said to him: “Messenger of God, a shepherd to whom I have shown the truth will come to you; he will believe in your Lord, and may he come happily and with no fear.”

105

110

115

120

Soon aerward, the shepherd came to our iend who loved rightful speech, and said to him that he wished to convert to the faith, because it was the greatest law sent om the Essence. Now to recount the miracle of his great ascent, with great respect, in the celestial court. He passed through the seven heavens in one moment and arrived to his Lord, where they spoke of great things. Nobody can imagine the excellent secrets his Lord shared with him on that night, as he had arrived at a place where no one had arrived before, and everything there was shown to him very certainly. And all the angels came with great honor and happiness to receive him and keep him company; he was visited by all with pleasure and given a great welcome, and they said to him that he was certainly blessed. ey said that Allah had not created anything of greater worth, and that he was the prophet, the treasure, and the knowledge;

[ 213 ]

* Aljamiado poetry *

and the dove made a nest to hide the opening109 so that he and his good companion110 would not be found.

y qu’él fue cierto el mayor de los que en el mundo fueron, y el fiel más ensalzado de todos los que nacieron. Las flores y las olores nacieron de su sudor, y el día del judicio cierto él será rogador; que sino por su rogaría nadie fuera escapado, y de su tristeza de él nadie seyera librado. De sus manos nacieron fuentes de agua de bendición cuando estaba en el desierto y la gente en perdición; ¡oh, escogido y amado, luna clara y de alegría! Señor, con ti me defiendo en la noche y en el día. Que según son mis pecados de mi gran falta y error, que en todas las belades no hay más torpe pecador que yo, torpe, desdichado; tú me quieras perdonar, y por su rogaría dél tú me quieras escapar. Y pues hallo de mi cuenta que no hay quien pueda cantar sus gracias ni maravillas, poderlas declarar, basta que él es el mayor que al mundo fue enviado, el fiel más rogador en el día atribulado. Hagamos el asala sobre él, que no se pueda contar, en la noche y en el día, luego, sin demás tardar; roguemos ad Allah nos saque juntos con él en el día del judicio, cabo él y en su tropel. Y por su alta excelencia él nos quiera amparar, y en esta alta creencia nos deje bien acabar, y al fin de nuesas vidas nos deje testimoniar aquella noble palabra, que nos podamos salvar. En la entrada de la fuesa nos dé fuerte corazón para bien le responder en aquella tentación; que es tan recia y tan amarga, que no lo oso decir, pensando y mirando en Moncarón y Nathir. No quiero de esto paga de este mundo de tristura, ni tampoco vanagloria ni nenguna hermosura;

[ 214 ]

125

130

135

140

e flowers and their agrance were born of his sweat, and on the day of judgment he will certainly pray for us; without his prayers none of us will escape and none of us will be eed om sadness. From his hands were born springs of holy water when he was in the desert and the people in perdition; oh chosen one and beloved, clear and happy moon! My Lord, with you I defend myself at night and in the day. Since my sins come om my own lack and error, and in all the land there is no sinner more graceless than I, clumsy, miserable, may you forgive me and through your prayer to Him may you wish to help me to escape. And I find that there is no one who can sing his graces and marvels, or recite them; it is enough that he is the greatest that has been sent to the world, the faithful one most devoted to prayer on the day of tribulation. Let us, without delay, pray endlessly over him, both night and day; let us pray to God that He saves us together with him on the Day of Judgment, behind him and among his followers.

145

150

And through his great excellence, may he wish to aid us and allow us to develop fully in this excellent faith; and at the end of our lives may he allow us to give testimony to that noble word, so that we may be saved. And when we enter the grave, may he give us a strong heart so as to respond well to temptation, which is so difficult and bier that I don’t dare to speak of it, thinking of and looking to Munkar and Nakir.112 I do not want om this any payment om this world of sadness, nor do I wish for excessive vanity or any sort of worldly beauty;

[ 215 ]

* Aljamiado poetry *

and that he was certainly the greatest of those that were in the world, and the most praised one of faith who had ever been born.

porque lo que yo he hablado es gracia de mi Señor, y no cierto agudeza de mí, torpe pecador. Y cumple de apaganza ad aquella compañía que siguieron a Muhammad en aquella agonía, ˙ y a todos los seguidores y a mi Señor honrado, y a todos los muslimes por su honra y estado.

[ 216 ]

160

because what I have spoken is the grace of my Lord and no wit of my own, clumsy sinner that I am. It is enough payment for that company that followed Muhammad in his torment, ˙ and all of his followers, and to my honored Lord, and to all Muslims for their honor and estate.

[ 217 ]

* Aljamiado poetry *

155

luís vaz de camões (1524?–1580)

Luís Vaz de Camões (or simply Luís de Camões) was born in Lisbon and lived there until his early twenties, when he joined the Portuguese troops then occupying Ceuta. It was there that he lost his right eye in bale. Back in Lisbon around 1550, Camões proceeded to live an undisciplined life on the streets as well as in the noble palaces of Libson before he was encarcerated for stabbing a royal official during a fight that broke out during the celebration of Corpus Christi. Accepting a form of reduced sentence, Camões “volunteered” to go to Asia in the service of the empire, and he ended up spending seventeen years away om Portugal. While in Asia, Camões served as a soldier in various military expeditions before securing the position of trustee of the dead and missing in Macau. On his way back to Goa om China to face formal charges of embezzlement, his ship became caught in a severe storm and sank somewhere in the Mekong Delta. Camões lost all of his possessions in this shipwreck except, as the tale goes, the sole manuscript of his unfinished epic, Os Lusíadas (e Lusiads), which he held above the water as he swam to safety. He was eventually rescued and sent back to Goa, and aer serving prison time for embezzlement and failure to pay debts, Camões traveled back to Portugal, arriving in Lisbon in 1570. Despite the fact that Os Lusíadas was published two years later and earned him a small royal pension, the poet spent the last years of his life in abject poverty before dying during an outbreak of the plague. Although it is difficult to overstate the success of his Os Lusíadas (it’s reported that one of the first things that Felipe II ordered upon taking possession of Portugal in 1580 was a Castilian translation), Camões was also an extraordinarily gied lyric poet. e overwhelming majority of his lyric compositions (along with many that were merely ascribed to him) were published aer his death. e first edition of Camões’s lyric compo[ 218 ]

sitions, titled Rhythmas de Luís de Camões, divididas em cinco partes (Rhythms of Luís de Camões, divided in five parts) was published in 1595 by Manuel de Lira. is collection and those that would come aer it contain numerous sonnets, eclogues, odes, and elegies, as well as traditional Portuguese forms such as cançoes, esparsas, and redondilhas.

[ 219 ]

Mudam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades Mudam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades, muda-se o ser, muda-se a confiança; todo o mundo é composto de mudança, tomando sempre novas qualidades. Continuamente vemos novidades, diferentes em tudo da esperança; do mal ficam as mágoas na lembrança, e do bem (se algum houve), as saüdades. O tempo cobre o chão de verde manto, que já coberto foi de neve ia, e em mim converte em choro o doce canto. E, afora este mudar-se cada dia, outra mudança faz de mor espanto: que não se muda já como soía.

Eu cantarei de amor tão docemente Eu cantarei de amor tão docemente, por uns termos em si tão concertados, que dous mil acidentes namorados faça sentir ao peito que não sente. Farei que amor a todos avivente, pintando mil segredos delicados, brandas iras, suspiros magoados, temerosa ousadia e pena ausente. Também, Senhora, do desprezo honesto de vossa vista branda e rigorosa contentar-me-ei dizendo a menos parte. Porém, para cantar de vosso gesto a composição alta e milagrosa, aqui falta saber, engenho e arte. [ 220 ]

Times change and desires change. We change and that which we once held to be certain. e entire world is made of change; it continually takes on new qualities. We continually witness new things, different in every way om what we imagined. As for the bad, the suffering it caused remains in our memory; for the good (if there ever was any), there remains only longing.113 Time covers in a green mantle the ground once covered with cold snow. In me, it converts the sweet song into weeping. Beyond this daily and constant change, there is yet one change that provokes greater awe, that does not change now as it once did.

I Would Sing of Love So Sweetly I would sing of love so sweetly,114 in terms so inherently harmonious, that I would make even the unfeeling breast experience two thousand amorous emotions. I would make love alive to all, painting a thousand delicate secrets, so rage, painful sighs, timid daring and absent suffering. I would also content myself, Lady, to say what lile can be said of the honest disdain conveyed by your so and rigorous gaze. To sing, however, of the elevated and sublime composition of your face, I have neither the expertise, the talent, nor the art. [ 221 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

Times Change and Desires Change

Amor é um fogo que arde sem se ver Amor é um fogo que arde sem se ver; é ferida que dói, e não se sente; é um contentamento descontente é dor que desatina sem doer; é um não querer mais que bem querer; é um andar solitário entre a gente; é nunca contentar-se de contente; é cuidar que se ganha em se perder; é querer estar preso por vontade; é servir a quem vence, o vencedor; é ter com quem nos mata lealdade. Mas como causar pode seu favor nos corações humanos amizade, se tão contrário a si é o mesmo Amor?

Cá nesta Babilónia, donde mana Cá nesta Babilónia, donde mana matéria a quanto mal o mundo cria; cá onde o puro Amor não tem valia, que a Mãe, que manda mais, tudo profana; cá, onde o mal se afina e o bem se dana, e pode mais que a honra a tirania; cá, onde a errada e cega monarquia cuida que um nome vão a desengana; cá, neste labirinto, onde a nobreza, com esforço e saber pedindo vão às portas da cobiça e da vileza; cá neste escuro caos de confusão, cumprindo o curso estou da natureza. Vê se me esquecerei de ti, Sião! [ 222 ]

Love is a fire that burns without being seen; it’s a wound that hurts but is not felt; it’s a dissatisfied contentment; it’s a pain that disorients without stinging; it’s desiring nothing but to love well; it’s a solitary movement through the crowd; it’s never being satified with contentment; it’s believing that one is saved through loss. It’s willfully desiring to be imprisoned; it’s serving whom you’ve conquered, as conqueror; it’s remaining loyal to one who murders us. But how can its favor cause iendship in the human heart, if love is so contrary even to itself?

Here in is Babylon, om Which Flows Here in this Babylon, om which flows material for every evil the world creates; here where pure Love has no value, and his Mother,115 more powerful, profanes everything; here, where evil is refined and good destroyed, and tyranny wins out over honor; here, where the lost and blinded Monarchy believes an empty name can restore its sight; here, in this labyrinth, where nobility, toil, and wisdom go begging at the doors of greed and villainy; here in this dark chaos of confusion, I’m coming to the end of nature’s course. See if I ever forget you, Zion! [ 223 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

Love Is a Fire at Burns without Being Seen

Aquela triste e leda madrugada Aquela triste e leda madrugada, cheia toda de mágoa e de piedade, enquanto houver no mundo saüdade quero que seja sempre celebrada. Ela só, quando amena e marchetada saía, dando ao mundo claridade, viu apartar-se de u˜a outra vontade, que nunca poderá ver-se apartada. Ela só viu as lágrimas em fio que de uns e de outros olhos derivadas, se acrescentaram em grande e largo rio. Ela viu as palavras magoadas que puderam tornar o fogo io, e dar descanso às almas condenadas.

Aquela cativa endechas a u ˜a cativa com quem andava d’amores na índia, chamada bárbora Aquela cativa que me tem cativo, porque nela vivo já não quer que viva. Eu nunca vi rosa em suaves molhos, que para meus olhos fosse mais fermosa. Nem no campo flores, nem no céu estrelas me parecem belas como os meus amores. Rosto singular, [ 224 ]

I wish that sad and joyous dawn, so full of suffering and mercy, to be celebrated always while there is longing116 in the world. It alone, so pleasant and glistening when it emerged, giving the world light, saw the parting of two wills that could never see themselves parted. It alone saw the stream of tears that flowed om their eyes and grew into a great and wide river. It saw their pained words, which could turn fire cold and give relief to damned souls.

at Slave song for a slave with whom he had an affair in india, whose name was barbara

5

10

at slave who holds me enslaved, because I live in her, does not want me to live. I never saw a rose in a tender bouquet that to my eyes was more beautiful. Neither flowers in fields nor stars in the sky seem to me as lovely as the one I love. Her face is singular, [ 225 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

I Wish at Sad and Joyous Dawn

olhos sossegados, pretos e cansados, mas não de matar. Uma graça viva, que neles lhe mora, para ser senhora de quem é cativa. Pretos os cabelos, onde o povo vão perde opinião que os louros são belos. Pretidão de Amor, tão doce a figura, que a neve lhe jura que trocara a cor. Leda mansidão, que o siso acompanha; bem parece estranha, mas bárbora não. Presença serena que a tormenta amansa; nela, enfim, descansa toda a minha pena. Esta é a cativa que me tem cativo. E pois nela vivo, é força que viva.

Sôbolos rios que vão Sôbolos rios que vão por Babilónia, me achei, onde sentado chorei as lembranças de Sião e quanto nela passei. Ali o rio corrente de meus olhos foi manado, [ 226 ]

20

25

30

35

40

her eyes are serene, black, and weary, though not of killing. A vibrant grace that dwells in her eyes makes a lady of one who is but a slave. Her hair is black, although the ordinary public wrongfully maintains that blondes are beautiful. e blackness of Love has such a sweet form that the snow swears it would change color with it. Joyful docility accompanied by wisdom— she may indeed seem strange, but not barbarous. Serene presence that tames the storm: in her, finally, ends all of my suffering. is is the slave that holds me enslaved; and since I live in her, I yet must live.

By the Rivers at Flow

5

By the rivers that flow through Babylon I found myself,117 where seated I wept over my memories of Zion and the time that I had spent there. ere the river running om my eyes poured down, [ 227 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

15

e tudo bem comparado: Babilónia ao mal presente, Sião ao tempo passado. Ali, lembranças contentes n’alma se representaram, e minhas cousas ausentes se fizeram tão presentes como se nunca passaram. Ali, depois de acordado, co rosto banhado em água, deste sonho imaginado, vi que todo o bem passado não é gosto, mas é mágoa. E vi que todos os danos se causavam das mudanças e as mudanças dos anos; onde vi quantos enganos faz o tempo às esperanças. Ali vi o maior bem quão pouco espaço que dura; o mal quão depressa vem, e quão triste estado tem quem se fia da ventura. Vi aquilo que mais val, que então se entende milhor quanto mais perdido for; vi o bem suceder o mal, e o mal, muito pior. E vi com muito trabalho comprar arrependimento; vi nenhum contentamento, e vejo-me a mim, qu’espalho tristes palavras ao vento. Bem são rios estas águas, com que banho este papel; bem parece ser cruel

[ 228 ]

15

20

25

30

35

40

ere happy memories presented themselves in my soul, and things that I now lack made themselves as present as if they had never gone away. ere, once awakened, with my face bathed in tears om this imagined dream, I saw that all goodness that has gone is no longer joy, but rather grief. And I saw that all of my pain had been caused by change, and change by the passing years; and I saw how thoroughly time deceives one’s hopes. ere I saw how even the greatest good lasts only a short time, how evil comes on quickly, and how sad is the state of anyone who trusts in fortune. I saw how what has the most worth is understood best the more lost to us it becomes; I saw good turn into bad, and the bad into much worse. I saw that with so much striving I’d only bought regret; I saw no contentment, and I see myself scaering sad words to the wind. My tears truly are rivers with which I wet this paper; this all truly seems a cruel

[ 229 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

10

and I compared everything: Babylon to my present afflictions, Zion to time past.

variedade de mágoas e confusão de Babel. Como homem que, por exemplo dos transes em que se achou, despois que a guerra deixou, pelas paredes do templo suas armas pendurou, assi, despois que assentei que tudo o tempo gastava, da tristeza que tomei nos salgueiros pendurei os órgãos com que cantava. Aquele instrumento ledo deixei da vida passada, dizendo: “Música amada, deixo-vos neste arvoredo à memória consagrada. “Frauta minha que, tangendo, os montes fazíeis vir para onde estáveis, correndo; e as águas, que iam decendo, tornavam logo a subir. Jamais vos não ouvirão os tigres, que se amansavam; e as ovelhas, que pastavam, das ervas se fartarão que, por vos ouvir, deixavam. “Já não fareis docemente em rosas tornar abrolhos na ribeira florescente; nem poreis eio à corrente, e mais, se for dos meus olhos. Não movereis a espessura, nem podereis já trazer atrás vós a fonte pura, pois não pudeste mover desconcertos da ventura.

[ 230 ]

50

55

60

assortment of torments and Babelian confusion. Like a man who, as a reminder of the perils he has experienced, aer leaving a life of war, hangs up his arms on the walls of a temple: so I, upon discovering that time lays waste to everything and om the sadness that I felt, hung up in the willows the harp I had played while singing. I le there the joyful instrument om my past life, saying: “Beloved music, I leave you in this grove consecrated to memory.

“Oh my flute, when I played you the sound made the hills run to where you were, and the waters that descended 65 turned to flow upward: never again will tigers hear your sound and grow docile, nor will sheep in pastures leave aside their grazing 70 in order to listen to you. “No longer will you sweetly make thistles turn into roses on the florid riverbank; nor will you halt the current, especially 75 when it flows om my eyes. No more will you move the forest, nor will you be able to pull behind you the pure spring, since you were unable to alter 80 the chaos of my fortune.

[ 231 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

45

“Ficareis oferecida à Fama, que sempre vela, auta de mim tão querida; porque, mudando-se a vida, se mudam os gostos dela. Acha a tenra mocidade prazeres acomodados, e logo a maior idade já sente por pouquidade aqueles gostos passados. “Um gosto, que hoje se alcança, amanhã já o não vejo; assi nos traz a mudança de esperança em esperança, e de desejo em desejo. Mas em vida tão escassa que esperança será forte? Fraqueza da humana sorte, que quanto da vida passa está receitando a morte! “Mas deixar nesta espessura o canto da mocidade, não cuide a gente futura que será obra da idade o que é força da ventura. Que idade, tempo, o espanto de ver quão ligeiro passe, nunca em mim puderam tanto que, posto que deixe o canto, a causa dele deixasse. “Mas, em tristezas e enojos, em gosto e contentamento, por sol, por neve, por vento, terné presente á los ojos por quien muero tan contento.” Órgãos e auta deixava, despojo meu tão querido, no salgueiro que ali estava [ 232 ]

“A pleasure that moves me today is one I won’t notice tomorrow; in this way change leads us along om hope to hope, 95 and om desire to desire. But in this life so brief what hope can be strong? How weak is our condition, as every day that passes 100 brings us closer to death! “But if I leave in this forest my childhood singing, may no one ever aribute to my advanced age that which 105 is due to the force of fortune. For age, time, and my shock at seeing how quickly it all passes could never move me so that, even if I give up my singing, 110 I abandon the cause for which I sing. “But in sadness and affliction, in pleasure and contentment, in sun, in snow, in wind, I shall always hold before me 115 the eyes of the one for whom I die so happily.”119 I le my harp and my flute, my beloved legacy, hanging there in the willow, [ 233 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

“You will be offered to Fame, who is ever watchful, my much beloved flute; because as life changes 85 so do our pleasures. Tender youth finds the pleasures that suit it, and greater maturity soon judges as insignificant 90 those past enjoyments.118

que para trofeu ficava de quem me tinha vencido. Mas lembranças da afeição que ali cativo me tinha, me perguntaram então: que era da música minha qu’eu cantava em Sião? Que foi daquele cantar das gentes tão celebrado? Porque o deixava de usar, pois sempre ajuda a passar qualquer trabalho passado? Canta o caminhante ledo no caminho trabalhoso, por antr’o espesso arvoredo; e de noite o temeroso, cantando, reeia o medo. Canta o preso docemente os duros grilhões tocando; canta o segador contente; e o trabalhador, cantando, o trabalho menos sente. Eu, qu’estas cousas senti n’alma, de mágoas tão cheia, “Como dirá,” respondi, “quem alheio está de si doce canto em terra alheia?” Como poderá cantar quem em choro banha o peito? Porque, se quem trabalhar canta por menos cansar, eu só descansos enjeito. Que não parece razão nem seria cousa idónea, por abrandar a paixão, que cantasse em Babilónia as cantigas de Sião. [ 234 ]

125

130

135

140

serving as a trophy for the one who had conquered me. But memories of the affection that had held me captive there then inquired of me: what had become of the music that I used to sing in Zion? What happened to that singing so praised by people? Why had I stopped, given that it always helps us endure any hardship or trial? e wayfarer makes himself happy singing on the difficult trail, or when surrounded by thick woods; and at night the fearful traveler sings and thus holds back his fear. e prisoner sings sweetly, marking time on his unyielding chains; the grain reaper sings and is content; and the worker who sings feels less the burden of his labors.

150

I, feeling all of these things in my soul so filled with suffering, answered: “How can one who is so far om himself sing a sweet song in a strange land? How can he sing while tears bathe his chest?” Because if we sing in order to relieve our suffering, it is precisely relief that I reject.

155

For it makes no sense, nor would it be right, to lessen my suffering by singing in Babylon the songs of Zion.

145

[ 235 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

120

Que, quando a muita graveza de saüdade quebrante esta vital fortaleza, antes moura de tristeza que, por abrandá-la, cante. Que se o fino pensamento só na tristeza consiste, não tenho medo ao tormento: que morrer de puro triste, que maior contentamento? Nem na auta cantarei o que passo e passei já, nem menos o escreverei; porque a pena cansará, e eu não descansarei. Que, se vida tão pequena se acrescenta em terra estranha, e se amor assi o ordena, razão é que canse a pena de escrever pena tamanha. Porém se, para assentar o que sente o coração, a pena já me cansar, não canse para voar a memória em Sião. Terra bem-aventurada, se, por algum movimento, d’alma me fores mudada, minha pena seja dada a perpétuo esquecimento. A pena deste desterro, que eu mais desejo esculpida em pedra ou em duro ferro, essa nunca seja ouvida, em castigo de meu erro. E se eu cantar quiser, em Babilónia sujeito, [ 236 ]

165

170

175

180

185

190

If discerning thought consists only of sadness, I will have no fear of its torment: for what greater happiness is there than to die om pure despair? Nor will I play on the flute that which I suffer and have suffered, nor will I write it down, as my pen120 will just grow weary and I will feel no relief. For if a life, so very small, is spent in a strange land, and if love orders it to be so, it makes sense that the pen tires om writing down such pain. However, if by writing down that which my heart feels my pen should grow weary, may my memory never tire of flying to Zion. Blessed land, if anything should cause you to be removed om my soul, may my pen be relegated to perpetual oblivion. May the pain of this exile, which I desire to see sculpted in stone or in hard iron, never be heard of, as punishment for this error. And if I wish to sing, as a captive here in Babylon, [ 237 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

160

For when the great heaviness of longing breaks down my vital strength, I find it beer to die of sadness than to lessen it by singing.

Hierusalém, sem te ver, a voz, quando a mover, se me congele no peito. A minha língua se apegue às fauces, pois te perdi, se, enquanto viver assi, houver tempo em que te negue ou que me esqueça de ti. Mas ó tu, terra de Glória, se eu nunca vi tua essência, como me lembras na ausência? Não me lembras na memória, senão na reminiscência. Que a alma é tábua rasa, que, com a escrita doutrina celeste, tanto imagina, que voa da própria casa e sobe à pátria divina. Não é, logo, a saüdade das terras onde nasceu a carne, mas é do Céu, daquela santa cidade, donde esta alma descendeu. E aquela humana figura, que cá me pôde alterar, não é quem se há-de buscar: é raio da fermosura, que só se deve de amar. Que os olhos e a luz que ateia o fogo que cá sujeita, não do sol, mas da candeia, é sombra daquela Ideia que em Deus está mais perfeita. E os que cá me cativaram são poderosos afeitos que os corações têm sujeitos: sofistas que me ensinaram maus caminhos por direitos. [ 238 ]

200

205

210

215

220

225

230

But how, oh land of glory, if I’ve never seen your essence, do you come to me in absence? You don’t come to me as memory, but rather as reminiscence. e soul is a blank slate inscribed with celestial doctrine that can imagine itself flying om its present dwelling place and rising to its divine homeland. It feels no longing for the land where the flesh was born, but rather for heaven, for that holy City om which this particular soul descended. And that human figure who has so altered me is not the one for whom I should yearn: she is but a ray of the Beauty that should be the object of my love. For the eyes and the light that ignites the fire that here binds me (not the sun but merely a candle) are but a shadow of that Idea which is more perfect in God.121 And what has made me captive here are but powerful affects that hold the heart in their power; sophists who taught me that crooked paths were straight. [ 239 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

195

without seeing you, Jerusalem, may my voice, as I begin, be ozen within my chest. May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, as I have lost you, if while living here in this way I should ever deny you or forget you.

Destes o mando tirano me obriga, com desatino, a cantar ao som do dano cantares de amor profano por versos de amor divino. Mas eu, lustrado co santo Raio, na terra de dor, de confusão e d’espanto, como hei-de cantar o canto que só se deve ao Senhor? Tanto pode o benefício da Graça, que dá saúde, que ordena que a vida mude; e o que tomei por vício me fez grau para a virtude. E faz que este natural amor, que tanto se preza, suba da sombra real, da particular beleza para a Beleza geral. Fique logo pendurada a auta com que tangi, ó Hierusalém sagrada, e tome a lira dourada, para só cantar de ti! Não cativo e ferrolhado a Babilónia infernal, mas dos vícios desatado, e cá desta a ti levado, Pátria minha natural. E se eu mais der a cerviz a mundanos acidentes, duros, tiranos e urgentes, risque-se quanto já fiz do grão livro dos viventes. E tomando já na mão a lira santa e capaz doutra mais alta invenção, [ 240 ]

240

245

250

255

260

265

So powerful is the mercy of Grace that gives health and orders our life to alter its course; it makes that which I thought was vice a step that leads to virtue; and it makes this natural love122 that we so treasure rise om shadow to Reality, om the particular beauty to universal Beauty. So may the flute that I played remain hanging there, oh holy Jerusalem, and let me take up the golden lyre to sing only of you. Not as a captive chained up in infernal Babylon, but ee of all vices and taken up to you, my natural homeland. And should I again accept the yoke of mundane, harsh, tyrannical, and immediate accidents, strike all that I’ve done om the great book of the living. And as I take now in my hand the holy lyre capable of another, higher form of invention, [ 241 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

235

eir tyrannical power compels me, madly, to sing to my own detriment songs of profane love in place of verses of divine love. But how can I, enlightened by the holy Light in this land of pain, confusion, and horror, sing the song that is for the Lord alone?

cale-se esta confusão, cante-se a visão da paz. Ouça-me o pastor e o rei, retumbe este acento santo, mova-se no mundo espanto, que, do que já mal cantei, a palinódia já canto. A vós só me quero ir, Senhor e grão Capitão da alta torre de Sião, à qual não posso subir se me vós não dais a mão. No grão dia singular que na lira o douto som Hierusalém celebrar, lembrai-vos de castigar os ruins filhos de Edom. Aqueles que tintos vão no pobre sangue inocente, soberbos co poder vão, arrasai-os igualmente, conheçam que humanos são. E aquele poder tão duro dos afeitos com que venho, que encendem alma e engenho, que já me entraram o muro do livre alvídrio que tenho; estes, que tão furiosos gritando vêm a escalar-me, maus espíritos danosos, que querem como forçosos do alicerce derrubar-me; derrubai-os, fiquem sós, de forças acos, imbeles, porque não podemos nós nem com eles ir a Vós, nem sem Vós tirar-nos deles. [ 242 ]

275

280

285

290

may this confusion fall silent, may a vision of peace be sung. May the shepherd and the king hear me; may this holy rhythm resound and the world be amazed that of all I have sung I now sing a palinode. To you alone I wish to go, lord and great captain of Zion’s high tower, to which I cannot ascend if you do not give me your hand. On that great singular day, when on the lyre the learned rhythm glorifies Jerusalem, remember to punish the wicked children of Edom. ose who are stained with the innocent blood of the poor and swelled up with vain power, strike them all down equally, let them know that they are human.

300

And the ruthless power of those affections that dwell within me, that inflame my soul and wits, that have already breached the wall of my ee will; these evil and harmful spirits, furiously shouting, that come to lay siege to me, wishing by force to tear me down to my foundations,

305

Tear them down, leave them isolated, their forces weak and spent, because we can neither go to you with them nor without you break ee of them.

295

[ 243 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

270

Não basta minha aqueza, para me dar defensão, se vós, santo Capitão, nesta minha fortaleza não puserdes guarnição. E tu, ó carne que encantas, filha de Babel tão feia, toda de misérias cheia, que mil vezes te levantas contra quem te senhoreia: beato só pode ser quem co a ajuda celeste contra ti prevalecer, e te vier a fazer o mal que lhe tu fizeste; quem, com disciplina crua se fere mais que u˜a vez, cuja alma, de vícios nua, faz nódoas na carne sua, que já a carne n’alma fez; e beato quem tomar seus pensamentos recentes e em nacendo, os afogar, por não virem a parar em vícios graves e urgentes; quem com eles logo der na pedra do furor santo, e, batendo, os desfizer na Pedra, que veio a ser enfim cabeça do Canto; quem logo, quando imagina nos vícios da carne má, os pensamentos declina àquela Carne divina que na Cruz esteve já; quem do vil contentamento cá deste mundo visível, [ 244 ]

315

320

325

330

335

340

And you, enchanting flesh, hideous daughter of Babel so filled with miseries, you rise up a thousand times against your master: blessed is he only who with celestial help prevails against you and comes to harm you just as you once harmed him; who with brutal discipline wounds himself again and again, whose soul, stripped of vices, stains his flesh with bruises just as the flesh once stained his soul. And blessed is he who takes his esh thoughts and drowns them as they’re born so that they don’t come to rest on grave, urgent vices; who takes them and smashes them against the rock of saintly wrath, hiing them until they come apart on the rock that came to be, aer all, the foundation stone; who then, when he imagines the vices of the wicked flesh, inclines his thoughts toward that divine flesh that was once on the cross; who directs his understanding, as much as a human can, [ 245 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

310

My own weakness is not enough for me to defend myself if you, holy captain, don’t place a garrison within my fortress.

quanto ao homem for possível, passar logo o entendimento para o mundo inteligível; ali achará alegria em tudo perfeita e cheia de tão suave harmonia que nem, por pouca, recreia, nem, por sobeja, enfastia. Ali verá tão profundo mistério na suma alteza, que, vencida a natureza, os mores faustos do mundo julgue por maior baixeza. Ó tu, divino aposento, minha pátria singular! Se só com te imaginar tanto sobe o entendimento, que fará se em ti se achar? Ditoso quem se partir para ti, terra excelente, tão justo e tão penitente que, depois de a ti subir lá descanse eternamente.

Vinde cá, meu tão certo secretário Vinde cá, meu tão certo secretário dos queixumes que sempre ando fazendo, papel, com que a pena desafogo! As sem-razões digamos que, vivendo, me faz o inexorável e contrário Destino, surdo a lágrimas e a rogo. Deitemos água pouca em muito fogo; acenda-se com gritos um tormento que a todas as memórias seja estranho. Digamos mal tamanho a Deus, ao mundo, à gente e, enfim, ao vento, a quem já muitas vezes o contei, [ 246 ]

350

360

ere in the greatest heights he will see such profound mystery that, with nature now defeated, the greatest wonders of the world will seem to him completely vile. Oh you, divine dwelling place, my singular homeland! If only om imagining you my understanding so ascends, what will it do should it find itself in you?

365

Happy is he who leaves for you, excellent land, so just and penitent that, upon rising up to you, he may then rest there eternally.

355

Come Here, Paper—Trusted Confidant

5

10

Come here, paper—trusted confidant of all the continuous complaints by which I vent my suffering! Let’s proclaim the wrongs done to me, simply for living, by inexorable and contrary destiny, deaf to tears and entreaties. Let’s pour a bit of water onto a large fire; may a storm of wailings be stirred up such as has never been seen before. Let’s tell my enormous suffering to God, to the world, to all the people, and finally to the wind, to whom I have already spoken of my anguish [ 247 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

345

away om the base pleasures of this visible world and toward the intelligible world: there he will find happiness that is perfect and full, in all respects, of a gentle harmony that is never so light as to be merely entertaining nor so heavy that it induces tedium.

tanto debalde como o conto agora; mas, já que para errores fui nacido, vir este a ser um deles não duvido. Que, pois já de acertar estou tão fora, não me culpem também, se nisto errei. Sequer este refúgio só terei: falar e errar sem culpa, livremente. Triste quem de tão pouco está contente! Já me desenganei que de queixar-me não se alcança remédio; mas, quem pena forçado é gritar, se a dor é grande. Gritarei; mas é débil e pequena a voz para poder desabafar-me, por que nem com gritar a dor se abrande. Quem me dará sequer que fora a mande lágrimas e suspiros infinitos iguais ao mal que dentro n’alma mora? Mas quem pode algu˜a hora medir o mal com lágrimas ou gritos? Enfim, direi aquilo que me ensinam a ira, a mágoa, e delas a lembrança, que é outra dor por si, mais dura e firme. Chegai, desesperados, para ouvir-me, e fujam os que vivem de esperança ou aqueles que nela se imaginam, porque Amor e Fortuna determinam de lhe darem poder para entenderem, à medida dos males que tiverem. Quando vim da materna sepultura de novo ao mundo, logo me fizeram Estrelas infelices obrigado; com ter livre alvedrio, mo não deram, que eu conheci mil vezes na ventura o milhor; e pior segui, forçado. E, para que o tormento conformado me dessem com a idade, quando abrisse inda minino os olhos, brandamente, mandam que, diligente, um Minino sem olhos me ferisse. [ 248 ]

20

25

30

35

40

45

50

I’ve already come to know that by complaining I can receive no succor; but those who suffer are forced to shout if the pain is great. I will shout; but my voice is too weak and small for me to open my heart, because not even with shouting will the pain lessen. If only I could release the infinite tears and sighs that reside within my soul. But who can ever measure sorrow with tears or shouts? In the end, I will say what anger, anguish, and the memory of them have taught me to say— all of which is its own worse and more enduring pain. Come all without hope to hear me (and run far away those who live on hope or imagine themselves with it), because love and fortune have determined to give us power to understand in proportion to the pains that we have suffered. When I emerged om the maternal tomb newly into the world, unhappy stars soon constrained me. Having ee will, these stars denied me it. A thousand times I saw the best course but was forced to follow the worst. And so that my suffering should conform to my age, as soon as I soly opened my child’s eyes, they ordered that a child123 with no eyes should wound me. [ 249 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

15

numerous times, just as uselessly as I tell it now. Given that I was born to err, I have no doubt that this too is a mistake. However, since I am already so far beyond being right, may no one blame me if in this I have also erred. I will have only this refuge: to speak and err without blame, eely. Sad is the man who is content with so lile!

As lágrimas da infância já manavam com u˜a saudade namorada; o som dos gritos, que no berço dava, já como de suspiros me soava. Co a idade e Fado estava concertado; porque quando, por caso, me embalavam, se versos de Amor tristes me cantavam, logo me adormecia a natureza, que tão conforme estava co a tristeza. Foi minha ama u˜a fera, que o destino não quis que mulher fosse a que tivesse tal nome para mim; nem a haveria. Assi criado fui, porque bebesse o veneno amoroso, de minino, que na maior idade beberia e, por costume, não me mataria. Logo então vi a imagem e semelhança daquela humana fera tão fermosa, suave e venenosa, que me criou aos peitos da esperança: de quem eu vi despois o original, que de todos os grandes desatinos faz a culpa soberba e soberana. Parece-me que tinha forma humana, mas cintilava espíritos divinos. Um meneio e presença tinha tal que se vangloriava todo o mal na vista dela; a sombra, co a viveza, excedia o poder da Natureza. Não sei como sabia estar roubando cos raios as entranhas, que fugiam por ela, pelos olhos sutilmente! Pouco a pouco invencíveis me saíam, bem como do véu húmido exalando está o sutil humor o Sol ardente. Enfim, o gesto puro e transparente, para quem fica baixo e sem valia deste nome de belo e de fermoso, o doce e piadoso [ 250 ]

60

65

70

75

80

85

90

My nursemaid was a wild beast, as destiny could not allow that a woman might feed me, and that is how it turned out. In this way I was made to drink amorous venom as a child so that when I was older I might drink it habitually without suffering death. It was then also that I saw the image and likeness of that beautiful human beast, so and venomous, who would nurse me with the breasts of hope. I would later see the original, she who makes noble and magnificent the blame I carry for all my great follies. It seems to me that she had a human form but scintillated divine spirits. She had such grace and presence that all my suffering felt proud to be seen by her. Her shadow, with its vitality, surpassed the power of Nature. I don’t know how she was able to steal with her bolts my insides, which le me and went to her subtly through my eyes! Lile by lile they le me uncontrollably, much as when the humid earth exhales the subtle humor that rises to the burning sun. at is, her pure and transparent appearance, which causes words such as “beautiful” and “lovely” to fall away and lose their value, and the sweet and pious [ 251 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

55

My infant tears flowed already with amorous longing. e sound of the cries that emerged om my crib already sounded to me like sighs. I so conformed to my age and fate that when anyone rocked me while singing sad songs of love I would fall right asleep, so in tune was my nature to sadness.

mover de olhos, que as almas suspendia, foram as ervas mágicas, que o Céu me fez beber; as quais, por longos anos, noutro ser me tiveram transformado, e tão contente de me ver trocado que as mágoas enganava cos enganos, e diante dos olhos punha o véu que me encobrisse o mal, que assi creceu, como quem com afagos se criava daquele para quem crecido estava. Que género tão novo de tormento teve Amor, que não fosse, não somente provado em mim, mas todo executado? Implacáveis durezas, que o fervente desejo, que dá força ao pensamento, tinham de seu propósito abalado, e de se ver, corrido e injuriado. Aqui, sombras fantásticas, trazidas de algu˜as temerárias esperanças; as bem-aventuranças nelas também pintadas e fingidas; mas a dor do desprezo recebido, que a fantasia me desatinava, estes enganos punha em desconcerto; aqui, o adevinhar e o ter por certo que era verdade quanto adevinhava, e logo o desdizer-me, de corrido; dar às cousas que via outro sentido, e para tudo, enfim, buscar razões; mas eram muitas mais as sem-razões. Pois quem pode pintar a vida ausente, com um descontentar-me quanto via, e aquele estar tão longe donde estava, o falar, sem saber o que dezia, andar, sem ver por onde, e juntamente suspirar sem saber que suspirava? Pois quando aquele mal me atormentava e aquela dor que das tartáreas águas saiu ao mundo, e mais que todas dói, [ 252 ]

100

105

110

115

120

125

What new sort of torment did love conceive that wasn’t just tested on me, but fully executed? Implacable hardships shook the resolve of my fervent desire (which gives force to thoughts), and this desire saw itself run off and condemned; I saw fantastical shadows brought to me by fearful hopes— the joy in them also painted and false; but the pain of disdain received, which assailed my fantasy, rocked these illusions. Here, guessing and being certain that what I guessed was true, and then admiing that I was wrong, I now give another meaning to the things I saw, and for everything, finally, I look for reasons; but things that made no sense were much more numerous. So who might paint this absent life, with a sense of discontent about all I saw, and that sense of being distant no maer where I was, and speaking without knowing what I was saying, and moving without knowing where, and also to sigh without knowing that I was sighing? How oen that misery tormented me, and the pain that om the Tartarean124 waters came into the world (a pain that hurts more than any other), [ 253 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

95

movement of her eyes, which le souls in a state of suspension— these were the magical herbs that heaven made me drink; which, for many years, transformed me into another being, and so content was I to have been altered in this way that I fooled my sorrows with delusions; and before my eyes I placed the veil that hid torment om me—a torment that grew, nurtured as it was by the caresses of the person for whom it was conceived.

que tantas vezes sói duras iras tornar em brandas mágoas; agora, co furor da mágoa irado, querer e não querer deixar de amar, e mudar noutra parte por vingança o desejo privado de esperança, que tão mal se podia já mudar; agora, a saüdade do passado tormento, puro, doce e magoado, fazia converter estes furores em magoadas lágrimas de amores. Que desculpas comigo que buscava quando o suave Amor me não soia culpa na cousa amada, e tão amada! Enfim, eram remédios que fingia o medo do tormento que ensinava a vida a sustentar-se de enganada. Nisto u˜a parte dela foi passada; na qual, se tive algum contentamento breve, imperfeito, tímido, indecente, não foi senão semente de longo e amaríssimo tormento. Este curso contino de tristeza, estes passos tão vãmente espalhados, me foram apagando o ardente gosto, que tão de siso na alma tinha posto, daqueles pensamentos namorados em que eu criei a tenra natureza que, do longo costume da aspereza, contra quem força humana não resiste, se converteu no gosto de ser triste. Destarte a vida noutra fui trocando; eu não, mas o destino fero, irado, que eu ainda assi por outra a não trocara. Fez-me deixar o pátrio ninho amado, passando o longo mar, que ameaçando tantas vezes me esteve a vida cara. Agora, exprimentando a fúria rara de Marte, que cos olhos quis que logo [ 254 ]

135

140

145

150

155

160

165

a pain that tends to convert harsh anger into so sorrows; now, enraged with the fury of suffering, I wish and do not wish to cease loving, and to move to another object out of vengeance, this desire deprived of hope that cannot be moved. Now however, a longing for past torments, pure, sweet, and miserable, has converted these angry thoughts into the mournful tears of love. What excuses I searched for when gentle love did not allow me to find fault in my beloved, and how beloved! Finally, these were false remedies devised by the fear of torment to instruct my life to sustain itself through self-deception. In this a portion of that life was spent, in which there was some contentment— brief, imperfect, timid, indecent; and it was nothing but the seed of a long and extremely bier torment. is unending path of sadness, these steps so vainly tossed away, were erasing in me the ardent pleasure, which I had so carefully placed in my soul, associated with those thoughts of love that had given me my tender nature, which om the long habit of harshness, which human strength cannot resist, was transformed into the pleasure of being sad. In this way I exchanged my life for another; or rather harsh, angry destiny made the exchange, for I still would not have done so. It made me abandon my beloved homeland, crossing the distant sea, which so oen placed my dear life in extreme risk. Now, feeling the strange rage of Mars,125 who desired that I should see with my eyes [ 255 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

130

visse e tocasse o acerbo uto seu (e neste escudo meu a pintura verão do infesto fogo); agora, peregrino vago e errante, vendo nações, linguagens e costumes, céus vários, qualidades diferentes, só por seguir com passos diligentes a ti, Fortuna injusta, que consumes as idades, levando-lhe diante u˜a esperança em vista de diamante; mas quando das mãos cai, se conhece que é ágil vidro aquilo que aparece. A piadade humana me faltava, a gente amiga já contrária via, no primeiro perigo; e no segundo, terra em que pôr os pés me falecia, ar para respirar se me negava, e faltavam, enfim, o tempo e o mundo. Que segredo tão árduo e tão profundo: nacer para viver, e para a vida faltar-me quanto o mundo tem para ela; e não poder perdê-la, estando tantas vezes já perdida! Enfim, não houve transe de fortuna, nem perigos, nem casos duvidosos, injustiças daqueles, que o confuso regimento do mundo, antigo abuso, faz sobre os outros homens poderosos, que eu não passasse, atado à grã coluna do soimento meu, que a importuna perseguição de males em pedaços mil vezes fez, à força de seus braços. Não conto tantos males como aquele que, depois da tormenta procelosa, os casos dela conta em porto ledo; que ainda agora a Fortuna flutuosa a tamanhas misérias me compele, que de dar um só passo tenho medo.

[ 256 ]

175

180

185

190

195

200

205

and touch his bier uit (and on my shield you will see the image of his vicious fire), now I am an aimless and wandering pilgrim, seeing nations, languages, and customs, varied skies, different qualities, only to follow you with diligent steps, unjust fortune, you who consume the years of our lives, bringing to us a hope that appears a diamond but that, when it falls om our hands, reveals itself to be agile glass. Human piety failed me, and those iendly to me turned away at the first sign of danger; and at the second, the earth beneath my feet slipped away. I was le without air to breathe, and I was denied even time and the world. What a difficult and deep secret: to be born in order to live, and to be denied so much of what the world offers to the living! And yet I cannot lose that life, even though I am so profoundly lost! Finally, there was no trial of fortune, nor danger, nor doubtful situation, nor injustice, that the confused ordering of the world (ancient abuse) presents to powerful men that I did not experience, tied to the great column of my suffering, which the importunate persecution of sufferings broke into pieces a thousand times by the force of its embrace. I don’t recount my sufferings like the person who, aer the furious storm, tells of its dangers once safely in port. Even now fluctuating fortune compels me to such miseries that I am aaid to take a single step.

[ 257 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

170

Já de mal que me venha não me arredo, nem bem que me faleça já pretendo, que para mim não val astúcia humana; de força soberana, da Providência, enfim, divina pendo. Isto que cuido e vejo, às vezes tomo para consolação de tantos danos. Mas a aqueza humana, quando lança os olhos no que corre, e não a alcança senão memória dos passados anos, as águas que então bebo, e o pão que como, lágrimas tristes são, que eu nunca domo senão com fabricar na fantasia fantásticas pinturas de alegria. Que se possível fosse que tornasse o tempo para trás, como a memória, pelos vestígios da primeira idade, e de novo tecendo a antiga história de meus doces errores, me levasse pelas flores que vi da mocidade; e a lembrança da longa saudade então fosse maior contentamento, vendo a conversação leda e suave, onde u˜a e outra chave esteve de meu novo pensamento, os campos, as passadas, os sinais, a fermosura, os olhos, a brandura, a graça, a mansidão, a cortesia, a sincera amizade, que desvia toda a baixa tenção, terrena, impura, como a qual outra algu˜a não vi mais . . . Ah! vãs memórias, onde me levais o aco coração, que ainda não posso domar este tão vão desejo vosso? No mais, Canção, no mais; que irei falando, sem o sentir, mil anos. E se acaso te culparem de larga e de pesada, “Não pode ser,” lhe dize, “limitada

[ 258 ]

215

220

225

230

235

240

If only it were possible for time to turn back like my memory, back to the vestiges of my early childhood, and, reweaving the old story of my errors, take me back through the flowers of my youth; and the memory of protracted longing should then bring greater contentment, seeing the happy and gentle conversation, where the keys to my new thoughts rested: the fields, her steps, her aspect, her beauty, her eyes, her gentleness, her grace, her meekness, her courtesy, her sincere iendship, which drives away all low, earthly, impure temptations, like no other I have ever seen . . . Ah, vain memories, where do you take my weak heart? Do you see that I still cannot control this vain desire of yours? No more, song, no more. I will continue to talk for a thousand years without feeling it. And should anyone ever fault you for being long and gloomy, tell him, “One cannot hold

[ 259 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

210

I won’t aempt to dodge the evil that may come to me, and I do not hope for any good that is wanting, since for me human astuteness has no value. I depend rather on the sovereign force of providence. is thought at times offers me consolation om so many injuries. But human weakness, when it casts its eyes upon that which passes and catches nothing but the memory of the years gone by, the water that I then drink, and the bread that I eat, are but sad tears that I can never stop except by constructing in my mind fantastical images of happiness.

a água do mar em tão pequeno vaso.” Nem eu delicadezas vou cantando co gosto do louvor, mas explicando puras verdades já por mim passadas. Oxalá foram fábulas sonhadas!

[ 260 ]

the sea’s water in so small a vase.” Nor am I singing of delicacies in order to gain praise, but explaining the truth that I have lived. Would that they were but dreamed-up stories!

[ 261 ]

* Luís Vaz de Camões *

245

part iii

Bacchus

Vertido Baco, el fuerte arnés afea. Lope de Vega, “Al triunfo de Judit”

Diego Velázquez, e Triumph of Bacchus (before 1629). 165 × 225 cm. Photograph: Aledo Dagli Orti / e Art Archive at Art Resource, New York.

miguel de cervantes saavedra (1547–1616)

Born in 1547 in Alcalá de Henares, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra was the son of Rodrigo de Cervantes, a surgeon, and Leonor de Cortinas. During a brief military career, Cervantes fought against the Turks in the Bale of Lepanto (1571) and lost the use of his le hand as a result. On his return trip to the Iberian Peninsula in 1575, Muslim pirates captured him and his brothers. He consequently spent five years as a captive in Algiers. Aer returning home, he was denied a post as an officer in the Indies. Later on, he began working as a tax collector, and he was jailed in Seville on charges of embezzlement. Shortly before his death in 1616, he took vows in the ird Franciscan Order in Madrid. Cervantes’s magnum opus is undoubtedly Don Quijote (1605; 1615), a work considered by many to be the first modern novel and perhaps the most influential work of the entire Western canon. In spite of his success with Quijote, Cervantes had been writing poetry long before composing this long prose work. In 1567 he published a sonnet in honor of the birth of Princess Catalina, and under the tutelage of Juan López de Hoyos, he published four poems in a 1569 volume meant to memorialize Queen Isabel of Valois. Later in his life, in addition to publishing several plays, a Byzantine novel titled Persiles y Segismunda (Persiles and Segismunda), and a collection of short stories bearing the somewhat cryptic title Novelas ejemplares (Exemplary tales), he composed his Viaje al Parnaso (1614; Journey to Parnassus), an allegory in verse that mocks the poseurs of Iberian leers. e Viaje begins with a prologue to the reader that more or less sets the tone: “Si por ventura, Lector curioso, eres poeta, y llegare á tus manos (aunque pecadoras) este Viage, si te hallares en él escrito, y notado entre los buenos poetas, da gracias á Apolo por la merced que te hizo; y si no te hallares, tambien se las puedes dar. Y Dios te guarde” ‘If by chance, [ 264 ]

curious Reader, you’re a poet and this Journey has arrived in your hands (those of a sinner though they be), and you find yourself listed in it among the good poets, then give thanks to Apollo for the mercy that he has shown you; and if you don’t find yourself listed in it, then you should also give him thanks. And may God protect you.’126 e poems by Cervantes contained in this anthology do not come om the Viaje. ey come instead om his Poesías sueltas (Collected poems), which modern scholars have assembled by carefully siing through manuscripts held in various archives throughout Spain.

[ 265 ]

Voto a Dios que me espanta esta grandeza al túmulo del rey felipe ii en sevilla “Voto a Dios que me espanta esta grandeza y que diera un doblón por describilla; porque ¿a quién no sorprende y maravilla esta máquina insigne, esta riqueza? “Por Jesucristo vivo, cada pieza vale más que un millón, y que es mancilla que esto no dure un siglo, ¡oh gran Sevilla!, Roma triunfante en ánimo y nobleza. “Apostaré que el ánima del muerto por gozar este sitio hoy ha dejado la gloria, donde vive eternamente.” Esto oyó un valentón, y dijo: “Es cierto cuanto dice voacé, señor soldado. Y quien dijere lo contrario, miente.” Y luego, incontinente, caló el chapeo, requirió la espada, miró al soslayo, fuése, y no hubo nada.

Maestro era de esgrima Campuzano a un ermitaño Maestro era de esgrima Campuzano, de espada y daga diestro a maravilla rebanada narices en Castilla, y siempre le quedaba el brazo sano. Quiso pasarse a Indias un verano, y vino con Montalvo, el de Sevilla; cojo quedó de un pie de la rencilla, tuerto de un ojo, manco de una mano.

[ 266 ]

at the tomb of king felipe ii in seville “I vow by God that all this grandeur startles me, and I’d give a doubloon to describe it; for who is not surprised and does not marvel at this great machine, all this bluster? 5 “By Christ alive, each piece

is worth more than a million, and it’s a shame that all this won’t last a century, oh great Seville, Rome triumphant in spirit and nobility!

10

“I’ll wager that the soul of the deceased, to enjoy this place today, has le heaven where he lives eternally.” A blowhard heard this and said: “You’ve spoken the truth, Mr. Soldier. And whoever says anything to the contrary lies.”

15

And then, right away, he pulled down his hat, grabbed his sword, looked sideways, went away, and there was nothing.

Campuzano Was a Fencing Master to a hermit Campuzano was a fencing master, marvelously skilled with sword and dagger; he split noses in Castile and his arm always remained unscathed. He went to the Indies one summer and bumped into Montalvo of Seville: a quarrel le him lame in one foot, blind in one eye, and without the use of a hand.

[ 267 ]

* Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra *

I Vow by God at All is Grandeur Startles Me

Vínose a recoger a aquesta ermita con su palo en la mano y su rosario, y su ballesta de matar pardales. Y con su Madalena, que le quita mil canas, está hecho un San Hilario. ¡Ved cómo nacen bienes de los males!

Yace en la parte que es mejor de España a lope de vega, en su dragontea Yace en la parte que es mejor de España una apacible y siempre verde vega, a quien Apolo su favor no niega, pues con las aguas de Helicón lo baña. Júpiter, labrador por grande hazaña, su ciencia todo en cultivar la entrega; Cilenio, alegre, en ella se sosiega; Minerva eternamente la acompaña. Las Musas su Parnaso en ella han hecho; Venus, honesta, en ella aumenta y cría la santa multitud de los amores; y así, con gusto y general provecho, nuevos utos oece cada día de ángeles, de armas, santos y pastores.

[ 268 ]

And with his Magdalene,128 who rids him of a thousand gray hairs, he’s become a Saint Hillary.129 See how good things come om bad!

Lying in the Best Part of Spain to lope de vega, in his dragontea 130 Lying in the best part of Spain is a tranquil and always fertile plain131 to whom Apollo132 does not deny favor, but bathes it in the waters of Helicon.133 Jupiter,134 that great plowman, delivers to it all his science of cultivation; in it happy Cyllenus135 finds calm; Minerva136 eternally accompanies it. In it the muses have made their Parnassus;137 there honest Venus138 increases and raises the holy multitude of her loves; and so, with pleasure and general profit, it offers each day new uits of angels, weapons, saints, and shepherds.

[ 269 ]

* Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra *

He came to take up this hermitage with a stick in his hand, a rosary, and a crossbow for killing sparrows.127

lope félix de vega y carpio (1562–1635)

Born in Madrid to a family of relatively humble social status, Lope de Vega received his formal education at a Jesuit school before studying at the University of Alcalá de Henares. During a brief military career, he involved himself in both the conquest of the Azorean island of Terceira (1583) and the Spanish Armada that would suffer defeat at the hands of the English in 1588. He was married twice, first to Isabel Ampuero de Alderete Díaz de Rojas y Urbina and then to Juana de Guardo, and he wore various professional hats throughout his life, playing the part of playwright, poet, soldier, and secretary, and even taking holy vows in 1614. Lope was famously exiled om Madrid for ten years for the poetic defamation he launched against the father of Elena Osorio. To say that Lope de Vega had a prolific literary career is perhaps an understatement. In addition to referring to him as the “Fénix de los ingenios y monstruo de la naturaleza” ‘Phoenix of wits and monster of nature,’ Miguel de Cervantes plays with the word “vega” in his sonnet “A Lope de Vega, en su Dragontea” (“To Lope de Vega, in his Dragontea”) to liken Lope to a “tranquil and always fertile plain.” Although Cervantes has since achieved greater literary fame than Lope, this was not the case during the men’s lifetimes, and it is well known that Lope was the envy of Cervantes as well as of other Spanish writers of the time. Lope de Vega is widely considered to be among the most successful (and most prolific) of Iberian playwrights and poets. He composed more than 1,500 works of theater in his lifetime, 468 of which are extant. He also wrote over 3,000 sonnets, four novels, nine epics, three didactic poems, and various other prose works. Of particular importance is his Arte nuevo de hacer comedias

[ 270 ]

(1609; e new art of writing plays), in which he seeks to defend his style of theater before the Academy of Madrid, placing special importance on keeping the audience engaged. Along with Francisco de Quevedo and Luis de Góngora, Lope de Vega is considered to be one of the three giants of Castilian baroque lyric.

[ 271 ]

Vierte racimos la gloriosa palma Vierte racimos la gloriosa palma y sin amor se pone estéril luto; Dafnes se queja en su laurel sin uto, Narciso en blancas hojas se desalma. Está la tierra sin la lluvia en calma, viles hierbas produce el campo enjuto; porque nunca pagó al Amor tributo, gime en su piedra de Anaxarte el alma. Oro engendra el amor de agua y de arenas, porque las conchas aman el rocío, quedan de perlas orientales llenas. No desprecies, Lucinda hermosa, el mío, que al trasponer del sol, las azucenas pierden el lustre y nuestra edad el brío.

Un soneto me manda hacer Violante soneto de repente Un soneto me manda hacer Violante, que en mi vida me he visto en tanto aprieto; catorce versos dicen que es soneto: burla burlando van los tres delante. Yo pensé que no hallara consonante y estoy a la mitad de otro cuarteto, mas si me veo en el primer terceto, no hay cosa en los cuartetos que me espante. Por el primer terceto voy entrando, y parece que entré con pie derecho, pues fin con este verso le doy dando.

[ 272 ]

e glorious palm sheds its leaves and lovelessly dresses itself in barren mourning; Daphne complains in her uitless laurel,139 Narcissus sheds his soul in white leaves.140 e land is calm without the rain, the dry field produces foul weeds; because she never paid tribute to Love, Anaxarte’s soul moans within its stone.141 Gold engenders love of water and sand; because oyster shells love the dew, they fill with Oriental pearls. Don’t reject my love, beautiful Lucinda,142 for as the sun goes down, lilies lose their luster and our age its spirit.

Violante Orders Me to Compose a Sonnet sonnet all of a sudden Violante orders me to compose a sonnet— and in my life I’ve never been so pressed; fourteen verses they say make up a sonnet: before you know it, there are those three in ont. I thought I wouldn’t get this far but now I’m in the middle of another quartet, and if I can just get to the first tercet, the quartets won’t worry me anymore. Now I’m entering into the first tercet, and it seems that I’ve made a good start, as I’m ending it with this verse.

[ 273 ]

* Lope Félix de Vega Carpio *

e Glorious Palm Sheds Its Leaves

Ya estoy en el segundo, y aun sospecho que voy los trece versos acabando; contad si son catorce, y está hecho.

Cuelga sangriento de la cama al suelo al triunfo de judit Cuelga sangriento de la cama al suelo el hombro diestro del feroz tirano, que opuesto al muro de Betulia en vano, despidió contra sí rayos al cielo. Revuelto con el ansia el rojo velo del pabellón a la siniestra mano, descubre el espectáculo inhumano del tronco horrible convertido en hielo. Vertido Baco, el fuerte arnés afea los vasos y la mesa derribada, duermen las guardas, que tan mal emplea; y sobre la muralla coronada del pueblo de Israel, la casta hebrea con la cabeza resplandece armada.

¿Qué tengo yo que mi amistad procuras? ¿Qué tengo yo que mi amistad procuras? ¿Qué interés se te sigue, Jesús mío, que a mi puerta, cubierto de rocío pasas las noches del invierno escuras? ¡Oh, cuánto fueron mis entrañas duras, pues no te abrí! ¡Qué estraño desvarío si de mi ingratitud el yelo ío secó las llagas de tus plantas puras!

[ 274 ]

e Bloody Right Shoulder of the Ferocious Tyrant to the triumph of judith 143 e bloody right shoulder of the ferocious tyrant hangs om the bed to the ground; he vainly aacked Bethulia’s wall and hurled bolts of lightning toward heaven, against himself. Disordered in his agony, the red veil of the pavilion discloses, on the le, the inhuman spectacle of his horrible torso turned to ice. Spilled wine stains his strong armor, the glasses, and the overturned table; the useless guards are asleep; and on the crowned wall of the people of Israel, the chaste Hebrew woman is resplendent, armed with his head.

Why Is It at You Seek My Friendship? Why is it that you seek my iendship? What interest is following you, my Jesus, that at my door, covered in dew, you spend the dark winter nights? Oh, how hard were my insides, that I didn’t open for you! What awful nonsense if because of my ingratitude the cold ice dried the wounds of your pure feet!

[ 275 ]

* Lope Félix de Vega Carpio *

I’m already into the second tercet, and I suspect that I’ve finished thirteen verses; count to see if I’m at fourteen, and it’s done.

¡Cuántas veces el Angel me decía: “Alma, asómate agora a la ventana, verás con cuánto amor llamar porfía”! ¡Y cuántas, hermosura soberana: “Mañana le abriremos,” respondía, para lo mismo responder mañana!

Mira, Zaide, que te digo “Mira, Zaide, que te digo que no pases por mi calle ni hables con mis mujeres, ni con mis cautivos trates, ni preguntes en qué entiendo ni quién viene a visitarme, qué fiestas me dan contento o qué colores me aplacen; basta que son por tu causa las que en el rostro me salen, corrida de haber mirado moro que tan poco sabe. Confieso que eres valiente, que hiendes, rajas y partes, y que has muerto más cristianos que tienes gotas de sangre; que eres gallardo jinete, que danzas, cantas y tañes, gentil hombre, bien criado cuanto puede imaginarse; blanco, rubio por extremo, señalando por linaje, el gallo de las bravatas, la nata de los donaires; y pierdo mucho en perderte y gano mucho en amarte, y que si nacieras mudo, fuera posible adorarte; y por este inconveniente determino de dejarte, [ 276 ]

And how many times, sovereign beauty, I responded, “Tomorrow we’ll open to him,” only to answer the same way the next day!

Look, Zaide, For I Tell You

5

10

15

20

25

30

“Look, Zaide, for I tell you not to pass by my street; don’t talk with my women, and don’t deal with my captives; don’t ask what I know, nor who comes to visit me, what parties make me happy, nor what colors I like. It’s enough that it’s because of you that these tears pour down my face; I am downtrodden for having seen a Moor who knows so lile. I confess that you are brave, that you split, slice, and crack open others, and that you have killed more Christians than you have drops of blood; that you are a gallant horseman, that you dance, sing, and play music, you are a gentleman, as well educated as one can imagine: white, supremely blond, om the noblest of lineages, a fearless intimidator, the image of grace and discretion; I lose much in losing you and I gain much in loving you, for if you were born mute it would still be possible to adore you; but for precisely this problem I’ve determined to leave you: [ 277 ]

* Lope Félix de Vega Carpio *

How many times the angel would say to me, “Soul, go over to the window now, you’ll see how he keeps calling with so much love!”

que eres pródigo de lengua y amargan tus libertades; y habrá menester ponerte quien quisiere sustentarte un alcázar en el pecho y en los labios un alcaide. Mucho pueden con las damas los galanes de tus partes, porque los quieren briosos, que rompan y que desgarren; mas tras esto, Zaide amigo, si algún convite te hacen al plato de sus favores, quieren que comas y calles. Costoso fue el que te hice; venturoso fueras, Zaide, si conservarme supieras como supiste obligarme. Apenas fuiste salido de los jardines de Tarfe, cuando hiciste de la tuya y de mi desdicha alarde. A un morito mal nacido me dicen que le enseñaste la trenza de los cabellos que te puse en el turbante; no quiero que me la vuelvas, ni quiero que me la guardes, mas quiero que entiendas, moro, que en mi desgracia la traes. También me certificaron cómo le desafiaste por las verdades que dijo, que nunca fueran verdades. De mala gana me río: ¡qué donoso disparate! no guardas tú tu secreto ¿y quieres que otro le guarde? No quiero admitir disculpa, otra vez vuelvo a avisarte que éste será la postrera [ 278 ]

40

45

50

55

60

65

70

[ 279 ]

* Lope Félix de Vega Carpio *

35

you are loose with your tongue and your ivolities embier; it would be necessary for whoever wished to be with you to set a fortress upon your breast and upon your lips its captain of the guard. e young men om your land are successful with women because we like men to be vigorous, we like them to blaze the trail and to stand out; but along with this, Zaide my love, if we prepare them a banquet om the plate of our favors, we want them to eat and remain silent. What I’ve done has cost me dearly; how happy you would have been, Zaide, had you known how to care for me as well as you knew how to oblige me. Scarcely had you le the gardens of Atarfe when you made of our disgrace an unbecoming display. I discovered that you showed an ill-bred lile boy the braid of my hair that I placed in your turban. I don’t want you to give it back nor should you keep it, but I want you to understand, moro, that it is to my disgrace that you carry it. ey’ve also told me how you defied him, claiming that the truths he told were not true. Grudgingly I laugh; what charming nonsense! You didn’t keep your secret, and you want someone else to keep it? I won’t accept your apology; once again I return to warn you that this will be the last time

que me hables y te hable.” Dijo la discreta Zaida a un altivo bencerraje, y al despedirle repite: “Quien tal hace que tal pague.”

Mirando está las cenizas Mirando está las cenizas de aquel Saguntino fuego, los vanos Anfiteatros, vivos ejemplos del tiempo, Belardo, que allí llegó con sus cabras y becerros, antes morador del Tajo y ya del río Monviedro. Y viendo entre sus ruinas del tiempo tantos ejemplos así le dice, llorando sobre un peñasco de pechos: “¿Quién se ha de poner contigo a fuerza, tiempo ligero, teniendo tantos testigos de tus poderosos hechos? ¡Qué acabaste de ciudades! ¡Qué deshiciste de imperios! ¡Qué de triunfos que has traído a sepultura de muertos! Los mármoles que cubrían, de púrpura y oro llenos, yacen por el suelo ahora de inútil yerba cubiertos. Aquí, donde recitadas alegres comedias fueron, unos alegres sombríos está recitando el tiempo. Y el lugar que tan apriesa ocuparon sus asientos, a mis cabras lo agradezca, que su yerba están paciendo, [ 280 ]

Belardo Is Looking at the Ashes

5

10

15

20

25

30

Belardo is looking at the ashes of that Saguntine fire,144 the vain amphitheaters striking examples of the passing of time; he arrived there with his goats and calves; formerly a resident by the Tagus, and then beside the Mombiedro River, he has seen in its ruins many examples of the passing of time. He says to the ruins of Saguntum, weeping upon a rocky crag that serves in lieu of a breast: “Who can beat you by force, swi time, with so many witnesses to your powerful deeds? You finished off cities, you undid empires, you have turned triumphs into sepulchres for the dead! e marble that once covered this city, full of purple and gold, now lies on the ground covered in useless grass. Here, where lively comedies were recited, time now recites lively gloom, and the place where its seats were so quickly filled, may my goats be grateful, for they are grazing on its grass, [ 281 ]

* Lope Félix de Vega Carpio *

that I talk to you and you talk to me.” e discreet Zaide said this to the proud Abencerraje, 75 and as he leaves she repeats: “Who calls the tune must pay the piper.”

y sólo de sus balidos por derribados cimientos estas bóvedas escuchan tristes y espantables ecos. No pienses que soy, Sagunto, Belisardo ni Pompeyo, pero soy un desterrado por uno de tus sucesos. Que como la piedra cae y sube a su esfera el fuego, he venido a este lugar como a verdadero centro. Ya fuiste ciudad insigne, y fui yo dichoso un tiempo, tus mármoles levantabas, y yo mi ventura al cielo. Tú por ser buena ciudad, yo por ciudadano bueno, ambos en el suelo estamos, tú difunta, yo muriendo. Sobra de malos amigos en este lugar me han puesto, tu muerte fue honrada vida, pues fue de enemigos buenos. Por haber sido agradable a tan inclemente cielo, me pagan desta manera que ves, que penado muero. Consuélate, ciudad mía, pues en tus manos me han puesto en agradable prisión yerros de mi proprio dueño.

[ 282 ]

40

45

50

55

60

[ 283 ]

* Lope Félix de Vega Carpio *

35

and the only thing that these vaults hear are the sad and ightening echoes of their bleats as they pass through demolished foundations. Saguntum, don’t think that I am Belisardo145 or Pompey,146 but I am an exile, banished by one of your acts. As stone falls and fire rises to its sphere, I have come to this place as to a true center. You were a distinguished city, and I was fortunate for a time; you lied your marble and I my fortune to the sky. Because you were a good city and I was a good citizen, we are both on the ground: you deceased, I dying. Many bad iends have put me in this place; your death was honorable, as it came om worthy enemies. For having been pleasant in the face of such inclement skies, they pay me in this way that you see: I die in pain. Console yourself, my city, as it was the errors of my own master that have placed me in your hands, in this pleasant prison.

luis de góngora y argote (1561–1627)

Born in Córdoba to the judge don Francisco de Argote and his wife, doña Leonor de Góngora, Luis de Góngora began studying law at the University of Salamanca in 1576. Less than four years later he published his first poem, a gloss on Gómez de Tapia’s elegy for Luís de Camões’s Os Lusíadas. By the time he completed his studies and returned to Córdoba in 1580, he had already acquired considerable poetic fame. In 1586 he became a deacon of the Cathedral of Nuestra Señora de la Asunción in Córdoba (perhaps beer known as the Great Mosque of Córdoba); in 1605 he was ordained a priest, and soon aerward he moved to Madrid. Despite being reprimanded by his bishop for achieving poetic celebrity status, Góngora continued composing poetry and was admired and respected. Feared by Lope de Vega and openly hated by Francisco de Quevedo, Góngora craed a style of poetry that is commonly referred to as gongorismo or culteranismo (a combination of the words culto, or “learned,” and luteranismo, or “Lutheranism,” which was seen as heresy at the time). It challenged contemporary notions of linguistic expression by incorporating neologisms derived om Latin and Greek, violent enjambments, exaggerated hyperbaton, periphrasis, and lesser-known classical myths into his poetic compositions. Góngora’s influence over poetic composition throughout the Iberian Peninsula (and the Americas) during the seventeenth century is difficult to overstate. Although he died in 1627 without having published his complete works, Juan López de Vicuña gathered them up for him and published them in 1627 under the title Obras en verso del Homero español (Verse works of the Spanish Homer).

[ 285 ]

Mientras por competir con tu cabello Mientras por competir con tu cabello, oro bruñido al sol relumbra en vano; mientras con menosprecio en medio el llano mira tu blanca ente el lilio bello; mientras a cada labio, por cogello, siguen más ojos que al clavel temprano, y mientras triunfa con desdén lozano del luciente cristal tu gentil cuello; goza cuello, cabello, labio y ente, antes que lo que fue en tu edad dorada oro, lilio, clavel, cristal luciente, no sólo en plata o vïola troncada se vuelva, mas tú y ello juntamente en tierra, en humo, en polvo, en sombra, en nada.

Cual parece al romper de la mañana Cual parece al romper de la mañana aljófar blanco sobre escas rosas, o cual por manos hecha artificiosas bordadura de perlas sobre grana, tales de mi pastora soberana parecían las lágrimas hermosas sobre las dos mejillas milagrosas, de quien mezcladas leche y sangre mana, lanzando a vueltas de su tierno llanto un ardiente suspiro de su pecho, tal que el más duro canto enterneciera: si enternecer bastara un duro canto, mirad qué habrá con un corazón hecho, que al llanto y al suspiro fue de cera. [ 286 ]

While to compete with your hair, gold burnished in the sun gleams in vain; while with disdain, in the middle of the plain, your white brow regards the beautiful lily; while each of your lips is pursued by more eyes than follow the early carnation; and while with proud disdain your noble neck triumphs over bright crystal: enjoy neck, hair, lip, and brow, before what was in your golden youth gold, lily, carnation, and bright crystal, not only turns into silver or a crushed violet, but you and all of it together into earth, smoke, dust, shadow, nothing.147

Just as at the Break of Day Just as at the break of day white pearls148 appear upon cool roses, oh, as pearls embroidered with skillful art appear upon crimson cloth, so appeared the lovely tears of my sovereign shepherdess upon her miraculous cheeks, a flowing mixture of milk and blood, emiing along with tender crying an ardent sigh om her breast, such as would soen the hardest stone; and if it could soen a hard stone, imagine what it has done to a heart already wax to tears and sighs. [ 287 ]

* Luis de Góngora y Argote *

While to Compete with Your Hair

La dulce boca que a gustar convida La dulce boca que a gustar convida un humor entre perlas destilado, y a no invidiar aquel licor sagrado que a Júpiter ministra el garzón de Ida, amantes, no toquéis si queréis vida, porque entre un labio y otro colorado Amor está, de su veneno armado, cual entre flor y flor sierpe escondida. No os engañen las rosas, que a la Aurora diréis que, aljofaradas y olorosas, se le cayeron del purpúreo seno: manzanas son de Tántalo, y no rosas, que después huyen dél que incitan ahora, y sólo del Amor queda el veneno.

En este occidental, en este, oh Licio En este occidental, en este, oh Licio, climatérico lustro de tu vida, todo mal afirmado pie es caída, toda fácil caída es precipicio. ¿Caduca el paso? Ilústrese el jüicio. Desatándose va la tierra unida; ¿qué prudencia, del polvo prevenida, la rüina aguardó del edificio? La piel no sólo, sierpe venenosa, mas con la piel los años se desnuda, y el hombre, no. ¡Ciego discurso humano! ¡Oh aquel dichoso que, la ponderosa porción depuesta en una piedra muda, la leve da al zafiro soberano! [ 288 ]

e sweet mouth that invites you to enjoy a humor distilled between pearls, and not to envy the sacred liquor that Ida’s boy administers to Jupiter,149 lovers, do not touch if you want life: because between one colored lip and another, Love is armed with its venom, a snake hidden among flowers. Do not be fooled by the roses that at dawn (pearled and scented, you’ll say), fell om your lover’s crimson breast. Apples of Tantalus150 they are, and not roses, that later flee om the one that they now incite; and all that remains of love is the venom.

In is Occidental, Oh Licio In this Occidental,151 oh Licio,152 in this climacteric age of your life, each uncertain step leads to a fall, and each simple fall a precipice. Does your step falter? Use your mind. e world itself is coming undone. What prudence, once warned by dust, ever awaited the ruin of the edifice? e venomous snake sheds not only its skin, but with its skin its old age, but man cannot. Blind human thought! Oh, that happy man who lays his heavy portion to rest in silent stone and binds the lighter to the sovereign sapphire! [ 289 ]

* Luis de Góngora y Argote *

e Sweet Mouth at Invites You

Mientras Corinto, en lágrimas deshecho Mientras Corinto, en lágrimas deshecho, la sangre de su pecho vierte en vano, vende Lice a un decrépito indïano por cien escudos la mitad del lecho. ¿Quién, pues, se maravilla de este hecho, sabiendo que halla ya paso más llano, la bolsa abierta, el rico pelicano, que el pelícano pobre, abierto el pecho? Interés, ojos de oro como gato, y gato de doblones, no Amor ciego, que leña y plumas gasta, cien arpones le flechó, de la aljaba de un talego. ¿Qué Tremecén no desmantela un trato, arrimándole al trato cien cañones?

De la florida falda a una dama, presentándole unas flores De la florida falda que hoy de perlas bordó la Alba luciente, tejidos en guirnalda traslado estos jazmines a tu ente, que piden, con ser flores, blanco a tus sienes, y a tu boca, olores. Guarda destos jazmines de abejas era un escuadrón volante, ronco sí de clarines, mas de puntas armado, de diamante; púselas en hüida, y cada flor me cuesta una herida.

[ 290 ]

While Corinth, undone in tears, vainly spills the blood om her breast,153 Lyce sells half of her bed to a decrepit Indian for a hundred escudos.154 Who marvels at this fact, knowing that the rich pelican with an open purse finds a much smoother path than the poor pelican with an open breast? Interest, eyes golden like a cat, and a cat-bag of doubloons, and not blind Love, who wastes wood and feathers, shot a hundred arrows into Lyce om his coin-purse quiver. What Tlemcen155 doesn’t abrogate a treaty when faced with a hundred cannons?

From the Flowery Slope to a lady, upon presenting to her some flowers

5

10

From the flowery slope that today the bright dawn bordered with pearls, weaving them into a garland, I transfer these jasmine flowers to your brow; which, being flowers, ask for whiteness om your temples and perfume om your mouth. Guardian of these jasmine flowers was a flying squadron of bees that made lile sound but were armed with diamond stingers; I chased them off, and each flower came with a wound.

[ 291 ]

* Luis de Góngora y Argote *

While Corinth, Undone in Tears

Más, Clori, que he tejido jazmines al cabello desatado, y más besos te pido que abejas tuvo el escuadrón armado; lisonjas son iguales servir yo en flores, pagar tú en panales.

[ 292 ]

[ 293 ]

* Luis de Góngora y Argote *

15

Clori, more numerous than the jasmine flowers that I have woven into your flowing hair are the kisses that I ask of you, and more numerous than the bees in the armed squadron; these flaeries are equal: I serve you in flowers, and you pay me in honey.

francisco rodrigues lobo (1580–1622)

Francisco Rodrigues Lobo was born in Leiria, Portugal, to a family of Jewish ancestry. e son of André Luís Lobo and Isabel Lopes, Rodrigues Lobo resided in Leiria for almost his entire life, except for the time that he spent studying law at the University of Coimbra. In Inquisition documents trying his brother, sister, uncle, and cousin for various offenses related to the practice of Judaism, Rodrigues Lobo is not himself mentioned. Only forty-two when he died, Rodrigues Lobo drowned when the boat he was traveling in between Lisbon and Santarém sank in the Tagus River. Rodrigues Lobo began his career writing extensively in Castilian, and he came to be strongly influenced by Francisco de Sá de Miranda, Gil Vicente, and Luís de Camões, whose successor he saw himself to be, at least in terms of pastoral and lyric expression. e influence of Luis de Góngora is also evident in Rodrigues Lobo, especially with respect to poetic form and structure. Important literary figures such as Miguel de Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and Baltasar Gracián are all known to have admired Rodrigues Lobo’s poetry and praised it openly. As a prose author, Rodrigues Lobo achieved perhaps his greatest fame through his Corte na aldeia e noites de inverno (Court in the countryside and winter nights), which was translated into Castilian less than two years aer it was first published in 1619. Inspired by Baldassare Castiglione’s Il cortegiano (1528; e courtier), Corte na aldeia presents a kind of rulebook for courtly comportment that touches on various aspects of courtly life: the art of speaking, instructions for epistolary exchange, honorific formulas, and good manners. Lacking almost any discussion of religious themes, Corte na aldeia offers something akin to literary theory and has much to say about the Portuguese language and the need for the restoration of Portuguese sovereignty, which had been lost to Castile. [ 295 ]

Águas que penduradas desta altura Águas que penduradas desta altura caís sobre os penedos, descuidadas, aonde, em branca escuma levantadas, ofendidas mostrais mais fermosura; se achais essa dureza tão segura, para que porfiais, águas cansadas? Há tantos anos já desenganadas, e esta rocha mais áspera e mais dura! Voltai atrás por entre os arvoredos, aonde os caminharais com liberdade, até chegar ao fim tão desejado. Mas ai, que são de amor estes segredos! Que vos não valerá própria vontade, como a mim não valeu no meu cuidado.

Se coubesse em meus versos, e em meu canto Se coubesse em meus versos, e em meu canto a tristeza sem fim que o peito encerra, moveria aos penedos d’esta serra a nova piedade e novo espanto. Se puderam meus olhos chorar tanto, quanto se deve à causa que os desterra, cobriram já em lágrimas a terra, escurecendo o seu tão verde manto. Mas o que tem amor dentro encerrado na alma, que à língua e olhos se defende, não pode ser com lágrimas contado: Ah! quem sabe sentir, quanto compreende, que o mal que está oculto em meu cuidado não se vê, não se mostra, não se entende. [ 296 ]

Waters hanging om this height, you fall upon the careless rocks, where, lied in white foam, injured you show greater beauty. If you find that hardness so unyielding, for what reason do you persist, tired waters? So long ago disillusioned, and this rock only rougher and harder! Return back among the groves of trees, to where you walk with eedom until arriving at the much-desired end. But oh, these secrets are of love! Your own will can do you no good, just as mine could not in my time of distress.

If I Could But Fit in My Verses and My Song If I could but fit in my verses and my song the endless sadness contained in my breast, it would move the stones of these mountains to new forms of piety and amazement. If my eyes could but cry as much as they should over what exiles them, they would cover the earth in tears, darkening its green mantle. But that which love has enclosed within the soul, which defends itself om the tongue and the eyes, cannot be recounted with tears: Ah! Whoever can feel will understand well that the evil that is hidden within my suffering is not seen, does not show itself, is not understood. [ 297 ]

* Francisco Rodrigues Lobo *

Waters Hanging om is Height

Deixas-me, Inês, por escolher Joane (cantiga de gonçalo da égloga iii) Deixas-me, Inês, por escolher Joane, e eu por ti deixo tudo. Esse teu falso engano, como eu cudo, praza a Deus não te engane; não digas algu˜a hora, “Este bem que escolhi, que nunca o fora.” Ele tem mais novilhos na manada, tem relvas e currais, e eu para te querer não tenho mais que viver por soldada, se é possível que vivo, sendo ele teu senhor e eu teu cativo. Sai sempre nas festas mais luzido, anda gordo o seu gado; eu de tosco burel, grosso e pesado, trago sempre o vestido, tiro às vacas o leite, para que em outras faltas me aproveite. Tem muitos conhecidos pela aldeia, amigos do seu muito; Ceres com o louro trigo e ledo uito lhe deixa a casa cheia; eu mui pouco centeio, merecido a jornal no campo alheio. Mas ah, Inês, que Amor interesseiro não tem fim venturoso, que, se por um vaqueiro mais ditoso deixas o teu vaqueiro, olha que essa ventura muitas vezes engana e poucas dura. Eu mais te quero e não te desmereço por bens da natureza; [ 298 ]

gonçalo’s song from eclogue iii

5

10

15

20

25

30

You leave me, Inês, to choose Joane, and for you I leave everything. Your false trick, as I see it, may it please God that it not come back to trick you. Do not say at some time: is pleasure that I chose, would that it not had been so! He has many calves in his herd. He has pastures and stables. And I to love you have only to live by my pay, if it’s possible for me to live, as he is your lord and I am your captive. He always shines brightest at parties. His cale are fat. I dress always in rough virgin wool, thick and heavy. I milk the cows, so that I may benefit om various sorts of want. He has many iends around the village, iends of his plenty; Ceres156 with golden wheat and sweet uit leaves his house filled; I have but very lile rye, earned through day labor in someone else’s field. But oh, Inês, love motivated by gain cannot have a happy end. If for a wealthier cowherd you leave your cowherd, be aware that this venture oen ends poorly and seldom lasts. I love you more and I am not unworthy of you in terms of nature’s blessings. [ 299 ]

* Francisco Rodrigues Lobo *

You Leave Me, Inês, to Choose Joane

porém, se o preço está só na riqueza, Joane tem mais preço: escolhe a teu sabor, que um te merece mais, outro melhor. Nem me vence lutando na campina, nem lavrando no monte, nem tangendo melhor ao pé da fonte a sua sanfonina, nem em saber tocá-la, nem em ter mais ensino quando fala. Vence-me na fazenda e na valia, vence-me na esperança, vence-me em não provar tua esquivança e tua tirania; para que em tudo o vença, dá-me, Inês, teu querer; dá-me licença. Verás um pastor pobre ficar rico, que em ti tem seu tesouro; vira-me, Inês, os olhos, que eu te fio que vale menos o ouro que o muito que te eu amo. Mas ah! Que em vão te busco, em vão te chamo! Outrem te tem, outro querer te obriga e força o teu cuidado; fique Gonçalo triste e enjeitado, e por ele se diga que quem não tem fazenda não ame, não deseje, não pretenda.

[ 300 ]

40

45

50

55

60

He cannot defeat me fighting in the plain, nor working in the mountains, nor strumming his hurdy-gurdy at the foot of a spring nor in knowing how to play it, nor is his use of language beer when he speaks. He defeats me only with the value of what he owns. He defeats me in terms of hope. He defeats me in not tasting your cruelty and your tyranny. So that I may defeat him in everything, give me, Inês, your love; give me leave to love you. You will see a poor shepherd become rich, in that in you he has his treasure. Turn your eyes to me, Inês, as I swear to you that gold is worth less than my love for you. But ah! I look for you in vain, in vain I call you! Another holds you, another love binds you and compels you to care. Let Gonçalo remain sad and rejected, and because of him may it be said that he who has no property should not love, nor desire, nor hope.

[ 301 ]

* Francisco Rodrigues Lobo *

35

However, if your price rests only in material wealth, Joane has more to pay: pick as you wish, as one deserves you more, and the other beer.

francesc vicenç garcia i torres (el rector de vallfogona) (1580?–1623)

Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres, also known as the Rector de Vallfogona, was born into a family of humble origins and baptized in Tortosa. His father, who resided in Zaragoza at the time of his death, passed away when Francesc was only three years old. Garcia’s mother, Margalida Ferrandis, who had by that point been widowed twice, subsequently remarried and had at least five more children with the Tortosan bookseller Pau Bono. Garcia studied in Lleida and was a capigorrista or capigorrón, one of the poor young students who worked as servants for wealthy families, before taking his holy orders in 1605. He would then spend time in Barcelona, Girona, Tarragona, and Cervera. In his service to the powerful Moncada family, Garcia gained access into the world of the Spanish aristocracy and was able to participate in the activities of the royal court in Madrid, where he earned a reputation for his quick wit and impressive improvisational abilities. When Juan de Moncada became of archbishop of Tarragona, Garcia took charge of the parish of Santa Maria de Vallfogona de Riucorb, a position he held for the rest of his life. Composing Catalan poetry and prose in several genres, including theater, and ranging in thematic scope om sacred to obscene and violently satirical, Garcia is especially known for his sonnets and décimas. He more or less followed the formal models created by Castilian authors of the time, and many point out how he successfully handled the two socalled Baroque extremes, culteranismo and conceptismo. Garcia also highly respected the works of Santa Teresa de Ávila and wrote a comedy about the life of St. Barbara. Based on a trip he took to Madrid in 1622, it is rumored that the Rector is the poet Cervantes refers to as “Mauleón.” Garcia died in Vallfogona de Riucorb in 1623, and the first biographies of him were not wrien until eighty years aer his death. His humorous and eschatological poetry was especially popular and was imitated [ 302 ]

by many seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Catalan authors, a trend known as vallfogonisme. It was during this time that Garcia became almost a legendary figure; he was first referred to as Garceni and then the Rector de Vallfogona, the title that has stuck up to the present day. Despite his many imitators during the eighteenth century, the Spanish Inquisition would ban Garcia’s work near the end of that century. Most of the Rector’s known works have come to us through the manuscript tradition and were collected in the songbook Recreo i jardí del Parnàs (Playtime and garden of Parnassus).

[ 303 ]

La monarquia regint a una latrina que féu l’autor en l’hort de sa rectoria La monarquia regint Felip terç, que la millora, se féu esta cagadora, essent papa Paulo quint. Adredes obra tan grave s’edificà prop de un hort perquè qui paper no port se puga valer d’un rave. En sa traça artificiosa no pose lo maliciós la llengua amb zel envejós; perquè la traurà merdosa. Ni ab supèrbia presumesca, lo que no entén judicar; i ans que ho vinga a condemnar, tot primer ho assaboresca. Los veïns advertiran no cometre tan gran falta, que si fou obra més alta, tota aquesta se beuran. I tu, cagador prudent, que en aquest lloc entraràs, si molt pesat aniràs, menjar-te has lo paviment. Si per obres soberanes són tinguts los mausoleus colossos y colisseus, memòria de coses vanes:

[ 304 ]

to a latrine that the author made in the orchard of his rectory e monarchy belongs to Philip III,157 so to improve it this shithouse was built, the pope being Paul V.158 5

10

15

20

Such a solemn work was built near a garden, so that if one doesn’t bring paper, he can make do with a radish. May the tongue, with envious zeal, not insert malice into its design; for that tongue would come away covered in shit. Nor may one presume with arrogance to judge what he does not understand, as those that come to condemn something all taste of it first. e neighbors will be warned not to commit such a great error, for if the structure were taller, they would drink in all of it. And you, prudent shier who would enter this place: if you step too heavily, you’ll have to eat the pavement.

25

If mausoleums are held to be sovereign works, and colossuses and coliseums memorials to vain things:

[ 305 ]

* Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres (el Rector de Vallfogona) *

e Monarchy Belongs

ací mil culs retronant faran memòria perfeta de l’assalt de La Goleta i victòria de Lepant. Fou lo tribunal primer, que en est lloc se celebrà; un diumenge que hi cagà un descendent de Bauter. Dividits los llocs estan: est lo rector s’apropia, per ordre l’escolà i tia; les hostes, on gustaran. Fecit Bartomeu Monreal un Cid en arquitectura, de qui la roca més dura tem lo martell i parpal.

Gaste, qui de les flors de poesia a la expressiva senzillesa de la llengua catalana Gaste, qui de les flors de poesia toies vol consagrar als ulls que adora, del ric aljòfar que plorà l’Aurora quan li convinga dir que es fa de dia. Si d’abril parla, pinte l’alegria ab què desplega ses catifes Flora, o a Filomena, mentres cantant plora de ram en ram, la llengua que tenia. A qui es diu Isabel, diga-li Isbella; sol i esteles als ulls, als llavis grana: llocs comuns de les muses de Castella.

[ 306 ]

35

40

here a thousand resounding assholes will make a perfect tribute to the assault on La Goleta159 and the victory of Lepanto.160 e first judgment of this place was held on a Sunday, when a descendant of Bauter161 took a shit here. e places are all divided up: this one the rector takes as his own, and in order he lets flow and pushes it out; the guests go wherever they like. Fecit Bartholomew Monreal,162 a Cid163 of architecture— the hardest rock fears his hammer and chisel.

What a Waste, to Speak of the Flowers of Poetry to the expressive simplicity of the catalan language What a waste, to speak of the flowers of poetry and then devote bunches to the eyes he164 adores, and of the “rich pearl that the dawn has wept” when it would do to say that it’s now daytime. If he speaks of April, he paints the happiness with which Flora165 lays out her carpet, or Philomena, who while she sings weeps om branch to branch for the tongue she once had.166 If her name is Isabel, call her Isbella; call her eyes the sun and stars, her lips crimson: all commonplaces of the Castilian muses.

[ 307 ]

* Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres (el Rector de Vallfogona) *

30

Que jo, per a que sàpia Tecla o Joana, que estic perdut per tot quant veig en ella, prou tinc de la llanesa catalana.

Ai, cap de tal en mi! No só mussol despedeix- se un galant de sa dama, cansat d’adorar- la, sens haver lograt alguna correspondència Ai, cap de tal en mi! No só mussol, que a una careta, que em fa eixir de lloc, haja cremat encens i fet més foc que feren los Egiptes al déu Sol; i que haja bavejat, com caragol, imaginant ab son florit badoc, i que, fent-me favors de poc en poc, pensara ser volgut únic i sol; ben haja, per a sempre, un desengany: que m’ha portat a temps, que he conegut que d’açò no en puc tràurer algun guany, i, puix a tal extrem só ja vingut, antes de no arribar a major dany, estic, per no ser ase, resolut.

Que cegament, Amor, a tu em dedico! Que cegament, Amor, a tu em dedico! Que cautament procuro l’apartar-me i, sens poder del tot determinar-me, avorrint-me, en tes ares sacrifico; que fàcilment a idolatrar m’aplico, però, veent en ma secta menysprear-me, ni acabo de adorar, ni de ausentar-me: d’una part destruesc, de altra edifico. [ 308 ]

Oh, at’s It! I’m Not Some Idiot a handsome young man says good- bye to his lady, tired of loving her without having his love returned Oh, that’s it! I’m not some idiot, who aer one brief and moving glance, burns incense and makes more fires than the Egyptians did to the sun god; and who drools like a snail, thinking he’s with his flowery bud; and, when she shows me favor lile by lile, thinks myself to be her one and only love! God bless, forever, this disappointment for coming to me in time; I’ve come to know that om this affair I have nothing to gain. And since I’ve already arrived at such an extreme, before doing greater harm to myself I am—in order not to be an ass—resolute.

How Blindly, Love, I Devote Myself to You How blindly, Love, I devote myself to you! How cautiously do I work to distance myself, and not being able to commit to one or the other, hating myself, I make my sacrifice at your altar. How easily I apply myself to idolatry; but since in this sect I must despise myself, I neither cease loving nor distance myself: with one hand I destroy, with the other I build. [ 309 ]

* Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres (el Rector de Vallfogona) *

But I, so that Tecla or Joana might know that I am lost because of all I see in her, am filled instead with Catalan plainness.

Com, Amor, tant incendi en mi fomentes, per qui, contra mos Déus, preten fer guerra? Molt és Bàrbara aquella de qui em queixo, Mes la, Amor, sens propòsit me turmentes, que ab l’odi just que d’ella me desterra per un crucificat mos Déus no deixo.

[ 310 ]

but you torment me, Love, to no purpose; with the just hatred that exiles me om her for one crucified, I will not leave my God.

[ 311 ]

* Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres (el Rector de Vallfogona) *

How, Love, do you stoke in me such fires for whom, against my God, you seek to make war? Barbara167 is the one of whom I complain,

francisco de quevedo (1580–1645)

Born in Madrid, Quevedo was the third of five children. His father was a private secretary for Princess María, daughter of Charles V, and later to Philip II’s wife, Queen Ana of Austria. Quevedo’s mother was a lady-inwaiting for Queen Ana. While lile is known about Quevedo’s childhood, it is thought that his early schooling took place at the Colegio Imperial of Madrid. He later studied at the University of Alcalá de Henares and in Valladolid. In addition to being a learned man, Quevedo was a statesman. His iendship with Pedro Téllez Girón, the Duke of Osuna, proved to be significant, and he helped the duke become the viceroy of Naples. Quevedo was later incarcerated for his connection with Osuna, who was accused of aempting to overthrow the Venetian government. From 1627 to 1628 Quevedo was also involved in a dispute over whether Santa Teresa de Ávila should be a patron saint of Spain along with Santiago Matamoros. In 1639 he was imprisoned again. e legend states that when King Philip IV sat down to eat one evening, he found a satirical poem that criticized him and his policies. Shortly thereaer, Quevedo was arrested, but to this day no one knows for certain whether he authored the poem. Aer four years in custody, including six months of solitary confinement, he was finally released. He died shortly aerward. During his lifetime, he achieved literary fame. In 1599 he published his first sonnet in praise of Lucas Rodríguez, which was followed by a sonnet in 1604 that lauded Lope de Vega’s El peregrino en su patria (e pilgrim in his homeland). In 1605 Pedro de Espinosa included several of Quevedo’s poems in the anthology Primera parte de las flores de poetas ilustres de España (First part of the flowers of illustrious poets of Spain), a publication that solidified Quevedo’s eminence among Spanish poets of the early seventeenth century. Miguel de Cervantes considered him a iend, and Lope [ 312 ]

de Vega praised him highly. Beyond these relationships, he was entangled in an intense polemic with Luis de Góngora that continued until the latter’s death. While the two wrote satirical poems about one another, their feud extended beyond the pages of their texts. Shortly aer Quevedo’s death, José González de Salas published El Parnaso español, monte en dos cumbres dividido, con las nueve musas castellanas (e Spanish Parnassus, a mountain divided into two summits, with the nine Castilian muses). is collection contains the majority of the poems that scholars aribute to Quevedo. Critics typically divide his poetic compositions between serious works (for example, metaphysical and moral poetry) and more bawdy or satirical works. Quevedo is famous for his use of antithesis, oxymoron, paradox, and anaphora, and his works are oen seen as examples of conceptismo, which, in contrast to the supposed culteranismo of Góngora, foregrounds deep poetic conceits over elaborate syntax and a learned Latinate vocabulary.

[ 313 ]

Buscas en Roma a Roma, ¡oh, peregrino! a roma sepultada en sus ruinas Buscas en Roma a Roma, ¡oh, peregrino!, y en Roma misma a Roma no la hallas: cadáver son las que ostentó murallas, y tumba de sí proprio el Aventino. Yace donde reinaba el Palantino; y limadas del tiempo, las medallas más se muestran destrozo a las batallas de las edades que blasón latino. Sólo el Tibre quedó, cuya corriente, si ciudad la regó, ya sepoltura la llora con funesto son doliente. ¡Oh, Roma!, en tu grandeza, en tu hermosura, huyó lo que era firme, y solamente lo fugitivo permanece y dura.

Es yelo abrasador, es fuego helado Es yelo abrasador, es fuego helado, es herida que duele y no se siente, es un soñado bien, un mal presente, es un breve descanso muy cansado. Es un descuido que nos da cuidado, un cobarde, con nombre de valiente, un andar solitario entre la gente, un amar solamente ser amado. Es una libertad encarcelada, que dura hasta el postrero paroxismo; enfermedad que crece si es curada.

[ 314 ]

to rome, buried in its ruins Oh, pilgrim! You look for Rome in Rome, but in Rome itself Rome you do not find: e walls that Rome once boasted are now a cadaver, and the Aventine Hill its own tomb. It lies where the Palatine ruled; and filed down by time, the medals prove themselves to be more destroyed by bales with time than any Latin shield. Only the Tiber has remained, whose current once watered the city; now it mourns her— a sepulchre—with dark, painful sounds. Oh, Rome! In your greatness and beauty, what was solid has fled and only that which was fleeting remains and endures!

It’s Burning Ice, It’s Frozen Fire It’s burning ice, it’s ozen fire; it’s a wound that hurts but is not felt; it’s an imagined good, a present evil; it’s a brief and very restless respite; it’s a carelessness that fills us with care; a coward, courageous only in name; a solitary movement through the crowd; a loving only being loved. It’s an imprisoned eedom, which endures until the final spasm; an illness that grows if cured.

[ 315 ]

* Francisco de Quevedo *

Oh, Pilgrim! You Look for Rome in Rome

Éste es el niño Amor, éste es su abismo. ¡Mirad cuál amistad tendrá con nada el que en todo es contrario de sí mismo!

Si a una parte miraran solamente a una dama bizca y hermosa Si a una parte miraran solamente vuestros ojos, ¿cuál parte no abrasaran? Y si a diversas partes no miraran, se helaran el ocaso o el Oriente. El mirar zambo y zurdo es delincuente; vuestras luces izquierdas lo declaran, pues con mira engañosa nos disparan facinorosa luz, dulce y ardiente. Lo que no miran ven, y son despojos suyos cuantos los ven, y su conquista da a l’alma tantos premios como enojos. ¿Qué ley, pues, mover pudo al mal jurista a que, siendo monarcas los dos ojos, los llamase vizcondes de la vista?

A fugitivas sombras doy abrazos en vano busca la tranquilidad en el amor A fugitivas sombras doy abrazos, en los sueños se cansa el alma mía; paso luchando a solas noche y día con un trasgo que traigo entre mis brazos. Cuando le quiero más ceñir con lazos, y viendo mi sudor, se me desvía, vuelvo con nueva fuerza a mi porfía, y temas con amor me hacen pedazos. [ 316 ]

If Your Eyes Were to Gaze upon One Place to a beautiful, cross- eyed lady If your eyes were to gaze upon one place, what place wouldn’t be scorched? And if they didn’t gaze upon several places, the West or the East would eeze. Your split, awkward gaze is criminal; your le lights declare it, since with their deceitful gaze they shoot us with perverse light, sweet and burning. What they do not gaze upon, they see and what they see is their plunder, and their conquest gives the soul as many rewards as annoyances. What law, then, moved a wicked judge to proclaim your eyes, being monarchs, vice-counts168 of sight?

I Embrace Fleeting Shadows in vain he seeks tranquillity in love I embrace fleeting shadows, my soul expends itself on dreams; I struggle alone, both night and day, with a goblin that I carry in my arms. When I wish to tie him up more tightly, and seeing the sweat pour off me, I return with renewed force to my madness, and love tears me to shreds. [ 317 ]

* Francisco de Quevedo *

is is the child Love, and this is his abyss. See how he beiends nothing, he who in everything is contrary to himself!

Voyme a vengar en una imagen vana que no se aparta de los ojos míos; búrlame, y de burlarme corre ufana. Empiézola a seguir, fáltanme bríos; y como de alcanzarla tengo gana, hago correr tras ella el llanto en ríos.

Érase un hombre a una nariz pegado a un hombre de gran nariz Érase un hombre a una nariz pegado, érase una nariz superlativa, érase una alquitara medio viva, érase un peje espada mal barbado; era un reloj de sol mal encarado, érase un elefante boca arriba, érase una nariz sayón y escriba, un Ovidio Nasón mal narigado. Erase el espolón de una galera, érase una pirámide de Egito, las doce tribus de narices era; érase un naricísimo infinito, muchísimo nariz, nariz tan fiera, que en la cara de Anás fuera delito.

Miré los muros de la patria mía Miré los muros de la patria mía, si un tiempo fuertes, ya desmoronados, de la carrera de la edad cansados, por quien caduca ya su valentía. Salíme al campo; vi que el sol bebía los arroyos del yelo desatados, [ 318 ]

I start to follow it, though I lack the force; and as I wish to grab hold of it, my tears run aer it in rivers.

Once ere Was a Man Stuck to a Nose to a man with a big nose Once there was a man stuck to a nose, it was a superlative nose, it was a half-living mess of tubes, it was a poorly bearded swordfish; It was a poorly situated sundial, it was an elephant looking skyward, it was the nose of a hangman and of a scribe, an Ovidius Naso169 nasally cursed. It was the naval ram of a galley, it was an Egyptian pyramid, it was the nose of all the twelve tribes; It was a truly infinite nose-issimo, a whopping nose, a nose so wild that on the face of Annas170 it would be a crime.

I Looked upon the Walls of My Native Country I looked upon the walls of my native country; if once they were strong, now dilapidated, tired by the race of time by which their valor now must fade. I went out to the fields; I saw the sun depleting the brooks eed om the ice, [ 319 ]

* Francisco de Quevedo *

I’ll avenge myself of that vain image that won’t leave my eyes; it mocks me, and in doing so becomes arrogant.

y del monte quejosos los ganados, que con sombras hurtó su luz al día. Entré en mi casa; vi que, amancillada, de anciana habitación era despojos; mi báculo, más corvo y menos fuerte. Vencida de la edad sentí mi espada, y no hallé cosa en que poner los ojos que no fuese recuerdo de la muerte.

Poderoso caballero es don Dinero Poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Madre, yo al oro me humillo; él es mi amante y mi amado, pues, de puro enamorado, de continuo anda amarillo; que pues, doblón o sencillo, hace todo cuanto quiero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Nace en las Indias honrado, donde el mundo le acompaña; viene a morir en España y es en Génova enterrado. Y pues quien le trae al lado es hermoso aunque sea fiero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Es galán y es como un oro; tiene quebrado el color, persona de gran valor, tan cristiano como moro; pues que da y quita el decoro y quebranta cualquier fuero, [ 320 ]

I went into my house; I saw that it lay in ruins, and the ancient room had been reduced to rubble. My walking stick was more bowed and weaker. I saw that my sword was beaten by age, and I found nothing le upon which to fix my eyes that was not now a reminder of death.

A Powerful Knight Is Sir Money A powerful knight is Sir Money.

5

10

15

20

Mother, I kneel before gold; he is my lover and my beloved, om being so commied a lover, he has become yellow all over; since, whether a doubloon or formless, he does everything I desire, a powerful knight is Sir Money. He is well-born in the Indies, where the world accompanies him; he comes to die in Spain, and it is in Genoa that he is buried. And since whoever carries him by his side is beautiful though he be ugly, a powerful knight is Sir Money. He is handsome and like a gold coin that is slightly pale, a person of great worth, as much a Christian as a Muslim. Since he gives and takes respect and breaks every law, [ 321 ]

* Francisco de Quevedo *

and the cale ill at ease with the mountainside, which with its shadows stole the light om the day.

poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Son sus padres principales, y es de noble descendiente, porque en las venas de Oriente todas las sangres son reales; y pues es quien hace iguales al duque y al ganadero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Mas ¿a quién no maravilla ver en su gloria sin tasa que es lo menos de su casa doña Blanca de Castilla? Pero, pues da al bajo silla y al cobarde hace guerrero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Sus escudos de armas nobles son siempre tan principales, que sin sus escudos reales no hay escudos de armas dobles; y pues a los mismos robles da codicia su minero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Por importar en los trataos y dar tan buenos consejos, en las casas de los viejos gatos le guardan de gatos; y pues él rompe recatos y ablanda al jüez más severo, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Y es tanta su majestad, aunque son sus duelos hartos, [ 322 ]

30

35

40

45

50

55

60

a powerful knight is Sir Money. His parents are esteemed, and he is of noble lineage, because in the veins of the East, all the bloodlines are royal; and since he is the one who makes dukes and ranchers equal, a powerful knight is Sir Money. But who does not marvel to see the unmeasurable glory of his distant relative, Lady Penny of Castile?171 But since he seats the lowly and makes the coward into a warrior, a powerful knight is Sir Money. His noble coat of arms is always so esteemed that without his royal shield, no weapons are made; and since his miner is envied by the strong oaks themselves, a powerful knight is Sir Money. Because he is so important for contracts and advice to be valid, cats protect him om other cats in the houses of the elderly. And since he breaks all modesty and soens the toughest judge, a powerful knight is Sir Money. And his majesty is so great that even though his pain may be unbearable, [ 323 ]

* Francisco de Quevedo *

25

que con haberle hecho cuartos, no pierde su autoridad; pero, pues da calidad al noble y al pordiosero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Nunca vi damas ingratas a su gusto y afición, que a las caras de un doblón hacen sus caras baratas; y pues hace las bravatas desde una bolsa de cuero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero. Más valen en cualquier tierra (mirad si es harto sagaz) sus escudos en la paz que rodelas en la guerra; Y pues al pobre le entierra y hace propio al forastero, poderoso caballero es don Dinero.

[ 324 ]

70

75

80

I’ve never seen women ungrateful for his pleasure and affection, and when faced by a doubloon they make themselves cheap; and since he makes his boasts om a leather bag, a powerful knight is Sir Money. Anywhere in the world— see how clever he is— his coins are worth more in times of peace than shields in times of war. And since he buries the poor and makes the stranger welcome, a powerful knight is Sir Money.

[ 325 ]

* Francisco de Quevedo *

65

even when quartered, he does not lose his value; but since he gives status to the noble and to the beggar, a powerful knight is Sir Money.

tomás de noronha (d. 1651)

Although almost nothing is known about the life of Tomás de Noronha, he has become without a doubt one of the most celebrated Portuguese poets of the seventeenth century. Part of the strong poetic reaction within the Iberian Peninsula against the dense and ornate poetic style of Luis de Góngora (see Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres, “A la expressiva senzillesa de la llengua catalana” ‘To the expressive simplicity of the Catalan language’), he is perhaps best known for his biting parodies of the Gongorine style. A talented satirist, Noronha made good use of poetic verse to aack both the contemporary customs and the people who most disturbed him. His known poetic work is found in the Fénix renascida (Phoenix reborn) anthology (1746) and the Poesias inéditas de D. omás de Noronha (Unedited Poems by Dom omás de Noronha), published by Joaquim Mendes dos Remédios in 1899.

[ 327 ]

Portugal, Portugal, és um sandeu a muitos temores no porto com medo de uma nau de holandeses Portugal, Portugal, és um sandeu. Estás caduco já por esta cruz; tanto talam-balam, tanto trus-trus, para quarenta cus cheios de breu! Para quarenta cus, pois bem sei eu, quem, sem lança nenhuma ou arcabus; para dar guerra a quatrocentos cus, armado está com quanto Deus lhe deu. Holanda será caça se cá vem; se tendes medo a Holanda, o meu Ruão sabe correr a caça muito bem. Esforçai-vos, pois tendes capitão, que toda Holanda escassamente tem para forrar a perna de um calção.

Escuta, ó Sara, pois te falta espelho a uma mulher que, sendo muito velha, se enfeitava Escuta, ó Sara, pois te falta espelho para ver tuas faltas, não quero que te falte meu conselho, em presunções tão altas; lembro-te agora só, que és de terra, e lodo, e em terra hás de tornar-te deste modo; mas não te digo, nem te lembro nada, porque há muito, que em terra estás tornada. Que importa, que algum tempo a prata pura de tuas mãos nascesse, e que de teus cabelos a espessura as minas de ouro desse, [ 328 ]

on the many fears in porto over a dutch ship Portugal, Portugal, you’re an imbecile. You’re dead already or I’m not standing here; so much bam, bam, so much twitch, twitch, because of forty assholes filled with pitch! Fot these forty assholes (and I’m sure of this) here I am, with neither a lance nor a rifle, prepared to fight off four hundred assholes, armed only with what God gave me. e Dutch will be hunted down if they come here. If you’re aaid of the Dutch, my horse knows well how to chase down game. Be strong, for you have a captain,172 and all of Holland scarcely has one that can fill a pair of short pants.

Listen, Oh Sara, Since You Lack a Mirror to a very old woman who embellished herself

5

10

Listen, oh Sara,173 since you lack a mirror to see your faults, I don’t want you to miss my highly valuable advice: just remember now that you are made of earth and mud and to the earth you must return; but I’m not telling you anything new (or reminding you), because you turned to dirt a long time ago. What does it maer that before pure silver was born of your hands, and that your hair provided depth to gold mines, [ 329 ]

* Tomás de Noronha *

Portugal, Portugal, You’re an Imbecile

se o tempo vil, que tudo troca e muda, somente de ouro pôs por mais ajuda em tuas mãos de prata, o amarelo, e a prata de tuas mãos em teu cabelo. Se um tempo foram de marfim brunido no século dourado, não vês, que o tempo as tem já consumido? Não vês, que as tem gastado? Deixa, Senhora, deixa os vãos enredos, pois quando toco teus nodosos dedos, me parece que apalpo sem enganos cinco cordões de ades Franciscanos. Viciando a Natureza com tuas tintas, com pincéis delicados jasmins, e rosas em teu rosto pintas, deixa esses vãos cuidados, que quanto mais tua cara se alvorota, máscara me pareces de chacota, e se sem tintas, cuido neste passo que essa máscara está em calhamaço. Como pretendes pois com mil enganos vestir mil primaveras, se passou a primavera de teus anos? Como não desesperas, se o tempo te pôs já no Inverno io, aonde toda uta perde o brio? Parecendo teu rosto, e porque enfada, uta que se secou, noz arrogada. Se feitura de Deus Eva não fora, dissera sem porfias que de Eva foste mãe, Velha Senhora, pois te sobejam os dias para esta presunção, que agora tenho; e concluindo enfim, a alcançar venho, pois alcançar não posso a tua idade, que deves de ser mãe da eternidade.

[ 330 ]

20

25

30

35

40

45

If once upon a time they were of polished ivory, in your golden age don’t you see that time has already consumed them? Don’t you see that they have been wasted? Stop, senhora, abandon your vain plans, for when I touch your gnarled fingers it seems that I am feeling, and I’m not kidding, the five knots of Franciscan priests. Corrupting Nature with paint, with delicate pencils, you trace out jasmines and roses on your face; stop these vain measures, for the more you fuss over your face, the more ridiculous you look. And if you go without paint, I’m aaid that your mask had beer be awfully thick. Why do you try with a thousand tricks to dress like a thousand springtimes, if the spring of your years has already passed? How do you not despair that time has already placed you in cold winter, where all uit loses its brilliance? Your face seems, because you get angry, like a uit that has dried up, like a wrinkled walnut. If Eve were not the creation of God, I would confidently say that you were Eve’s mother, old senhora, as you’re more than old enough to justi this presumption of mine; and so I arrive at my conclusion, but reach your age I cannot, for you could be the mother of eternity.

[ 331 ]

* Tomás de Noronha *

15

if vile time, which changes and moves everything, has put only gold’s yellow hue in your once silver hands, and the silver of your hands in your hair.

Parece que teus olhos por consciência a idade os tem metidos em duas lapas fazendo penitência; e estão tão escondidos que quando os vou buscar, porque me choram não acerto com o beco, onde moram, porque o tempo os mudou seu passo, e passo da flor do rosto lá para o cachaço. Se a meus olhos despida te ofereces, minha alma logo pasma e estética nos ossos me pareces, ou quando não fantasma; e assi, Senhora, se te vejo em osso, com essa cara posta em tal pescoço, me pareces tirada a cabeleira em cima de um bordão uma caveira. Como ainda queres em desatinos dar a meninos mama, se já contigo desmamei meninos? Deixa essa torpe fama, sabe que sei (e disto não me gabo) que te alugou sem dúvida o diabo, invejando teu corpo, cara e dedos para fazer a Santo Antão os medos. Deixa, Senhora, deixa o vão cuidado, a sagrado te acolhe, primeiro que te ponham em sagrado; este conselho escolhe, admite o que te digo sem desgosto, que eu quando vejo teu funesto rostro já também dele o seu conselho tomo porque mudo me dá Memento homo.

[ 332 ]

55

60

65

70

75

80

It looks to me as if your eyes have been stuck by time inside two caves to do penance, and they are so hidden that when I go looking for them, because they cry to me, I can’t find the back alley where they live, because time changed their address, and I go staight om your cheek to the back of your neck. If you were to appear to me naked, my soul would be astounded, as if you were just makeup on bones or were merely a ghost; and so, senhora, if I see you nude with that face placed on such a neck, you’ll seem to me missing your wig, a skull placed on top of a stick. How is it that you crazily still want to breastfeed children, even if I’ve already given you the bad news? Give up that stupid idea, for the devil knows (and I’m not exaggerating) that without a doubt he rented you, coveting your body, face, and fingers to ighten Saint Anthony. Stop, senhora, stop the vain measures: for the sacred welcomes you; but before they place you in the grave, take my advice: accept what I’ve told you without rancor, for when I see your dismal face, I also take instruction om it, because it tacitly says to me Memento homo.174

[ 333 ]

* Tomás de Noronha *

50

Que importa ao crédito vosso a uma mulher acautelada em fechar a porta, mas diziam que andava com o cura Que importa ao crédito vosso Fechardes, todos os dias, A porta às Ave-Marias, Se a abris ao Padre-nosso?

[ 334 ]

to a woman careful to shut her door, although they said she was sleeping with the priest What does it maer to your virtue that you religiously shut your door for the evening Ave-Marias, if you just open it again for Our Father?

[ 335 ]

* Tomás de Noronha *

What Does it Maer to Your Virtue

sóror violante do céu (1602–1693)

Violante Montesino was born in Lisbon, Portugal, during the first decade of the seventeenth century to Manuel da Silveira Montesino and Helena da França de Ávila. Showing an early talent for poetry, she was chosen to compose a rhymed dramatic work at the age of seventeen to commemorate the 1619 visit of King Felipe III of Spain (D. Filipe II of Portugal) to Lisbon. In her midtwenties Violante entered the Dominican order, taking vows at the Convent of Nossa Senhora do Rosário on August 29, 1630. A respected and prolific poet, she was oen referred to as the “Décima Musa e Fénix dos Engenhos Lusitanos” ‘Tenth Muse and Phoenix of Portuguese Genius.’ Much of her work was published during her lifetime (although much has since been lost, including the totality of her dramatic compositions), a rare occurrence for the period and itself a testament to her fame. A collection of her poems (Rimas varias de la madre Sóror Violante del Cielo, religiosa en el monasterio de la Rosa de Lisboa [Various poems by Sister Violante of Heaven, a nun in the monastery of the Rose in Lisbon]) was published in 1646 (Rouen), and two important poetic anthologies, Parnaso lusitano de divinos e humanos versos (1733; Lusitanian Parnassus of divine and human verses) and Mathias Pereira da Silva’s Fénix renascida (1746; Phoenix reborn), contain selections of her poetry.

[ 337 ]

Se apartada do corpo a doce vida Se apartada do corpo a doce vida, domina em seu lugar a dura morte, de que nasce tardar-me tanto a morte se ausente da alma estou, que me dá vida? Não quero sem Sylvano já ter vida, pois tudo sem Sylvano é viva morte; já que se foi Sylvano, venha a morte; perca-se por Sylvano a minha vida. Ah, suspirado ausente, se esta morte não te obriga querer vir dar-me vida, como não vem dar-me a mesma morte? Mas se na alma consiste a própria vida, bem sei que se me tarda tanto a morte, que é porque sinta a morte de tal vida.

Amor, se uma mudança imaginada a uma suspeita Amor, se uma mudança imaginada é com tanto rigor minha homicida, que fará, se passar de ser temida a ser, como temida, averiguada? Se só por ser de mim tão receada, com dura execução me tira a vida, que fará, se chegar a ser sabida? Que fará, se passar de suspeitada? Porém, já que me mata, sendo incerta, somente o imaginá-la e presumi-la, claro está, pois da vida o fio corta.

[ 338 ]

If when sweet life is separated om the body, hard death rules in its place, why does death take so long to come to me if I am without the soul that gives me life? I no longer wish without Sylvano175 to have life, as everything without Sylvano is a living death; since the departure of Sylvano, may death come, may it be that my life for Sylvano is lost. Ah, my absent beloved, if this living death does not oblige you to give me life, why does death not come to give it to me? But if life resides in the soul, well do I know that if death takes long to come to me, it is because it is pained by the death of such a life.

Love, If an Imagined Alteration to a suspicion Love, if an imagined alteration can so severely destroy me, what will become of me if it transcends fear and becomes, as feared, true? If only by my dreading it it, by stern execution, takes my life, what will become of me if it comes to pass? What will become of me if it surpasses suspicion? However, just imagining it and presuming it to be true is enough to kill me (though it is unproven); this much is clear, as it even now cuts my life’s thread.

[ 339 ]

* Sóror Violante do Céu *

If When Sweet Life Is Separated om the Body

Que me fará depois, quando for certa? Ou tornar a viver para senti-la, ou senti-la também depois de morta.

Musas, que no jardim do rei do dia a d. marianna de luna Musas, que no jardim do rei do dia soltando a doce voz, prendeis o vento; deidades, que admirando o pensamento as flores aumentais, que Apollo cria. Deixai, deixai do sol a companhia, que fazendo invejoso o firmamento uma Lua, que é sol, e que é portento; um jardim vos fabrica de harmonia. E porque não cuideis que tal ventura pode pagar tributo à variedade pelo que tem de lua a luz mais pura: sabei que por mercê da divindade, este jardim canoro se assegura com o muro imortal da eternidade.

[ 340 ]

Muses, Who Loosen Your Voice in the Garden to dona marianna de luna 176 Muses, who loosen your voice in the garden of the daylight king and take hold of the wind, deities who, admiring thought, increase the flowers Apollo cultivates, depart, depart om the sun’s company, as a moon,177 which is both a sun and a wonder, is now making the firmament envious and making for you a garden of harmony.178 And don’t believe that such a venture will have you paying tribute to variance because it presents the moon as the purest light; but know that through the mercy of divinity, this lyrical garden179 has secured itself to the immortal wall of eternity.

[ 341 ]

* Sóror Violante do Céu *

What will it do to me when it is proved true? Either I will return to life to feel its full weight, or I will feel it also aer my death.

francisco manuel de melo (1608–1666)

Born in Lisbon to a family occupying the lower ranks of the aristocracy, Francisco Manuel de Melo showed an early talent for literature. In spite of Melo’s literary talents, however, his life was largely shaped by war and politics. His father, Luís de Melo, was a soldier (fidalgo cavaleiro), and upon his death, his young son chose to follow in his footsteps. Francisco received his military commission in 1635, and he went on to serve in the army of Habsburg king Felipe IV (at that time king of Portugal), participating in armed conflicts in Flanders and Catalonia. With the restoration of Portuguese sovereignty in 1640 and the rise of the Bragança dynasty to the throne of Portugal, Melo swore his loyalty to João IV, the new monarch. In spite of this, Melo was seen by many as not to be trusted due to his earlier service to the Habsburgs in Castile, and his cause was not helped by the difficult relationship he had with the new king. In 1644 he was falsely accused of having murdered a member of the royal court and sentenced to perpetual exile. He served eleven years in prison (during which he wrote some of his best-known poetic and prose works) before being sent to Brazil. With the death of King João IV in early 1658, Melo returned to Portugal and regained his previous level of rank and prestige. From 1662 to 1665 he served as a diplomat in England, France, and Italy. In 1666 he was given a royal administrative post, but he died later the same year. Melo was a prolific writer in both Castilian and Portuguese. Aer his service to Felipe IV in the war against Catalonia, he wrote a history of the conflict titled Historia de los movimientos, separación y guerra de Cataluña (1645; History of the movements, separation, and war of Catalonia) that continues to be studied by literary scholars and historians alike. Two years before his death, he also published a two-volume collection of his moral works (Obras morales) in Castilian. [ 342 ]

In Portuguese, Melo is best known for his Carta de guia de casados (1651; Leer of guidance to the married), which offers practical advice to those contemplating marriage, and his theatrical piece Auto do fidalgo aprendiz (Play of the noble apprentice). Beyond these more popular works, he also authored a collection of short historical episodes called Epanáforas de vária história portuguesa (1660; Anaphoras of diverse Portuguese history) and the posthumously published Apólogos dialogais (1721; Dialogic apologues). Also well known is his volume titled Cartas familiares (1664; Familiar letters), which contains a considerable (if carefully selected) portion of his personal correspondence. Melo published a collection of his poetic compositions, titled Obras métricas (Verse works), in 1665. is volume contains a large number of sonnets, verse epistles, eclogues, and redondilhas.

[ 343 ]

Vi eu um dia a Morte andar folgando Vi eu um dia a Morte andar folgando por um campo de vivos que a não viam. Os velhos, sem saber o que faziam, a cada passo nela iam topando. Na mocidade dos moços confiando, ignorantes da Morte, a não temiam. Todos cegos, nenhuns se lhe desviam; ela a todos c’o dedo os vai contando. Então quis disparar, e os olhos cerra; tirou e errou! Eu, vendo seus empregos, tão sem ordem, bradei: “Tem-te, homicida!” Voltou-se e respondeu: “Tal vai de guerra! Se vós todos andais comigo cegos, que esperais que convosco ande advertida?”

Serei eu alguma hora tão ditoso Serei eu alguma hora tão ditoso, que os cabelos, que amor laços fazia, por prémio de o esperar, veja algum dia soltos ao brando vento buliçoso? Verei os olhos, donde o sol formoso as portas da manhã mais cedo abria, mas, em chegando a vê-los, se partia ou cego, ou lisonjeiro, ou temeroso? Verei a limpa testa, a quem a Aurora graça sempre pediu, e os brancos dentes, por quem trocará as pérolas que chora? Mas que espero de ver dias contentes, se para se pagar de gosto uma hora, não bastam mil idades diferentes? [ 344 ]

One day I saw Death walking along among a group of the living who didn’t see him. e old people, without knowing what they were doing, bumped into him with each step. Trusting in their youth, the young people, ignorant of Death, did not fear him. All of them blind, none moved to avoid him: He goes by, counting each of them with his finger. He moved to fire at them, closing his eyes: He shot and missed! I, watching this haphazard aempt, shouted: “Stop, Murderer!” He turned to me and answered back: “Such is war! If you all go along blind to me, do you expect me to take notice of you?”

Will I Ever Be So Blessed Will I ever be so blessed to see her hair (which love has tied into bows), as a reward for my patience, one day let loose to the so, restless wind? Will I see those eyes om which the beautiful sun opened the doors of the first rays of morning, but, aer seeing them, le there blind, fawning, or fearful? Will I see that clear forehead om which the dawn seeks its grace, and the white teeth, for when will she exchange the pearls that she cries? But why do I wish to see happy days, if to pay for the pleasure of just one hour a thousand different ages are not enough? [ 345 ]

* Francisco Manuel de Melo *

One Day I Saw Death Walking Along

francesc fontanella (1622–1682?)

Francesc Fontanella was born in 1622 in Barcelona, where his family members were important actors in Catalan political life. His father, Joan Pere Fontanella, was a respected jurist, and his brother Josep was an ambassador. Francesc earned his law degree in 1641, the same year that he participated in the Bale of Montjuic as a superintendent of artillery. His secessionist views during the Catalan Revolt forced him and his wife to leave Barcelona and create a new life in Perpignan, where, aer his wife’s death, he took vows in the Dominican Order. For many years, Fontanella’s writings circulated primarily in manuscript form. It was not until the nineteenth century, during the Catalan Renaixença, that his work, along with that of other seventeenth-century Catalan writers, began to be published and read more widely. Most classi Fontanella’s style as baroque, and he does tend to apply seventeenth-century Castilian models to Catalan leers. His poetry is known for its learned lexicon, including many Latinisms, and for its inclusion of Castilianisms as well. Fontanella greatly admired Garcilaso de la Vega, and he penned bucolic poetry as well as theater. e first stage of his oeuvre is characterized as optimistic, almost elated, perhaps reflecting the political climate in Barcelona toward the beginning of the Reapers’ War. Some theatrical works om this period include Firmesa i porfia (Constance and persistence), in which shepherds bemoan the pains of love on the banks of a river, and the Tragicomèdia pastoral d’Amor (Pastoral tragicomedy of Love). His Panegíric a la mort de Pau Claris (1641; Panegyric on the death of Pau Claris) perhaps best exemplifies how his poetic work touches on themes of love, religion, and politics. Inspired by the many scenic landscapes he saw as he accompanied his brother the ambassador on a trip to Münster, Fontanella also wrote poems to give to his iends. [ 346 ]

Fontanella’s life and work both changed significantly aer he was forced to flee to Perpignan. His poetry moved om amorous and euphoric themes to religious and pessimistic ones. e works produced toward the end of the Reapers’ War no longer possess the optimistic tone of those wrien at the beginning. For example, in his famous Lo desengany (1650; Disillusionment), a mythological poem that remarks on the disillusionment of Mars, critics point out its grotesque elements and the image it presents of love as fleeting.

[ 347 ]

Oh, dures fletxes de mon fat rompudes a la mort de nise Oh, dures fletxes de mon fat rompudes, rompudes per ferir més doloroses, que, llevant-me les plomes amoroses, deixau al cor les puntes més agudes! Flames més eclipsades que vençudes, aurores algun dia lluminoses, ombres ja de ma vista tenebroses, tenebroses, mortals, però volgudes. Principi trist de penes inhumanes, terme feliç de l’ànima afligida que per alívio son dolor adora; fletxes sereu i flames soberanes si llevau a mon cor la trista vida per donar a mos ulls eterna aurora.

Passen edats i vides Passen edats i vides ab moviment subtil, les unes nos segueixen, a les altres seguim. Los anys se precipiten tan veloçment al fi, que és començar a víurer començar a morir. Los termes corresponen en cercle repetit: lo que un sospir anima acaba altre sospir. Aquell alat i coixo, que és nou sempre i antic, la dalla té per véncer, les ales per fugir. [ 348 ]

on nise’s death Oh, hard, broken arrows of my fate, broken to make the wound even more painful, you take om me the feathers of love and leave in my heart the sharpest of points! Flames more eclipsed than extinguished, daybreaks once luminous, now tenebrous shadows before my eyes— tenebrous, deadly, but desired. Sad principle of inhuman sufferings, happy end of the afflicted soul that, to alleviate its suffering, comes to love the pain. Glorious arrows and flames you will be if you take my heart om this sad life and give to my eyes eternal daybreak.

Ages and Lives Pass

5

10

15

Ages and lives pass with subtle movement; some follow us, others we follow. e years hurry so quickly toward the end that to begin to die is to begin to live. e ends correspond in a repeated circle: what one sigh animates, another sigh ends. at winged and hobbled one, always new and old, has the scythe for conquering, the wings for fleeing. [ 349 ]

* Francesc Fontanella *

Oh, Hard, Broken Arrows of My Fate

Fugen volant les hores, i en globus cristal·lins la pols que cau desperta a la que està dormint. Plora la font al nàixer lo breu de son camí, del bressol d’esmeralda a l’urna de safir, quan ab agenes aigües inunda lo jardí, si riu no la sepulta, se precipita al riu. Vola vaixell superbo ab les ales de lli i troba lo nauagi tan prest com lo perill. A la dubtosa vida ab lo crepúscol ix la meravella bella en son primer matí. A la viola dèbil, al girasol altiu, mortalla són comuna los tendres gessamins. És en florida esfera agant emperatriç efímera de nacre, cometa de carmí. Ni sa guarda espinosa ha pogut encobrir a la invisible Parca de sa verdor lo fil. Des del més noble lliri fins al clavell més viu, totes les flors acaben sols de l’haver florit. Si fuig la nit vençuda, en va l’alba se’n riu, pus que venja lo dia les mengües de la nit. No canten la victòria [ 350 ]

25

30

35

40

45

50

55

[ 351 ]

* Francesc Fontanella *

20

e hours fly by, and in crystalline globes, the dust that falls wakes that which is sleeping. Upon being born, the spring weeps for the brevity of its course: om the emerald cradle to the sapphire urn, when with other waters it floods the garden, it hurries to the river if a river does not come to bury it. e ship flies superbly with wings of linen, and it meets shipwreck as quickly as peril. To a life of uncertainty, it is with twilight that beauteous wonder emerges on its first morning. e shroud is common to the ail violet, to the tall sunflower, to the tender jasmine. In the flowery sphere, it is the agrant empress, fleeting mother-of-pearl, comet of carmine. Not even its thorny protection is enough to conceal its thread of greenness om silent death. From the noblest iris to the most vibrant carnation, all flowers die like suns upon blooming. If the conquered night flees, the dawn laughs at it in vain, since day conquers the waning of the night. e festive birds

los ocellets festius, si causa son eclipse qui la fa resplendir. Del temps lo gran monarca, del temps no s’eximí, si principi de viure, exemple de morir. D’esta manera passen mos dies fugitius, que no els tinc per mos dies, pus són los que no tinc. Si per los que passaren altres han de venir, uns són de l’esperança, los altres de l’olvit. Mes olvit favorable contra mals envellits que, renovant memòries, aumenten lo perill. Desconec la figura de mi mateix en mi, tots los colors confusos, mudats tots los perfils. Tan lluny d’aquella imatge del gran pintor diví, que sols la pot conèixer qui la pot corregir. Anticipat cadàver, si no sepulcre trist, de mortes altiveses i de cuidados vius. Del llum resten les ombres, del foc la cendra vil, del cos lo tronc inútil i del cor lo patir. Mes, pus la vida tota és un punt infeliç, pensem en altra vida que és nostra fi sens fi.

[ 352 ]

65

70

75

80

85

90

95

[ 353 ]

* Francesc Fontanella *

60

do not sing of victory if what causes its eclipse is also what makes it shine. e great monarch does not liberate himself om time; the beginning of life is but an example of death. In this way, my fleeting days pass, which I do not consider my days, since they are not really mine. But for all those who pass on, others must come; some of these bring hope, others oblivion. But oblivion is beneficial against ancient troubles that, by reviving memories, increase the danger. I do not recognize the figure of myself in me; all the colors are confused, and all the profiles are changed. So far away am I om that great divine painter’s image that the only one who can recognize it is He who can correct it. Soon-to-be cadaver, if not for a sad sepulchre, you live for dead arrogance and living cares. e shadows remain om the light, the vile ash om the fire, the useless torso om the body, the suffering om the heart. Since our entire life is but an unhappy point, we think about another life that is our end without end.

gregório de matos (1636–1696)

Gregório de Matos was born in Bahia, Brazil. His mother was also born in Brazil; his father was a low-ranking nobleman om Arcos de Val-de-Vez, Portugal, who had made a fortune in the sugar industry. e youngest of three brothers, Matos entered the Colégio dos Jesuítas at the age of fourteen. He proved to be a talented student and traveled to Portugal to complete his studies. He arrived in Lisbon in 1650 and then went on to Coimbra in 1652. Aer graduating om the University of Coimbra in 1661, Matos married his first wife, Michaela de Andrade, before becoming a lawyer and magistrate. In 1663 he was named judge in Alcácer do Sal, and in 1668 he represented Bahia in the Lisbon courts. Matos also took minor orders in 1682, one year before ending his thirty-year tenure in Portugal to return to Brazil. He had discovered that the legal profession was not for him, and om then on he concentrated his efforts on poetry. Aer the archbishop João da Madre de Deus revoked Matos’s orders because he had refused to wear his cassock, Matos started writing satirical poetry. His profane, carnivalesque language ridiculed the system by evoking laughter. He ridiculed Bahian society on all levels, but especially church officials. Matos created many enemies with his grotesque poetic aacks; he was denounced by the Inquisition in Bahia in 1685 and, as a result, was given the nickname Boca do Inferno (Mouth of Hell). He was not aaid to criticize specific members of the colonial administration in Brazil, particularly António Luís de Sousa and his replacement, António Luís Gonçalves da Câmara Coutinho. In fact, in 1694 Matos was forced to flee Brazil to Angola in order to escape death threats om Câmara Coutinho’s son. anks to a pardon om King Pedro II in return for his having helped the local government quash a military insurrection, Matos was able to return to Brazil (though not to Bahia), but he died shortly aerward in Recife of a fever that he had caught in Angola. [ 354 ]

While he is best known for his biting satire, Matos also composed sacred lyric and other poems with a more sober tone. He was a reader of Camões, for example, and treated the subjects of change and universal instability with austerity. Matos’s poetic work circulated in manuscript form for nearly two centuries before Francisco Adolfo de Varnhagen published thirty-nine of his poems in an anthology titled Florilégio da poesia brasileira (Florilegium of Brazilian poetry) in Lisbon (1850). Additional poems, excluding pornographic ones, were published by Aânio Peixoto at the Brazilian Academy of Leers before the remainder of his known poems were published by James Amado in 1968. Matos’s verses still resonate with Brazilians today, as is evidenced by the fact that Caetano Veloso put one of Matos’s sonnets, “Triste Bahia, ó quão dessemelhante” (Sad Bahia, oh, how dissimilar), to music in 1972 as an allegory for Brazil under military dictatorship.

[ 355 ]

Oh, não te espantes não, Dom Antónia retrato do governador antónio de sousa de menezes, chamado “o braço de prata” Oh, não te espantes não, Dom Antónia, que se atreva a Bahia com exprimida voz, com plectro esguio cantar ao mundo teu rico feitio, que é já velho em poetas elegantes o cair em torpezas semelhantes. Da pulga acho, que Ovídio tem já escrito, Lucano do mosquito, das rãs Homero, e destes não desprezo, que escreveram matérias de mais peso do que eu, que canto cousa mais delgada, mais chata, mais sutil, mais esmagada. Quando desembarcaste da agata, meu Dom Braço de Prata, cuidei, que a esta cidade tonta, e fátua mandava a Inquisição alguma estátua vendo tão expremido salvajola visão de palha sobre um mariola. O rosto de azarcão afogueado, e em partes mal untado, tão cheio o corpanzil de godolhões, que o tive por um saco de melões; vi-te o braço pendente da garganta, e nunca prata vi com liga tanta. O bigode fanado feito ao ferro está ali num desterro, e cada pêlo em solidão tão rara, que parece ermitão da sua cara: da cabeleira pois afirmam cegos, que a mandaste comprar no arco dos pregos.

[ 356 ]

portrait of governor antónio de sousa de menezes, nicknamed “silver- arm”

5

10

15

20

25

30

Oh, don’t be ightened, Dom Antonia, that Bahia dares, with its downtrodden voice and slender pick, to sing to the world of your rich figure, for falling into such nastiness has long been the practice of elegant poets. I think that Ovid has wrien of the flea, Lucan of the mosquito, and Homer of the ogs; of these I don’t disapprove, for they write on weightier subjects than I, who sing of of the rangiest, dullest, most tenuous, most worn-out thing. When you disembarked om the igate, my dom Silver-Arm, I thought that the Inquisition was sending to this stupid and fatuous city some statue, seeing such a wrung-out and savage vision of straw resting on a crook. Your face was red-orange as if strangled, and in parts badly faened, your corpulent body so full of boils that I thought it was a sack of melons; I saw that arm hanging down om your throat, and never had I seen silver looking so much like tin. Your limp mustache made of iron is banished there, and each hair exists in such rare desolation that it seems the hermitage of your face: your head of hair, well, blind men affirm that you ordered it om a pawnshop.

[ 357 ]

* Gregório de Matos *

Oh, Don’t be Frightened, Dom Antonia

Olhos cagões, que cagam sempre à porta, me têm esta alma torta, principalmente vendo-lhe as vidraças no grosseiro caixilho das couraças: cangalhas, que formaram luminosas sobre arcos de pipa duas ventosas. De muito cego, e não de malquerer a ninguém podes ver; tão cego és, que não vês teu prejuízo sendo cousa, que se olha com juízo: tu és mais cego do que eu, que te sussurro, que em te olhando, não vejo mais que um burro. Chato o nariz de cocras sempre posto: te cobre todo o rosto, de gatinhas buscando algum jazigo adonde o desconheçam por embigo: até que se esconde, onde mal o vejo por fugir do fedor do teu bocejo. Faz-lhe tal vizinhança a tua boca, que com razão não pouca o nariz se recolhe para o centro mudado para os baixos lá de dentro: surge outra vez, e vendo a bafarada lhe fica a ponta um dia ali engasgada. Pernas, e pés defendem tua cara: valha-te, e quem cuidara, tomando-te a medida das cavernas se movesse tal corpo com tais pernas! Cuidei, que eras rocim das Alpujarras, e já isão te digo pelas garras. Um casaquim trazias sobre o couro, qual odre, a quem o Touro uma, e outra cornada deu traidora, e lhe deitou de todo o vento fora; tal vinha o teu vestido de enrugado, que o tive por um odre esfuracado. [ 358 ]

40

45

50

55

60

65

Very blind, and not out of spite, you can’t see anyone; you’re so blind that you don’t see your own detriment; you see it as discernment. You are blinder than I, who whisper to you that in looking at you I see nothing more than an ass. Flat-faced, your nose always squaing, it covers your whole face; on all fours it looks for a resting place where they might mistake it for a navel; until it hides where I can barely see it, having fled the putrid stench of your bad breath. Your mouth creates such a community that with good reason your nose flees to the middle of your face. Having moved down toward the low parts there inside, it emerges again, and once it sees a puff of your bad breath it stays there on the tip, choking. Legs and feet defend your face: God help you; and who would think, upon measuring your cavities, that such a body could move with such legs! I thought you were an Alpujarras hack, or even a Frisian based on those big hooves of yours. A lile jacket you wore over your leather hide, that wineskin to which the bull has more than once given a treacherous horning, leaving everything out in the wind; your clothing was so wrinkled that I thought it was a perforated wineskin. [ 359 ]

* Gregório de Matos *

35

ose shiy eyes, always shiing at the door, make my soul sick, above all seeing you wearing those window panes in that cheap armored ame: eyeglasses that became luminous on two windy metal hoops.

O que te vir ser todo rabadilha dirá que te perfilha uma quaresma (chato percevejo) por Arenque de fumo, ou por Badejo: sem carne, e osso, quem há ali, que creia, senão que és descendente de Lampreia? Livre-te Deus de um Sapateiro, ou Sastre, que te temo um desastre, e é, que por sovela, ou por agulha arme sobre levar-te alguma bulha: porque depositando-te à justiça será num agulheiro, ou em cortiça. Na esquerda mão trazias a bengala e, ou por força, ou por gala: no sovaco por vezes a metias, só por fazer enfim descortesias, tirando ao povo, quando te destapas, entonces o chapéu, agora as capas. Fundia-se a cidade em carcajadas, vendo as duas entradas, que fizeste do mar a Santo Inácio, e depois do colégio a teu palácio: o rabo erguido em cortesias mudas, Como quem pelo cu tomava ajudas. Ao teu palácio te acolheste, e logo casa armaste de jogo, ordenando as merendas por tal jeito, que a cada jogador cabe um confeito: dos tafuis um confeito era um bocado, sendo tu pela cara o enforcado. Depois deste em fazer tanta parvoíce, que ainda que o povo risse ao princípio, cresceu depois a tanto, que chegou a chorar com triste pranto: chora-te o nu de um roubador de falso, E vendo-te eu direito, me descalço. [ 360 ]

75

80

85

90

95

100

May God ee you om any cobbler or tailor, for I fear it’ll end in disaster, as it’s with an awl or a needle that any squabbler can take you on: because if you’re brought to justice it’ll be on a pincushion or stuck in a cork. In your le hand you carried a cane, either out of necessity or to show off: at times you’d stick it in your armpit just to be endlessly obscene, stripping the people when you uncover yourself, first your hat, now your cloak. e city melded together in bursts of laughter seeing your two entrances, the one you made om the sea at St. Ignatius, and then om the Jesuit college to your palace: your ass lied up in muted curtsies, like someone who had just taken a suppository. You welcomed yourself to your palace and then you set up the house for card games, arranging the snacks in such a way that there’s a candy for each player: for the habitual players each candy was a mouthful, and you the hanged man.180 Aer all this stupid silliness, even if the public laughed in the beginning, it got to the point that the people started to weep bierly: the naked man outs you as a false thief; seeing you, I laugh so hard my my shoes fall off. [ 361 ]

* Gregório de Matos *

70

What appears to you to be a chicken’s ass will only say that it sees you during Lent (flat-faced bug) as a smoked herring or as a grouper: lacking meat and bones, who goes there, one might wonder, if not a descendant of the lamprey?

Xinga-te o negro, o branco te pragueja, e a ti nada te aleija, e por teu sem-sabor, e pouca graça és fábula do lar, riso da praça, té que a bala, que o braço te levara, venha segunda vez levar-te a cara.

A vós correndo vou, braços sagrados A vós correndo vou, braços sagrados, nessa cruz sacrossanta descobertos, que, para receber-me, estais abertos, e, por não castigar-me, estais cravados. A vós, divinos olhos, eclipsados de tanto sangue e lágrimas abertos, pois, para perdoar-me, estais despertos, e, por não condenar-me, estais fechados. A vós, pregados pés, por não deixar-me, a vós, sangue vertido, para ungir-me, a vós, cabeça baixa, p’ra chamar-me; a vós, lado patente, quero unir-me, a vós, cravos preciosos, quero atar-me, para ficar unido, atado e firme.

Há cousa como ver um Paiaiá aos mesmos caramurus Há cousa como ver um Paiaiá, mui prezado de ser Caramuru, descendente do sangue de Tatu, cujo torpe idioma é cobé pá? A linha feminina é carimá moqueca, pititinga, caruru

[ 362 ]

To You I Go Running, Holy Arms To you I go running, holy arms, uncovered on that inviolable cross; to receive me you are open, to save me you are fixed with nails. To you, divine eyes, now darkened, open to so much blood and so many tears; to forgive me you remain alert, to rescue me you remain closed. To you, blessed feet, for not leaving me, to you, spilled blood, to anoint me, to you, bowed head, to call me. To you, exposed flank, I wish to join myself; to you, precious nails, I wish to tie myself, in order to remain united, tied, and firm.

Is ere Anything like a Paiaiá to the caramurus 181 Is there anything like a Paiaiá182 so proud of being a Caramuru, descendant of the Tatu183 line, whose gawky language is cobe pá?184 e feminine line is wholly carimá:185 a stew, fishy soup, caruru,186

[ 363 ]

* Gregório de Matos *

105

e black man blames you, the white man curses you, and yet nothing harms you; for your insipidness and lile grace, you are a homespun fable, the laughingstock of the city, until the bullet that took off your arm should come back to take off your face.

mingau de puba, e vinho de caju pisado num pilão de Piraguá. A masculina é um Aricobé cuja filha Cobé um branco Paí dormiu no promontório de Passé. O branco era um marau, que veio aqui; ela era uma índia de Maré Cobé pá, Aricobé, Cobé Paí.

[ 364 ]

e masculine line begins with Aricobé, whose daughter Cobé bedded a French pirate on the promontory of Passé. e white man was a scoundrel who came here; she was an Indian om Maré. Cobé pá, Aricobé, Cobé Frenchman.

[ 365 ]

* Gregório de Matos *

mush, and a wine made om cashew pressed out with a mortar om Piraguá.

sor juana inés de la cruz (1649?–1695)

Juana Inés de Asbaje y Ramirez de Santillana was born in San Miguel Nepantla, Mexico. e illegitimate daughter of a Spanish captain and a criollo woman, she grew up in her maternal grandfather’s country home and developed her love for learning in his library. As an adolescent, she was invited to court by the Spanish viceroy Antonio Sebastián de Toledo to serve as a lady-in-waiting. During her time at the colonial court, she debated with many of Mexico’s most educated men and composed several poetic works. Aer serving in the viceroy’s court, Juana entered the Convent of the Carmelitas Descalzas de San José in 1667, but she found the rules to be too strict. In 1669 she entered a Hieronymite convent, where the rules allowed her to continue to engage in intellectual debates with those residing outside the convent’s walls and maintain iendly relations with the viceroy of New Spain, Tomás de la Cerda (1638–92), and his wife, María Luisa Manrique de Lara y Gonzaga. In fact, when the viceroy and his wife returned to Spain om Mexico in 1688, Manrique de Lara y Gonzaga went so far as to supervise the publication of an anthology of Sor Juana’s poetry under the title Inundación castálida (Overflowing of the Castalian spring). Aer Tomás de la Cerda and María Luisa Manrique de Lara y Gonzaga returned to Spain, Juana no longer enjoyed their protection. ough politically more vulnerable than before, she continued at the foreont of intellectual life in colonial Mexico. Her critique of a sermon by the Portuguese Jesuit António Vieira (1608–97) was published under the title Carta atenagórica (Leer worthy of Athena); this edition included a leer, written under the pen name Sor Filotea de la Cruz, which chided Juana for her intellectualism. In 1691 she wrote La respuesta a Sor Filotea (e response to

[ 366 ]

Sister Philothea), a leer in which she defended herself and women’s right to education. With that leer, she ceased writing until her death in 1695. Given this brief biography, it is perhaps no surprise that Sor Juana has been called the first feminist of the New World. In addition to defending women’s right to education, she is considered a great poetic technician. Her works show a mastery over several strophic forms, including sonnets, ballads, décimas, and ovillejos, and elevated vocabulary, mythological allusions, hyperbaton (learned om Góngora), and play on concepts.

[ 367 ]

Este, que ves, engaño colorido procura desmentir los elogios a un retrato de la poetisa insciribió 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.

Rosa divina que en gentil cultura en que da moral censura a una rosa, y en ella a sus semejantes Rosa divina que en gentil cultura eres, con tu agante sutileza, magisterio purpúreo en la belleza, enseñanza nevada a la hermosura. Amago de la humana arquitectura, ejemplo de la vana gentileza, en cuyo ser unió naturaleza la cuna alegre y triste sepultura.

[ 368 ]

she attempts to deny the praise that the truth, which she calls passion, inscribed on a portrait of her is colorful deceit that you see, showing art’s skill, with its false syllogisms of colors, is but a cray deceit of the senses; is, in which flaery has tried to elude the horror of the passing years, and conquer the rigors of time so as to triumph over age and oblivion, is a vain artifice carefully produced, is a delicate flower in the wind, is a useless safeguard om fate; is a foolish, botched endeavor, is a short-lived effort and, as all may see, is a cadaver, is dust, is a shade, is nothing.

Divine Rose So Remarkably Cultivated in which she gives moral judgment to a rose, and through it, to her fellow humans Divine rose so remarkably cultivated, you are, with your agrant subtlety, a crimson instruction in grace, a snow-white course in beauty. Symbol of human architecture, example of vain gentility, in whose being nature linked the happy cradle and the sad tomb.

[ 369 ]

* Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz *

is Colorful Deceit at You See

¡Cuán altiva en tu pompa, presumida, soberbia, el riesgo de morir desdeñas, y luego desmayada y encogida de tu caduco ser das mustias señas, con que con docta muerte y necia vida viviendo engañas y muriendo enseñas!

Verde embeleso de la vida humana Verde embeleso de la vida humana, loca esperanza, enesí dorado, sueño de los despiertos intrincado, como de sueños, de tesoros vana; alma del mundo, senectud lozana, decrépito verdor imaginado; el hoy de los dichosos esperado y de los desdichados el mañana: sigan tu sombra en busca de tu día los que, con verdes vidrios por anteojos, todo lo ven pintado a su deseo; que yo, más cuerda en la fortuna mía, tengo en entrambas manos ambos ojos y solamente lo que toco veo.

Hombres necios que acusáis arguye de inconsecuentes el gusto y la censura de los hombres que en las mujeres acusan lo que causan Hombres necios que acusáis a la mujer sin razón, sin ver que sois la ocasión de lo mismo que culpáis:

[ 370 ]

you give off withered signs of your declining being, with which, through your learned death and silly life, you mislead by living and instruct by dying!

Green Allure of Human Life Green allure of human life, mad hope, golden enzy, complex dream of the waking, a vain illusion of both dreams and treasures; soul of the world, vigorous senectitude, decrepit imagined greenness; today wished for by the fortunate and tomorrow by the unfortunate: May they follow your shade in search of your day— those who, with green-tinted glasses, see everything painted by their desire; I, more prudent in my fortune, hold my eyes in both hands and see only what I touch.

Stupid Men Who Wrongly Accuse Women she points out the inherent inconsistency in the tastes and censure of men who denounce in women what they themselves have caused Stupid men who wrongly accuse women, not seeing that you are the very cause of what you blame:

[ 371 ]

* Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz *

How haughty you are in your pomp, conceited, proud; you scorn the risk of death, and later, faint and shrunken,

si con ansia sin igual solicitáis su desdén, ¿por qué queréis que obren bien si las incitáis al mal? Combatís su resistencia y luego, con gravedad, decís que fue liviandad lo que hizo la diligencia. Parecer quiere el denuedo de vuestro parecer loco, al niño que pone el coco y luego le tiene miedo. Queréis, con presunción necia, hallar a la que buscáis, para pretendida, ais, y en la posesión, Lucrecia. ¿Qué humor puede ser más raro que el que, falto de consejo, él mismo empaña el espejo y siente que no esté claro? Con el favor y el desdén, tenéis condición igual, quejándoos, si os tratan mal, burlándoos, si os quieren bien. Opinión, ninguna gana; pues la que más se recata, si no os admite, es ingrata, y si os admite, es liviana. Siempre tan necios andáis que, con desigual nivel, a una culpáis por crüel y a otra por fácil culpáis.

[ 372 ]

10

15

20

if, with unequal eagerness, you seek out their disdain, why do you wish them to behave well if you incite them to evil? You beat at their resistance and later, with all seriousness, you say that it was an act of ivolity rather than diligence. e force of your crazy opinion appears to be like the child who creates a bogeyman and later fears him. You want, with foolish anticipation, to find a woman who is ais as you court her187 and Lucretia once she is yours.188 What is more strangely humorous than a man who, lacking good judgment, steams up a mirror and then complains that it is not clear?

25

30

35

With both favor and disdain, you are the same: complaining if they treat you poorly and sneering if they love you well. No woman wins your favor, since she who saves herself by refusing you is ungrateful, and if she submits to you, she is lewd. You always walk around so stupidly that, without fail, you blame one for being cruel and another for being easy.

[ 373 ]

* Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz *

5

¿Pues cómo ha de estar templada la que vuestro amor pretende, si la que es ingrata, ofende, y la que es fácil enfada? Mas, entre el enfado y pena que vuestro gusto refiere, bien haya la que no os quiere y quejáos en hora buena. Dan vuestras amantes penas a sus libertades alas, y después de hacerlas malas las queréis hallar muy buenas. ¿Cuál mayor culpa ha tenido en una pasión errada: la que cae de rogada o el que ruega de caído? ¿O cuál es más de culpar, aunque cualquiera mal haga: la que peca por la paga o el que paga por pecar? Pues, ¿para qué os espantáis de la culpa que tenéis? Queredlas cual las hacéis o hacedlas cual las buscáis. Dejad de solicitar, y después, con más razón, acusaréis la afición de la que os fuere a rogar. Bien con muchas armas fundo que lidia vuestra arrogancia, pues en promesa e instancia juntáis diablo, carne y mundo.

[ 374 ]

But amid the anger and torment that your taste recounts, blessed be she who does not love you, and go complain as much as you like. 45

50

55

60

Your lovers’ woes give wings to their eedom, yet aer making them bad, you want them to be very good. Who is guiltier in a moment of passion gone awry: the woman who falls because she was begged or the fallen man who begs? Or who is more to blame, even though both have acted badly: she who sins for payment or he who pays to sin? So why are you so appalled by your own guilt? Either love them as you make them or make them what you look for. Stop pursuing them and later on, with more reason, you’ll find you have a case against the fondness of the women who seek you out.

65

With many weapons I have shown that your principal weapon is arrogance, since in your promises and pleas you join the devil, the flesh, and the world.

[ 375 ]

* Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz *

40

What happy medium could there be for the one whom your heart desires, if the one who is ungrateful offends you and if the one who is easy angers you?

juan del valle y caviedes (1645?–1697?)

For centuries, Caviedes’s biography was based on a myth. It stated that Caviedes was born in Lima to a Spanish merchant, and at the age of twenty, he went to Spain for the first time, then returned three years later. According to this story, he came into a sizable fortune and lived a life of wasteful extravagance, which le him almost penniless. He then married and spent the last of his wealth in the shops along the Rímac River, for which he obtained the nickname Poeta de la Ribera ‘Poet of the Riverside.’ When his wife died, he supposedly turned to the bole and drank himself to death in 1692. Caviedes’s biography changed considerably in 1937, when the Peruvian scholar Guillermo Lohmann Villena published an article in the Revista Histórica (Historical Review) of Lima. He had discovered the poet’s marriage contract and last will and testament. According to these documents, Caviedes was born in Jaén, in southern Spain, but moved to Lima, Peru, when he was young. His occupation is unknown, but it is believed that he was associated with the mining industry. He married Beatriz de Godoy in 1671, and together they had five children. Since his will listed many debts, his biographers believe that Caviedes was never wealthy. ey also believe that he died sometime between 1696 and 1700, even though his will is dated 1683. During Caviedes’s lifetime, he published three poems. e first is a ballad about the earthquakes that leveled the city of Lima in 1687; the second, a quintilla (limerick) about the arrival of the Count of Monclova in Lima; and the third, a sonnet inserted in a speech about the measles given by Dr. Francisco Bermejo y Roldán. e rest of his poetry circulated in manuscript form during his lifetime. While a few of his poems were published posthumously in the Mercurio Peruano (Peruvian Mercury) in the 1790s, Caviedes would not become a major literary figure until 1873, the [ 376 ]

year in which Manuel de Odriozola published Diente del Parnaso (Tooth of Parnassus), a sustained and mordant aack on the doctors and medical practices of his time, and Poesías serias y jocosas (Serious and playful poems), a collection of Caviedes’s poetry. ough Caviedes penned several poetic works about love and religious figures, the majority of his 265 extant poems and handful of plays are characterized by both a biting wit and a willingness to aack openly the hypocrisies and shortcomings of the colonial Spanish administration of seventeenth-century Peru. Largely because of his highly developed talent for poetic satire, he is oen linked to Francisco de Quevedo, a poet whom he openly admired. His satirical and burlesque poetry hinges on the use of irony, sarcasm, antitheses, hyperboles, and puns, and the language of his poems is at once colloquial and regional in the sense that his work contains words of Quechua origin as well as terms that refer specifically to Andean flora and fauna.

[ 377 ]

El pobre es tonto, si calla privilegios del pobre El pobre es tonto, si calla, y si habla es un majadero; si sabe, es sólo hablador, y si afable, es embustero; si es cortés, entrometido, cuando no sue, soberbio; cobarde, cuando es humilde, y loco, cuando es resuelto. Si valiente, es temerario, presumido, si discreto; adulador, si obedece, y si se excusa, grosero. Si pretende, es atrevido, si merece, es sin aprecio; su nobleza es nada vista, y su gala, sin aseo. Si trabaja, es codicioso, y, por el contrario extremo, un perdido, si descansa. ¡Miren que buen privilegios!

Un mulato por hijo es el más bravo Un mulato por hijo es el más bravo blasón, que a la nobleza da fomento, porque éste guarda el cuarto mandamiento, quebrantando por el todo el octavo. Con honrar a su padre, encubre el rabo, aplaudiéndole de alto nacimiento, primos, duque, le aplica, que es contento, y un rey que, por contera, pone al cabo.

[ 378 ]

the poor man’s privileges

5

10

15

20

e poor man is stupid if silent; and if he speaks, he is an idiot; if he shows knowledge, he is a chaerer; and if he is affable, he is a liar; if he is polite, he is a meddler; when he doesn’t suffer, arrogant; cowardly when he is humble; and crazy when he is resolute; if brave, he is reckless; conceited, if he is modest; flaering, if compliant; and if he begs pardon, coarse; if he shows ambition, he is impudent; if he is deserving, he gets no appreciation; his nobility is unseen, and his best clothes, unclean; if he works, he is greedy, and at the opposite extreme a lost soul if he rests. Look, what wonderful privileges!

Having a Mulao Son Is the Finest Having a mulao son is the finest of honors and fosters true nobility, because he keeps the fourth commandment while totally breaking the eighth.189 In honoring his father he covers his own ass, applauding loudly his high birth; among his cousins he happily claims a duke, and to top it all off, he even throws in a king.

[ 379 ]

* Juan del Valle y Caviedes *

e Poor Man Is Stupid if Silent

Si tras de esto añadiere a su decoro, crïado y quitasol el caballero, es para la nobleza otro tanto oro; y si miente, porfía y es parlero, hallo de ejecutorias un tesoro, porque es gran calidad ser embustero.

[ 380 ]

And if he lies, nags, and is a constant chaerbox, he’ll have a treasure trove of noble pedigrees; because to be deceitful is a sign of high rank.

[ 381 ]

* Juan del Valle y Caviedes *

If aer all this the gentleman adds to his decorum a servant and a wide-brimmed hat, this is but another piece of gold to show off his nobility.

Notes

1. e original text, found in book 1, chapter 28, of Couto’s eighth volume of the Décadas da Ásia (a multivolume project initiated by João de Barros [1496–1570] before his death), reads as follows: “Em Moçambique achámos aquele Príncipe dos Poetas do seu tempo, meu matalote e amigo, Luiz de Camões, tão pobre que comia de amigos; e para se embarcar para o Reino lhe ajuntámos os amigos toda a roupa que houve mister, e não faltou quem lhe desse de comer. E aquele inverno que esteve em Moçambique acabou de aperfeiçoar as suas Lusíadas para as imprimir, e foi escrevendo muito em um livro que ia fazendo, que intitulava Parnaso de Luiz de Camões, livro de muita erudição, doutrina e filosofia, o qual lhe furtaram, e nunca pude saber no Reino dele, por muito que o inquiri, e foi furto notável; e em Portugal morreu este excelente poeta em pura pobreza” (Decada oitava da Ásia [Lisbon: João da Costa and Diogo Soares, 1673], 119). 2. For more on this problem, see Richard Zenith, introduction to Luís de Camões: Sonnets and Other Poems by Luís Vaz de Camões (Dartmouth: University of Massachuses at Dartmouth Press, 2009), 23–27. 3. Ibid., 23. 4. See João Adolfo Hansen, A sátira e o engenho: Gregório de Matos e a Bahia do século XVII (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1989). 5. Pierre Bourdieu, e Logic of Practice, trans. Richard Nice (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1992). Bourdieu defines habitus as “systems of durable, transposable dispositions, structured structures predisposed to function as structuring structures, that is, as principles which generate and organize practices and representations that can be objectively adapted to their outcomes without presupposing a conscious aiming at ends or an express mastery of the operations necessary in order to aain them. Objectively ‘regulated’ and ‘regular’ without being in any way the product of obedience to rules, they can be collectively orchestrated without being the product of the organizing action of a conductor” (53). 6. “According to the grasp of the reader, books have their fates.” 7. Walter Benjamin, “Unpacking My Library,” in Illuminations, ed. Hannah Arendt and trans. Harry Zohn (New York: Schocken Books, 2007), 61. [ 383 ]

8. A good example of this is the Valencian bibliophile and classicist Vicente Salvá y Pérez. In 1826 he published the first of a two-volume catalog of books that he had for sale in his highly respected Spanish and Classical Library located at 124 Regent Street in London (the second volume would appear in 1829). is catalog, titled Catalogue of Spanish and Portuguese Books, with Occasional Literary and Bibliographical Remarks, presents no fewer than 4,253 entries, many of which were (and are) exceedingly rare: a three-volume edition of Luis de Mármol Carvajal’s Descripción general de Aica (General description of Aica; Granada, 1573; Seville, 1599) and the first Spanish edition of Giovanni Boccaccio’s Fiammea (Salamanca, 1497) are among the collection’s many treasures. Salvá’s collection also groups together Iberian works of very different sorts: the collected works of Garcilaso de la Vega, an English translation of Friedrich Bouterwek’s History of Portuguese Literature (London, 1823), and even an 1812 Spanish translation of John Milton’s Paradise Lost are brought together within its pages. What is perhaps most striking about Salvá’s catalog, as well as his collection, is its openly Iberian character. It contains works wrien by Iberian authors in any language (Paulus Orosius [ca. 375–ca. 420], who wrote exclusively in Latin, was born in what is now Bragança [Portugal], and so he is included); works published in any Iberian language, regardless of author (and here Catalan, Euskera, Latin, and Portuguese are placed on more or less equal footing with Castilian—in fact, the only significant gap in Salvá’s collection is its lack of works in Arabic and Hebrew); and anything at all published in Spain, regardless of author or language. In terms of texts in or on Euskera, Salvá’s collection is modest. He lists a 1790 Exercicio spirituala (Spiritual exercise) in the “Biscayan dialect;” Francisco Xavier de Lariz’s bilingual Euskera-Castilian catechism (Madrid, 1773); Manuel de Larramendi’s De la antiguedad y universalidad del bascuenze en España (On the antiquity and universality of the Basque language in Spain; Salamanca, 1740); and Larramendi’s well-known El imposible vencido: Arte de la lengua bascongada (Impossible to defeat: Art of the Basque language; Salamanca, 1729). Salvá’s Portuguese and Catalan collection are much more impressive, as demonstrated by a five-volume edition of the collected works of Luís de Camões (Paris, 1818); Manuel de Faria e Sousa’s edition, with extensive Castilian commentary, on Luís de Camões’s lyric poetry (Lisbon, 1685); the first three volumes of an early edition of João de Barros’s Décadas da Ásia (Decades of Asia; Madrid, 1615); a first edition of Jaume Roig’s Spill (Mirror; Valencia, 1531); and the 1555 Valladolid edition of the collected works of Ausiàs March translated by Jorge de Montemayor. 9. For more on the notion of “literacy event” and “ways of taking,” see Shirley Brice Heath, Ways with Words: Language, Life, and Work in Communities and Classrooms (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). 10. John Pory, A Geographical Historie of Aica, Wrien in Arabicke and Italian by John Leo a More, Borne in Granada, and Brought Up in Barbarie (London: George Bishop, 1600); Luís de Camões, Rimas varias, ed. with commentary by Manuel de Faria e Sousa (Lisbon: eotonio Damaso de Mello, 1685). 11. Walter Benjamin, “e Task of the Translator,” in Illuminations, 76. [ 384 ]

[ 385 ]

* Notes *

12. Ibid., 72. 13. Ibid., 79–80. 14. See, for example, Paul de Man, “Conclusions: Walter Benjamin’s ‘e Task of the Translator,’ ” Messenger Lecture, Cornell University, March 4, 1983, Yale French Studies, no. 69 (1985): 25–46. 15. Benjamin, “Task of the Translator,” 81. e source for this idea can be found in Rudolf Pannwitz, Die Krisis der europäischen Kultur (Nuremberg: Hans Carl, 1917). 16. Emmanuel Levinas, “Is Ontology Fundamental?” in Entre Nous: inking-of-the-Other, trans. Michael B. Smith and Barbara Harshav (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 10. 17. Simon Critchley, introduction to e Cambridge Companion to Levinas, ed. Simon Critchley and Robert Bernasconi (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 12. For more on the question of Levinas and literature, see Jill Robbins, Altered Reading: Levinas and Literature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999). 18. For more on St. Jerome and the concept of faithful translation, see Mona Baker, ed., Routledge Encyclopedia of Translation Studies (London: Routledge, 1998), 114–15. 19. “What sort of god shall I say you are, two-formed Janus?” In Roman mythology, Janus was the god of beginnings and transitions. He was normally represented with two faces, one looking forward and the other looking back. 20. e Tagus is the largest river in the Iberian Peninsula, flowing om Aragon southwest through Lisbon and to the Atlantic Ocean. e Guadiana is a smaller river that flows through southern Spain and Portugal. Before the nineteenth century, the Guadiana was believed to flow underground for part of its course, which perhaps explains the Marqués de Santillana’s description of it as enferma. e Guadalquivir is a river in southern Spain that flows om Jaén through Córdoba and Granada before meeting the Atlantic Ocean at the Bay of Cádiz. In this sonnet, the Guadalquivir is likely associated in some way with the person who serves as the lyric voice’s object of desire. 21. A reference to the fluid (and highly eroticized) border zone between the Crown of Castile and the Kingdom of Granada. 22. Hinojosa is a small town near Córdoba; the Marqués de Santillana is believed to have composed this serranilla during a stay there in 1431. 23. Linda M. Paterson, e World of the Troubadours: Medieval Occitan Society, c. 1100–c. 1300 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 1. 24. Alt is an Old Catalan noun that is generally translated as “pleasure” or “satisfaction of the appetite”; in this case, however, it refers specifically to the initial high or excited mental state that accompanies seeing one’s beloved. For more on this concept, see Lluís Cabré, “From Ausiàs March to Petrarch: Torroella, Urrea, and Other Ausimarchides,” in e Medieval Mind: Hispanic Studies in Honour of Alan Deyermond, edited by Ian Macpherson and Ralph Penny (London: Tamesis, 1997), 57–74. 25. e Old Catalan term colgar has an ample semantic range. It can mean “to lie down in bed,” “to bury,” “to go to bed with,” “to lie down to rest,” “to relax,” and “to let loose.”

26. Janus de Lusignan (1398–1432); king of Cyprus during the Crusades, he was taken prisoner by Muslims and supposedly never laughed again. 27. According to Greek mythology, Tityos was a giant who aempted to rape Leto; in late medieval medical treatises, the liver was commonly understood to be the organ that initiates sexual desire. 28. Salamanders were popularly thought to be able to live in fire. See, for example, Aristotle, Historia animalium 5.19: “Now the salamander is a clear case in point, to show us that animals do actually exist that fire cannot destroy; for this creature, so the story goes, not only walks through the fire but puts it out in doing so.” 29. “los de la Llei vella / those of the old Law”: i.e., the Jews. 30. e phoenix is a mythological creature that builds its own funeral pyre in the form of a nest. e nest ignites, burning both the bird and its final dwelling place. From the ashes, a new phoenix arises. 31. According to Greek mythology, Helen was the daughter of Zeus and a mortal woman, Leda. Helen married Menelaus, the king of Sparta, but when Paris, a Trojan prince, came to visit, he seduced Helen and took her with him back to Troy. is abduction (or perhaps elopement) was the event that sparked the Trojan War. 32. Agnus castus was called the “chasteberry” because it was thought to be an anaphrodisiac. 33. Turtledoves are traditional symbols of fidelity. 34. Dámaso Alonso, commentary on Gil Vicente, Poesías, edited by Alonso (Mexico City: Seneca, 1940), 16. 35. At the end of the fieenth century (1492 in Castile and Aragon and 1497 in Portugal), Iberian Jews were forced to convert to Christianity or go into exile. e same order would be applied to Portuguese Muslims in 1497, while in Castile and Aragon, Muslims would not be forced to convert until 1502 and 1526, respectively. ese converts were oen referred to as “New Christians.” 36. não mouro: wordplay that also suggests não morro (I’m not dying). roughout the poem there is consistent play between the noun mouro (Muslim) and the verb morrer (to die). 37. Moura ela e mouro eu: wordplay that also suggests morra ela, e morro eu (may she die, and I am dying). 38. A reference to the Ooman sultan, who at the time of the publication of the Cancioneiro geral was Selim I. Selim I’s reign was a period of great expansion for the Ooman Empire, most notably the conquest of the Mamluk Sultanate of Egypt in 1517. 39. For more on the concept of saudade, see Patrick Ferrell, “Portuguese Saudade and Other Emotions of Absence and Longing,” in Semantic Primes and Universal Grammar, ed. Bert Peeters, 235–59 (Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 2006). 40. Diego Rodríguez de Lucero, an inquisitor in Córdoba om 1499 to 1508. 41. A reference to Martin Luther (1483–1546). 42. e Anabaptists were Reformed Christians who upheld the idea that Christians need to profess their faith in order to be followers of Christ; for this reason, they rejected infant baptism. [ 386 ]

[ 387 ]

* Notes *

43. at is, followers of the Italian poet Francesco Petrarch (1304–74). 44. Juan de Mena (1411–56), a poet and a royal chronicler famous for his love poetry and the allegorical poem Laberinto de Fortuna (Labyrinth of Fortune). 45. Jorge Manrique (1440–79), a Castilian poet whose most famous work is the Coplas a la muerte de su padre (Stanzas for the death of his father). 46. Garci Sánchez de Badajoz (1460–1526), a poet famous for his cancionero poetry. 47. Pedro de Cartagena (1456–86), a cancionero poet whose work appeared in Hernando de Castillo’s 1511 Cancionero general (General songbook). 48. Bartolomé de Torres Naharro (1485?–1540), a famous playwright who lived several years in Rome and Naples. 49. e preceding are all traditional forms of Castilian poetry. 50. Oava rima and terza rima are Italian poetic forms. 51. Liciones de Job apropiadas a las pasiones de amor (Readings of Job adapted to the passions of love) was a lyric reworking of the biblical book of Job composed by Garci Sánchez de Badajoz. 52. An estancia is a traditonal Castilian strophic form. 53. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza (1503–75) was a diplomat under Charles V and a poet. 54. In Roman mythology, Venus was the goddess of erotic love. 55. Del dolor vano (of useless pain): See the van dolore of Petrarch in “Voi ch’ascoltate.” 56. Sisyphus is a Roman mythological figure that was famous for killing travelers and guests. His hell consisted of endlessly rolling a boulder up a hill and then watching it roll back down. 57. See Garcilaso de la Vega, Poesía castellana completa, ed. Consuelo Burell (Madrid: Cátedra, 1976), 205. 58. La Goulee (Ar. Halq al-Wa¯dı¯) is the port of Tunis. In 1535, the forces of ˙ Carlos V and Genoese admiral Andrea Doria (1466–1560) successfully captured the port and went on to take the city of Tunis. Garcilaso participated in the campaign at La Goulee and was rewarded by Carlos V for his bravery. 59. In Roman mythology, Mars was the god of war. 60. at is, with blood. 61. A mythological reference to the Carthaginian queen Dido, who appears in Virgil’s Aeneid. According to Virgil’s version of events, Venus (the Roman goddess of love) has Dido fall in love with Aeneas so as to secure for him a safe harbor on his voyage to Italy. Dido comes to depend on Aeneas and his men to defend her city, which was situated not far om the present location of Tunis. Aeneas abandons her, however, and she commits suicide (stabbing herself with Aeneas’s sword and leaping on their burning bed) when she realizes that her city will be lost to an invading army. is is also likely a historical reference to the Roman demolition of Carthage at the end of the ird Punic War. 62. A complex and dense reference to Dido (see, for example, Aeneid 4.22: “Adgnosco veteris vestigia flammae” ‘I recognize the signs of the old flame’). is is

likely also another reference to the destruction of Carthage at the end of the ird Punic War, an account of which is found in Polybius. 63. is ode is wrien on behalf of the poet’s iend Fabio Galeota, who was in love with the Neapolitan lady Violante Sanseverino, daughter of the Duke of Soma. By calling Violante the “Flower of Gnido,” Garcilaso is referring to Il Seggio di Gnido (the Seat of Gnido), a fashionable sector of Naples in which Violante happened to live. 64. See note 59. 65. In Greek mythology, Anaxarete was a girl om Cyprus who refused the amorous advances of a shepherd named Iphis. In despair, he commied suicide on her doorstep. She remained unmoved, and so as punishment Venus turned her into stone. 66. Garcilaso is arguing here that Violante is less moved to compassion than even Anaxarete. 67. In Greek mythology, a spirit of divine retribution. 68. Normally identified with doña María Osorio de Pimentel, wife of don Pedro de Toledo, viceroy of the Kingdom of Naples. 69. In Greek mythology, this river formed the boundary between Earth and the Underworld. 70. A reference to Apollo as Greek god of poetry and the nine muses: Calliope (epic poetry); Clio (history); Erato (love poetry); Euterpe (lyric poetry); Melpomene (tragedy); Polyhymnia (sacred poetry); Terpsichore (choral dance and song); alia (comedy); Urania (astronomy). 71. See note 59. 72. Luís de Camões would take up this conceit of the soldier-poet some decades later in canto 7 (str. 79, 8) of Os Lusíadas: “Numa mão sempre a espada, e noutra a pena” ‘In one hand the sword, and in the other a pen.’ 73. For more on the Tagus River, see note 2. 74. Apelles and Timanthes were famous Greek painters om the fourth century BCE. 75. A river flowing through race and Macedonia, to which Orpheus retreated aer the death of Eurydice. 76. A reference to Orpheus, who was believed to have been om race. 77. According to Greek mythology, Eurydice was a nymph and the wife of Orpheus. One day she stepped on a venomous snake and died instantly. Orpheus traveled to the Underworld to retrieve her, soening the hearts of all there with his singing. He was allowed to take her back to the world of the living on the condition that he walk in ont of her and not look back. Just as they reached the gates of Hades and daylight, however, he turned to look at her, and Eurydice disappeared forever. 78. According to Greek mythology (much reworked by Ovid in his Metamorphoses), Daphne was a nymph and daughter of the river god Peneus who became, through the vengeful intercession of Cupid, an object of desire for Apollo. Responding to an insult, Cupid shoots Apollo with an arrow of gold to make him fall in love with Daphne, while shooting her with an arrow of lead to ensure that she will [ 388 ]

[ 389 ]

* Notes *

not love him. Apollo begins to chase Daphne, and as she runs she begs her father to save her. As Apollo catches up to her, she is transformed into a laurel tree. Apollo embraces her trunk and declares the laurel a sacred tree. 79. In Greek mythology, Adonis was the young lover of Aphrodite (Roman Venus). He was killed by a wild boar while hunting and died in her arms. 80. A reference to Toledo. 81. is painting describes the city of Toledo. 82. is is a mythical story of Garcilaso’s own invention. It is generally thought that Nemoroso is Garcilaso himself and that Elisa is the Portuguese lady-in-waiting Isabel Freire, with whom the poet was in love. Tragically for Garcilaso, she married a Portuguese nobleman (António de Fonseca) and died while giving birth to their first child. 83. Lusitania refers to Portugal, and the Lusitanian sea would thus be the Atlantic Ocean, into which the Tagus flows. 84. In Roman mythology, Neptune was the god of the sea. 85. e west wind, according to Greek and Roman mythology. 86. e rivers Tagus, Douro, Zêzere, Minho, Guadiana, Mondego, Tua, Ave, Vouga, Neiva, and Lima flow through Portugal. is sonnet is a reworking of Francesco Petrarch’s “Non Tesin, Po, Varo, Arno, Adige et Tebro.” 87. e modern-day Jhelum River in Pakistan. e river is famous in classical history and literature as the site of the last set-piece bale (against King Porus) of Alexander the Great’s Asian campaign. 88. e Tana River is the longest river in Kenya. 89. A reference to Venus and, by extension, love. See, for example, Dante’s Paradiso, cantos 8 and 9. 90. Compare this sonnet to Luís de Camões’s “Eu cantarei de amor tão docemente” (I would sing of love so sweetly) and the two poems’ common source, Francesco Petrarch’s “Io canterei d’amor si novamente” (I would sing of love in so esh a way). 91. King Roderick was the last of the Visigothic kings before the Muslim invasion of the Iberian Peninsula in 711. e legend of King Roderick and La Cava states that the king fell in love with his general’s beautiful daughter La Cava, who tells her father, Count Julian, of the king’s sexual advances. Out of anger and a desire for revenge, Julian helps the Muslims to invade. 92. See note 59. 93. In Greek mythology, Aeolus was the ruler of the winds. 94. Betis is the ancient name of the Guadalquivir River. 95. See note 59. 96. See note 59. 97. In Roman mythology, Jupiter was the king of the gods, associated with the heavens and thunder. 98. In Roman mythology, Saturn was the god of agriculture and the harvest. He was also associated with Cronos, the Titan father of Jupiter, and his reign was considered a time of great peace and prosperity, a kind of golden age.

99. For more on Orpheus and his journey to Hades, see note 77. 100. e barbel is a common species of river carp. 101. Los siete libros de la Diana, bk. 2. 102. Ibid. 103. As is apparent om the original, this poem was composed in cuaderna vía, a stanza form composed of four monorhymed, fourteen-syllable verses known as alexandrines. 104. is stanza is a translated Arabic du’a, or supplication to God. 105. A reference to Muhammad, whose name in Arabic literally means “beloved.” ˙ 106. Halı¯ma bint Abu¯ Dhu’ayb al-Sa’diyyah was Muhammad’s wetnurse. ˙ ˙ 107. Muhammad would stay with Halı¯ma and her family until he was two years ˙ ˙ old, as it was believed that it was healthier for babies to be cared for in the desert. Muhammad’s childhood years were actually quite difficult. His father, ‘Abdullah, ˙ died roughly six months before he was born, and his mother, Amı¯na, would die when he was six years old. Aer this, he was raised for two years by his paternal grandfather, ‘Abd al-Mualib, who died when Muhammad was eight. Muhammad ˙˙ ˙ ˙ was then sent to live with his paternal uncle Abu¯ T¯alib. ˙ 108. A reference to a popular legend, contained in Abu¯ al-Hasn al-Bakrı¯’s ˙ Kita¯b al-anwar (ca. 1275 CE; Book of the lights), which recounts the journey of Muhammad and his companion Abu¯ Bakr to Medina. While on their way, the two ˙ men were told that some polytheists om Mecca were looking for them with the intention of harming them. Muhammad and Abu¯ Bakr took shelter in the Cave of ˙ awr. Once they were inside the cave, a spider spun a web across the entrance to hide them. When the men om Mecca arrived at the cave, they assumed that there was no one inside because the spider’s web had not been broken. is episode is generally understood to be one more example of the ways God protected His messenger om harm. 109. Some versions of the cave story include a dove that covers the small opening of the cave with its nest. 110. at is, Abu¯ Bakr. 111. In this stanza and the three that follow are found examples of legends revolving around Muhammad that come om al-Bakrı¯’s Kita¯b al-anwar (or, more ˙ directly, an Aljamiado translation of this work). 112. According to Islamic eschatology, Munkar and Nakir are two angels that visit the deceased in the grave and interrogate them regarding questions of faith. ose who answer correctly (in their hearts as well as in their words) will spend the time before the Day of Judgment waiting patiently, while those who do not answer well will spend their aerlife being punished until the Day of Judgment. 113. For more on the concept of saudade, or “nostalgic longing,” see note 39. 114. Compare this sonnet to Pêro de Andrade Caminha’s “Eu cantarei de amor tão novamente” (I would sing of love in so esh a way) and the two poems’ common source, Francesco Petrarch’s “Io canterei d’amor si novamente” (I would sing of love in so esh a way).

[ 390 ]

[ 391 ]

* Notes *

115. A reference to Venus, the goddess of erotic love according to Roman mythology. 116. For more on the concept of saudade, or “nostalgic longing,” see note 39. 117. is song is in essence a highly personalized, philosophical, and poetic meditation on Psalm 137, which reads: “By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion. ere on the poplars we hung our harps, for there our captors asked us for songs, our tormentors demanded songs of joy; they said, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land? If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy. Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell. ‘Tear it down,’ they cried, ‘tear it down to its foundations!’ Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who repays you according to what you have done to us. Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.” 118. A reference to 1 Corinthians 13:11: “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” 119. ese are the last two verses of Joan Boscà’s “Ponme en la vida más brava, importuna” ‘Place me in the most brutal, relentless life.’ 120. roughout this section, Camões plays with the Portuguese term pena, which means both “suffering” and “pen” (om Italian penna). See also Os Lusíadas 8.79: “Numa mão sempre a espada, e noutra a pena” (In one hand always the sword, and in the other the pen / suffering). We might compare Camões’s conceit to the more straightforward (though no less dramatic) image offered by Garcilaso de la Vega in Egloga III st. 5: “Entre las armas del sangriento Marte / do apenas hay quien su furor contraste, / hurté de tiempo aquesta breve suma, / tomando, ora la espada, ora la pluma” ‘Among the arms of bloodthirsty Mars / where scarcely anyone can contrast his wrath / I stole some moments to write this brief piece, / taking up now the sword, now the pen.’ 121. For more on the impact of Neoplatonic thought on Camões’s lyric, see Vítor Aguiar e Silva, “e Songs of Melancholy: Aspects of Mannerism in Camões, “ in A Revisionary History of Portuguese Literature, ed. Miguel Tamen and Helena C. Buescu (New York: Psychology Press, 1999), 30–57. 122. For more on the concept of natural love and Renaissance Neoplatonism more generally, see Marsilio Ficino, eologia platonica, trans. Michael J. B. Allen (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2005). 123. A reference to Cupid, who was blind according to Greco-Roman mythology. 124. In Greek mythology, Tartarus was a dungeon of torment located below the earth and sea. In this context, it can be read as “hellish.” 125. See note 59. 126. Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Viaje al Parnaso (Madrid: Lingkua Ediciones, 2009).

127. ere is a thinly veiled satirical tone to this stanza. For example, in the underworld slang of seventeenth-century Seville (which Cervantes uses to great effect in his short story “Rinconete y Cortadillo” (Rinconete and Cortadillo), ermita could also mean tavern. 128. Mary Magdalene, a reformed prostitute and one of the important women in the New Testament. Here as throughout this sonnet, Cervantes seems to be giving reason to doubt the sincerity of Campuzano’s conversion. 129. St. Hilary (ca. 300–ca. 368 CE) was a bishop of Poitiers and one of the early church fathers. His name in Spanish, Hilario, satirically suggests the Latin adjective hilarius (happy, cheerful, lighthearted) as well as the more caustic Spanish adjective hilarante (hilarious). 130. La Dragontea is an epic work by Félix Lope de Vega y Carpio (1562–1635), which tells the history of Sir Francis Drake’s last and unsuccessful expedition in the Caribbean. 131. e word that Cervantes uses for “fertile plain” (vega) is a direct reference to Lope de Vega. 132. For more on Apollo, see note 70. 133. e Helicon is the mythological Greek river in which the women who killed Orpheus (famous for his singing and musicianship) sought to wash the blood om their hands. Not wishing to abet their crime, the river sank underground. Situated near Mount Parnassus, it is generally associated with poetry. 134. For more on Jupiter, see note 97. 135. Cyllenus is an alternative name for Mercury. In Roman mythology, Mercury is the messenger of the gods. e name can also suggest Silenus, a mythological satyr and companion of Bacchus. 136. In Roman mythology, Minerva is the goddess of wisdom. 137. In Greek and Roman mythology, Mount Parnassus was considered to be the home of the Muses. 138. For more on Venus, see note 54. Here Cervantes is making a backhanded reference to Lope de Vega’s many amorous involvements. 139. For more on Daphne, see note 78. 140. Narcissus is the son of the river god Cephissus and the nymph Liriope. Tiresias, the seer, told his parents that the child would live to an old age if he did not look at himself. Many nymphs and girls fell in love with him, but he rejected them. One of these nymphs, Echo, was so distraught over this rejection that she withdrew into a lonely spot and faded until all that was le was a plaintive whisper. e goddess Nemesis heard the rejected girls’ prayers for vengeance and arranged for Narcissus to fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water and drown. 141. For more on Anaxarete, see note 65. 142. In Roman mythology, Lucine or Lucina was the goddess of light. 143. Judith is a biblical heroine who manages to gain the trust of the Assyrian general Holofernes, who has been threatening the Jewish city of Bethulia with his army. One night, aer Holofernes has fallen asleep in a drunken stupor, Judith

[ 392 ]

[ 393 ]

* Notes *

decapitates him and takes his head back to show her countrymen. e Assyrians, deprived of their leader, give up the siege. 144. e Siege of Saguntum (219–218 BCE) took place at the start of the Second Punic War between Rome and Carthage. Saguntum (now Sagunt, roughly thirty kilometers om Valencia) was a prosperous commercial city, and its fall to the Carthaginians allowed their leader, Hannibal (248?–183 BCE), to cross the Pyrenees. Saguntum’s Roman-era ruins remain preserved today. 145. Belisardo is the fictional hero of Marco Guazzo’s (ca. 1480–1556) epic romance Belisardo atello del conte Orlando (Belisardo, brother of Count Roland), published in 1525. Characters named Belardo also appears in several of Lope de Vega’s plays. e name may derive om Belisarius (ca. 500–565 CE), who was a general of the Byzantine Empire under the emperor Justinian. 146. Pompey the Great (106–48 BCE) was an important military and political leader of the late Roman Republic. 147. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz would later echo this line in her poem “Este, que ves, engaño colorido” ‘is colorful deceit that you see.’ 148. at is, dew. 149. A reference to the Greek myth of Ganymede, a handsome Phrygian prince who was abducted om Mount Ida by Zeus (the Greek king of the Olympian gods, who had taken the form of an eagle) and given the office of cupbearer to the gods. 150. In Greek mythology, Tantalus was a king in Asia Minor who sacrificed his son Pelops as an offering to the gods. As his punishment for this act, he was sent to the Underworld and made to stand in a pool of water beneath a uit tree with low branches. ese branches would rise up beyond his grasp whenever he reached for the uit, and the water around him would recede whenever he bent down to drink. 151. “Occidental” here refers to old age. 152. Here Góngora uses the name “Licio” to refer to himself. 153. In 146 BCE, Corinth and the Achaean League entered into open revolt against Rome. In response to this, the Roman commander Lucius Mummius leveled Corinth, killing the men and selling the women and children into slavery. For Góngora, it is a symbol of resistance against all odds, meant to contrast with the easy surrender of Lice to a man with money. 154. Escudos were gold coins first issued by Spain in 1535. 155. Tlemcen is an Algerian city that was subject to the Ooman Empire om 1554 to 1671. 156. In Roman mythology, Ceres was the goddess of agriculture and fertility. 157. Philip III of Spain (Philip II of Portugal), who reigned om 1598 to 1621 CE. 158. Born Camillo Borghese, Pope Paul V served as pontiff om 1605 to 1621 CE. 159. For more on La Goulee, see note 58. 160. e Bale of Lepanto (1571) was an important naval conflict in which the forces of the Holy League, made up of the Papal States, Spain, Naples, Sicily, Venice, Genoa, Tuscany, Savoy, Parma, Urbino, and the Knights of Malta, defeated the Ooman navy.

161. A possible reference to Charles Bauter (1580–1630), a French playright and author of the tragedies La rodomontade (e Rodomontade) and La mort de Roger (e death of Roger). 162. A reference to the architect who designed the latrine. 163. Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar (ca. 1043–99) was a Castilian military leader and conqueror of Valencia (1094). He was commonly referred to as El Cid (om the Maghrebi Arabic sı¯di, ‘lord’) and is the subject of the epic poem Cantar de mio Cid (Song of the Cid). 164. e “he” to whom this poem refers is Luis de Góngora and, by extension, the legion of Castilian poets who followed his style. is poem is in effect a direct assault on Góngora’s ornate and dense language, and Garcia i Torres refers most directly to Góngora’s sonnet “Cual parece al romper de la mañana” ‘Just as at the break of day.’ 165. In Roman mythology, the goddess of flowers. 166. According to Greek mythology, the racian king Tereus raped his sister-in-law Philomela and cut out her tongue so that she would never speak of the crime. Philomela wove leers into a tapestry revealing the crime, however, and sent the tapestry to Procne, her sister. Procne reacted to her sister’s message by killing Itys, the son she had with Tereus, and serving his flesh to her husband in a meal. When Tereus discovered what had occurred, he tried to kill Procne and Philomela, but the gods turned them into birds: Procne became a nightingale, Philomela a swallow. 167. In the Catalan there is a play on the woman’s name (Bárbara) and the adjective “barbarous.” See also, for example, Camões’s “Aquela cativa” ‘at slave.’ 168. A play on words, in the original Spanish, between bizco (cross-eyed) and vizconde (vice count). 169. A reference to the Latin poet Ovid (43 BCE–18 CE), whose full name was Publius Ovidius Naso. In Castilian, “naso” is a jocular term used to refer to a large nose (om Latin “nasus”). 170. An anti-Semitic joke. Quevedo here refers to the high priest of Judaea before whom Jesus is brought before being handed over to Pontius Pilate. 171. Blanca de Castilla (Blanche of Castile, 1188–252 CE) was the daughter of King Alfonso VIII of Castile and Eleanor of England. She became the wife and queen consort of King Louis VIII of France, serving twice as regent for her son King Louis IX of France. During the seventeenth century, blancas were Castilian coins of extremely lile value. e joke here is a pun on the name of a practically worthless coin (the Castilian blanca) and the name of a exceptionally important historical figure (Blanca de Castilla). 172. Probably a reference to King João IV of Portugal (1603–56), the duke of Bragança who rose to the throne when Portugal declared its independence om the Habsburg Dynasty in late 1640. 173. A biblical reference to Sarah, the wife of Abraham, who gave birth to Isaac when she was ninety years old.

[ 394 ]

[ 395 ]

* Notes *

174. Memento homo: Short for Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris (Remember, man, that you are dust and to dust you will return), a prayer uered by Roman Catholic priests on Ash Wednesday as they trace a cross on the foreheads of their parishioners. 175. Sylvano is a fictional name generally associated with pastoral literature; derived om the Latin silva (forest). 176. Marianna de Luna was a native of Coimbra and a close iend of Sóror Violante do Céu. Also a poet, in 1642 Luna published a collection of poems titled Ramalhete de flores á felicidade d’este reino de Portugal em sua milagrosa restauração por Sua Magestade D. João IV, de dome o décimo oitavo dos verdadeiros reis portuguezes (Bouquet of flowers for the happiness of this kingdom of Portugal in its miraculous restoration by His Majesty King João IV, by name the eighteenth of the true Portuguese kings). 177. A reference to Marianna de Luna, whose last name means “moon.” 178. “Garden of harmony”: a reference to Marianna de Luna’s poetic anthology Ramalhete de flores (Bouquet of flowers). 179. “is lyrical garden”: another reference to Marianna de Luna’s Ramalhete de flores (Bouquet of flowers). 180. In tarot, the hanged man (pictured hanging upside down by his foot) is commonly interpreted as a traitor. 181. Caramuru is the Tupi name given to the Portuguese explorer Diogo Álvares Correia (ca. 1475–1557), who shipwrecked near Bahia, Brazil, and lived for a time among the Tupinambá. e term can mean “moray eel” or “fire-bringer,” a reference to Álvares Correia’s harquebus. 182. Paiaiá means “ugly man” in Tupi. 183. Tatu means “armadillo” in Tupi. 184. Cobe pá is the spoken dialect of the Cobé tribe. 185. Carimá means “jumbled” in Tupi. 186. Caruru is a kind of shrimp hummus. 187. ais was a famous Athenian prostitute during the time of Alexander the Great. 188. Lucretia was a famous Roman figure who commied suicide aer being raped by Tarquin (Sextus Tarquinius), the son of the last king of Rome. 189. e fourth commandment orders one to observe the sabbath, while the eighth commandment orders one not to steal. Here Caviedes is satirically aacking the mixed-race sons of noble white fathers in colonial Lima; he argues that they make (too) much of their noble parentage and faithfully practice the main duties of the nobility: refusing to work while persistently stealing and cheating.

Selected Bibliography

general works and anthologies Aguiar e Silva, Vítor Manuel. Maneirismo e barroco na poesia lírica portuguesa. Coimbra, Portugal: Centro de Estudos Românicos, 1971. Alatorre, Antonio. “De Góngora, Lope y Quevedo.” Nueva Revista de Filología Hispánica 48, no. 2 (2000): 299–332. Alcina Rovira, Juan Francisco. Repertorio de la poesía latina del Renacimiento en España. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca, 1995. Alonso, Damaso. Poesía española: Ensayo de métodos y límites estilísticos; Garcilaso, Fray Luis de León, San Juan de la Cruz, Góngora, Lope de Vega, Quevedo. Madrid: Gredos, 2008. Andrés, Ramón. Tiempo y caída: Temas de la poesía barroca española. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, 1994. Blecua, José Manuel, ed. Poesía de la edad de oro. 2 vols. Madrid: Castalia, 1982–84. Cruz, Anne J. “Arms vs. Leers: e Poetics of War and the Career of the Poet in Early Modern Spain.” In Western Literary Careers: Classical, Medieval, Renaissance, edited by Frederick de Armas and Patrick Cheney, 186–205. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002. De Armas, Frederick A., ed. Ovid in the Age of Cervantes. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2010. Díez de Revenga, Francisco Javier. La poesía barroca. Madrid: Júcar, 1994. Earle, T. F. “Lyric Poetry in the Sixteenth Century.” In A Companion to Portuguese Literature, edited by Stephen Parkinson, Cláudia Pazos-Alonso, and T. F. Earle, 85–96. Woodbridge, UK: Tamesis, 2009. Egido, Aurora. Fronteras de la poesía en el barroco. Barcelona: Crítica, 1990. Esteve, Cesc. La invenció dels orígens: La història literària en la poètica del renaixement. Barcelona: Publicacions de l’Abadia de Montserrat, 2008. Ferreira, Nadiá Paulo. Poesia barroca. Rio de Janeiro: Ágora da Ilha, 2000. Ficino, Marsilio. eologia platonica. Translated by Michael J. B. Allen. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2005. Gonçalves Pires, Maria Lucília. Xadrez de palavras: Estudos de literatura barroca. Lisbon: Cosmos, 1996. [ 397 ]

Hempfer, Klaus W., Antoni L. Moll, and Josep Solervicens. La poètica barroca a Europa: Un nou sistema epistemològic i estètic. Lleida, Spain: Punctum & Mimesi, 2009. Manero Sorolla, María Pilar. Imágenes petrarquistas en la lírica española del Renacimiento: Repertorio. Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1990. López-Casanova, Arcadio, ed. Poesía de los Siglos de Oro. Madrid: Castalia, 1999. Navarro, Ana, ed. Antología poética de escritoras de los siglos XVI y XVII. Madrid: Castalia, 1989. Nunes, Helena Pires, and Maria das Dores Marques. À descoberta da poesia barroca: Guia prático de análise de textos. Mem Martins, Portugal: Sebenta, 2001. Palomo, María del Pilar, ed. La poesía en la edad de oro (barroco). Madrid: Taurus, 1987. Pécora, Alcir, ed. Poesia seiscentista: Fênix renascida e Postilhão de Apolo. São Paulo: Hedra, 2002. Peers, E. Allison. Spanish Golden Age Poetry and Drama. New York: AMS, 1976. Rivers, Elias L., ed. Poesía lírica del Siglo de Oro. Madrid: Cátedra, 2006. ———. Renaissance and Baroque Poetry of Spain, with English Prose Translations. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland, 1988. Romeu i Figueras, Josep. Assaigs de literatura valenciana del Renaixement. Alacant, Spain: Institut Interuniversitari de Filologia Valenciana, 1999. ———. “La lírica catalana des del segon quart del segle XIV a Ausiàs March.” L’època medieval a Catalunya: cicle de conferències fet a la Institució cultural del CIC de Terrassa, curs 1980–1981. Edited by Josep María Salrach Mares. Barcelona: Publicacions de L’Abadia de Montserrat. 1989. 153–72. ———. “Poesía catalana del segle XVI.” In Miscelanea filológica dedicada a Mons. A. Griera, 2:313–32. Barcelona: Instituto Internacional de Cultura Romanica, 1960. ———. Poesia en el context cultural del segle XVI al XVIII. Barcelona: Curial, 1991. Romojaro Montero, Rosa. Funciones del mito clásico en el siglo de oro: Garcilaso, Góngora, Lope de Vega, Quevedo. Barcelona: Anthropos, 1998. Santilli, Maria Aparecida. Apresentação da poesia barroca portuguesa. Assis, Brazil: Instituto de Estudos Portugueses da Universidade de São Paulo, 1967. Tamen, Miguel, and Helena C. Buescu, eds. A Revisionary History of Portuguese Literature. New York: Psychology Press, 1999. Terry, Arthur, ed. ree Fieenth-Century Valencian Poets. London: Department of Hispanic Studies, Queen Mary and Westfield College, 2000. Triadú, Joan, ed. Anthology of Catalan Lyric Poetry. Oxford, UK: Dolphin, 1953.

aljamiado literature Barlea, Vincent. Covert Gestures: Crypto-Islamic Literature as Cultural Practice in Early Modern Spain. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2005. Fuente Cornejo, Toribio. Poesía religiosa aljamiado-morisca: Poemas en alabanza a Allah, Muhammad y de la religión islámica. Oviedo, Spain: Universidad de Oviedo, 1985. Harvey, L. P. Muslims in Spain, 1500 to 1614. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005. [ 398 ]

individual poets Francisco de Aldana Aldana, Francisco de. Epistolario poético completo. Edited by Antonio R. Rodríguez Moñino. Badajoz: Diputación Provincial de Badajoz, Institución de Servicio Culturales, 1946. ———. Poesías castellanas completas. Edited by José Lara Garrido. Madrid: Cátedra, 1997. Bautista Rodríguez, José Juan, and Juan Manuel Pérez Vigaray. “Erotismo y neoplatonismo en los sonetos amorosos de Francisco de Aldana.” In La palabra y el deseo: estudios de literatura erótica, edited by Germán Santana Henríquez, 93–106. Palmas de Gran Canaria, Spain: Universidad de las Palmas de Gran Canaria, 2002. Neira, Julio. Francisco de Aldana. Mérida, Spain: Editora Regional de Extremadura, 1990. Ruiz Silva, Carlos. Estudios sobre Francisco de Aldana. Valladolid, Spain: Universidad de Valladolid, 1981. Walters, D. Gareth. e Poetry of Francisco de Aldana. London: Tamesis, 1988.

Joan Boscà (see also Garcilaso de la Vega) Armisén, Antonio. Estudios sobre la lengua poética de Boscán: La edición de 1543. Zaragoza, Spain: Universidad de Zaragoza, 1982. Boscán, Joan. Obras completas. Edited by Carlos Clavería Laguarda. Madrid: Cátedra, 1999. ———. Las obras de Juan Boscán: De nuevo puestas al día y repartidas en tres libros. Edited by Carlos Clavería. Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1991. ———. Obras poéticas de Juan Boscán. Edited by Martín de Riquer, Antonio Comas, and Joaquín Molas. Barcelona: Universidad de Barcelona, 1957. Castro, Aníbal Pinto de. “Boscán e Garcilaso no lírismo português do Renascimento e do Maneirismo.” Península 1 (2004): 65–96. Morros Mestres, Bienvenido. “Vida y poesía de Boscán y Garcilaso: A propósito del gran duque de Alba.” Boletín de la Biblioteca de Menéndez Pelayo 84 (2008): 15–58. Reyes Cano, José María, ed. Los grandes líricos del Renacimiento español: Poesía completa [ 399 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

López-Baralt, Luce. La literatura secreta de los últimos musulmanes de España. Madrid: Editorial Troa, 2009. Manzanares de Cirre, Manuela. “Textos aljamiados: Poesía religiosa morisca.” Bulletin Hispanique 72 (1970): 311–27. Vázquez, Miguel Angel. “Poesía morisca (o de cómo el español se convirtió en lengua literaria del Islam).” Hispanic Review 75, no. 3 (2007): 219–42. Wiegers, Gerard Albert. “Isa b. Gabir and the Origins of Aljamiado Literature.” Al-Qantara 11 (1990): 155–91.

de Juan Boscán, Garcilaso de la Vega, Fray Luis de León, San Juan de la Cruz y Fernando de Herrera. Madrid: Cátedra, 2010.

Pêro de Andrade Caminha Anastácio, Vanda. Visões de glória: Uma introdução à poesia de Pêro de Andrade Caminha. Vol. 2. Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, 1998. Caminha, Pêro de Andrade. Poesias inéditas. Edited by J. Priebsch. Halle: Max Niemeyer, 1898. Cirurgião, António A. “A celebração dos mortos em Andrade Caminha.” Arquivos do Centro Cultural Português 32 (1993): 489–508. Mourão-Ferreira, David. “Pero de Andrade de Caminha e António Ferreira.” Colóquio / Letras 168–69 (2004): 69–75.

Luís Vaz de Camões Aguiar e Silva, Vítor. Camões: Laberintos e fascínios. Lisbon: Cotovia, 1994. Amado, María Dolores. “Recreación de un tema clásico en dos poetas del siglo XVI: Garcilaso de la Vega y Luís de Camões.” Límite 1 (2007): 175–85. Camões, Luís Vaz de. e Collected Lyric Poems of Luís de Camões. Translated by Landeg White. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008. ———. Églogas. Edited by Alvaro Júlio da Costa Pimpão. Coimbra, Portugal: Universidade de Coimbra, 1973. ———. Lírica completa. Edited by Maria de Lurdes Saraiva. 3 vols. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional–Casa da Moeda, 1980–81. ———. Os melhores poemas de Luís de Camões. Edited by Leodegário A. de Azevedo Filho. São Paulo: Global Editora, 1984. ———. Obra completa. Edited by António Salgado Júnior. Rio de Janeiro: Aguilar, 1963. ———. Obras completas. Edited by Hernani Cidade. Lisbon: Livraria Sá da Costa, 1954–56. ———. Rimas. Edited by Alvaro Júlio da Costa Pimpão. Coimbra, Portugal: Atlantida, 1973. ———. Selected Sonnets. Translated by William Baer. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005. ———. Sonetos de Camões: Corpus dos sonetos camonianos. Edited by Cleonice Serõa da Moa Berardinelli. Paris: Jean Touzot Libraire-Editeur, 1980. ———. Sonnets and Other Poems. Translated by Richard Zenith. Dartmouth, MA: University of Massachuses Dartmouth Center for Portuguese Studies and Culture, 2009. Cidade, Hernani. Luís de Camões: O lírico. [1936] Lisbon: Presença, 2003. ———. Luís de Camões: A obra e o homem. Lisbon: Arcádia, 1964. Langrouva, Helena C. “Camões, Santa Teresa de Ávila e São João da Cruz.” Arquivos do Centro Cultural Calouste Gulbenkian 37 (1998): 229–41. [ 400 ]

Cristóbal de Castillejo Castillejo, Cristóbal de. Antología poética. Edited by Rogelio Reyes Cano. Madrid: Cátedra, 2004. ———. Obra completa. Edited by Rogelio Reyes Cano. Madrid: Fundación José Antonio de Castro, 1998. ———. Obras. Edited by Jesús Domínguez Bordona. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1957–60. Gorga López, Gemma. Cristóbal de Castillejo y el diálogo con la tradición. Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona, 1999. Martínez Navarro, María del Rosario. “El antipetrarquismo en España: el caso de Cristóbal de Castillejo.” Esfera 2 (2009): 90–112. ———. “De amor y otros males en la obra de Cristóbal de Castillejo.” In Medicina y Literatura VI, edited by Esteban Torre, 243–51. Sevilla, Spain: Ediciones Padilla. 2007. Nicolay, Clara Leonore. e Life and Works of Cristóbal de Castillejo, the Last of the Nationalists in Castilian Poetry. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 1910.

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra Altolaguirre, Manuel. “La poesía de Miguel de Cervantes.” Anthropos 16 (1989): 22–24. Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de. Obras completas. Edited by Florencio Sevilla Arroyo. Madrid: Castalia, 1999. ———. Poesías completas. Edited by Vicente Gaos. Madrid: Castalia, 1974. ———. Viaje al Parnaso. Edited by Florencio Sevilla Arroyo and Antonio Rey Hazas. Madrid: Alianza, 1997. Diego, Gerardo. “Cervantes y la poesía.” Anthropos 16 (1989): 88–97. Fernández de la Torre, José Luis. “La desordenada recepción de la poesía cervantina: Notas para su análisis.” Voz y Letra 18, no. 1 (2007): 27–47. Martín, Adrienne Laskier. Cervantes and the Burlesque Sonnet. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991.

António Ferreira Castilho, Júlio de, ed. António Ferreira: Poeta quinhentista. Rio de Janeiro: Garnier, 1875. Earle, T. F. “A ode na poesia de António Ferreira.” In Actas do primeiro congresso internacional de lusitanistas, 237–45. Poitiers, France: Associação Internacional de Lusitanistas, 1988. ———. “O estoicismo e o culto das Musas na poesia de António Ferreira.” In Actas [ 401 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Leite, Ana Mafalda, ed. Post-imperial Camões. Dartmouth, MA: University of Massachuses Dartmouth Center for Portuguese Studies and Culture, 2003. Osório, Jorge A. “Luís de Camões e Ausias March.” Península 0 (2003): 171–84.

do quarto congresso da associação internacional de lusitanistas, edited by Maria Fátima Viegas Brauer-Figueiredo, 435–40. Lisbon: Lidel, 1995. ———. “Uma leitura de duas cartas de António Ferreira.” Cultura-História e Filosofia 5 (1986): 73–84. ———. e Muse Reborn: e Poetry of António Ferreira. Oxford, UK: Clarendon, 1988. ———. “Not the Enemy Without but Stoic Virtue Within: António Ferreira and Islam.” Portuguese Studies 12 (1996): 12–24. Ferreira, António. Poemas lusitanos. 2nd ed. Edited by T. F. Earle. Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, 2008.

Francesc Fontanella Biel Sansano, Pep Valsalobre. Francesc Fontanella: Una obra, una vida, un temps. Bellcaire d’Empordà, Spain: Edicions Vitella, 2006. Fontanella, Francesc. Antologia poètica. Edited by Maria-Mercè Miró. Barcelona: Curial, 1998. ———. El desengany. Edited by Albert Rossich. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, 1987. ———. Panegíric a la mort de Pau Claris. Edited by Montserrat Clarasó. Barcelona: Curial and Fundació Pere Coromines, 2008. ———. La poesía de Francesc Fontanella. Edited by Maria-Mercè Miró. Barcelona: Curial, 1995. Miró, Maria-Mercè. “L’amor i la sàtira en la poesia de Francesc Fontanella.” In La cultura catalana tra l’Umanesimo e il Barocco, edited by Carlos Romero and Rossend Arqués, 321–28. Padua, Italy: Programma, 1994. ———. “El poeta Francesc Fontanella de la revolta catalana al congrés de Münster (1640–1643).” Révue d’Etudes Catalanes 4 (2001): 29–41. Pòrtulas, Jaume. “Eros i Príap en Lo Desengany de Francesc Fontanella.” In Mites clàssics en la literatura catalana moderna i contemporània, edited by Jordi Malé and Eulàlia Miralles, 9–26. Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona, 2007.

Francesc Vicenç Garcia i Torres (el Rector de Vallfogona) Corbella, Domènec. El Rector de Vallfogona i l’humor clerical català. Sant Vicenç de Castellet, Spain: Farell, 2008. Garcia i Torres, Francesc Vicenç, Rector de Vallfogona. Antologia poètica. Edited by Albert Rossich. Santa Creus, Spain: Fundació d’Història i Art Roger de Belfort, 1985. ———. La armonia del Parnàs. Edited by Albert Rossich. Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona / Valencia: Universitat de València, 2000. ———. Sonets. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1979. Rossich, Albert. Francesc Vicenç Garcia: Història i mite del rector de Vallfogona. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1987. Vallverdú, Josep. El rector de Vallfogona i la llengua del barroc. Lleida, Spain: Institut d’Estudis Ilerdencs, 1982. [ 402 ]

Cruz, Anne J. Imitación y transformación: El petrarquismo en la poesía de Boscán y Garcilaso de la Vega. Amsterdam: J. Benjamins, 1988. Gallego Morell, Antonio. Garcilaso de la Vega y sus comentaristas: Obras completas del poeta; acompañadas de los textos íntegros de los comentarios de El Brocense, Fernando de Herrera, Tamayo de Vargas y Azara. Madrid: Gredos, 1972. Garcilaso de la Vega. e Complete Love Sonnets of Garcilaso de la Vega. Edited and translated by Charles Guenther. Arnold, MO: Cornerstone, 2005. ———. Garcilaso: Documentos completos de Garcilaso de la Vega. Edited by Antonio Gallego Morell. Barcelona: Planeta, 1976. ———. Obra poética y textos en prosa. Edited by Bienvenido Morros. Barcelona: Crítica, 1995. ———. Poesía castellana completa. Edited by Consuelo Burell. Madrid: Cátedra, 1976. ———. Poesías castellanas completas. Edited by Antonio Prieto. Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva, 1999. ———. Poesías completas. Edited by Germán Bleiberg. Madrid: Alianza, 1980. ———. Poesías completas. Edited by Bernardo Gicovate. Salamanca: Almar, 1978. ———. Poesías completas. Edited by Ángel L. Prieto de Paula. Madrid: Castalia, 1989. ———. Poesías castellanas completas. Edited by Elias L. Rivers. Madrid: Castalia, 1996. ———. Selected poems of Garcilaso de la Vega: A Bilingual Edition. Translated by John Dent-Young. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009. Heiple, Daniel L. Garcilaso de la Vega and the Italian Renaissance. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994. Helgerson, Richard. A Sonnet om Carthage: Garcilaso de la Vega and the New Poetry of Sixteenth-Century Europe. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007. Lázaro Carreter, Fernando. “La Ode ad florem Gnidi de Garcilaso de la Vega.” In Garcilaso: Actas de la IV Academia Literaria Renacentista, Universidad de Salamanca, 2–4 de marzo de 1983, edited by Víctor García de la Concha, 109–26. Salamanca, Spain: Universidad de Salamanca, 1993. López Bueno, Begoña. Las “Anotaciones” de Fernando de Herrera: Doce estudios. Seville, Spain: Universidad, 1997. Lorenzo, Javier. “Aer Tunis: Petrarchism and Empire in the Poetry of Garcilaso de la Vega.” Hispanófila 141 (2004): 17–30. Montero, Juan. La controversia sobre las “Anotaciones” herrerianas. Seville, Spain: Ayuntamiento, 1987. ———, ed. Obras de Garcilaso de la Vega: Con anotaciones de Fernando de Herrera (Sevilla, Alonso de la Barrera, 1580). Córdoba, Spain: Universidad de Córdoba, 1998. Morros Mestres, Bienvenido. Las polémicas literarias en la España del siglo XVI: A propósito de Fernando de Herrera y Garcilaso. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, 1998. Rivers, Elias L. Garcilaso de la Vega, Poems: A Critical Guide. London: Grant and Cutler, 1980. [ 403 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Garcilaso de la Vega (see also Joan Boscà and Fernando de Herrera)

Roig, Adrien. “Correlaciones entre Sá de Miranda y Garcilaso de la Vega.” In Studia aurea: Actas del III Congreso de la AISO (Toulouse, 1993), edited by Ignacio Arellano Ayuso, Carmen Pinillos, Marc Vitse, and Frédéric Serralta, 1:475–86. Pamplona, Spain: Grupo de Investigación Siglo de Oro Universidad de Navarra, 1996. Sliwa, Krzysztof, ed. Cartas, documentos y escrituras de Garcilaso de la Vega y de sus familiares. Alcalá de Henares, Spain: Centro de Estudios Cervantinos, 2006. Vaquero Serrano, María del Carmen. Garcilaso: Apuntes para una nueva biografía; Los Ribadeneira y Lorenzo Suárez de Figueroa. Ciudad Real, Spain: Oretania, 1999.

Luis de Góngora Beverley, John. Aspects of Góngora’s “Soledades.” Amsterdam: J. Benjamins, 1980. Chemris, Crystal Anne. Góngora’s Soledades and the Problem of Modernity. Woodbridge, UK: Tamesis, 2008. Góngora, Luis de. Góngora’s Shorter Poetic Masterpieces in Translation. Translated by Diane Chaffee-Sorace. Tempe: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2010. ———. Luis de Góngora: Selected Shorter Poems. Translated by Michael Smith. London: Anvil, 1995. ———. Obras completas. Edited by Antonio Carreira. Madrid: Fundación José Antonio de Castro, 2000. ———. Poesías. Edited by Victoriano Roncero López. Madrid: Castalia, 1992. ———. Selected Poems of Luis de Góngora: A Bilingual Edition. Translated by John DentYoung. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007. ———. Sonetos completos. Edited by Biruté Ciplijauskaité. Madrid: Castalia, 1969. ———. Los sonetos de Góngora. Edited by Emilio Orozco Díaz. Córdoba, Spain: Diputación de Córdoba, 2002. Jammes, Robert. La obra poética de don Luis de Góngora y Argote. Madrid: Castalia, 1987. Kluge, Sofie. “Góngora’s Heresy: Literary eory and Criticism in the Golden Age.” MLN 122, no. 2 (2007): 251–71. Orozco Díaz, Emilio. Introducción a Góngora. Barcelona: Crítica, 1984. Ponce Cárdenas, Jesús. Góngora y la poesía culta del siglo XVII. Madrid: Laberinto, 2001. Terukina-Yamauchi, Jorge. “Parodia, autoparodia y deconstrucción de la arquitectura efímera en dos sonetos de Luis de Góngora.” Bulletin of Spanish Studies 86, no. 6 (2009): 719–45.

Fernando de Herrera (see also Garcilaso de la Vega) Fernández Rodríguez, María Amelia. El análisis del estilo de la poesía de Garcilaso en las “Anotaciones” de Fernando de Herrera: La idea interior artística. Madrid: Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1997.

[ 404 ]

San Juan de la Cruz (see also Santa Teresa de Ávila) Gaylord, Mary Malcolm, and Francisco Márquez Villanueva, eds. San Juan de la Cruz and Fray Luis de León: A Commemorative International Symposium, November 14–16, 1991, Hilles Library at Harvard University. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 1996. Juan de la Cruz, San. Obra completa. 2 vols. Edited by Luce López-Baralt and Eulogio Pacho. Madrid: Alianza, 2003. ———. Obra poética completa. Edited by Miguel de Santiago. Barcelona: Libros Río Nuevo, 1982. ———. Obras completas. Edited by José Vicente Rodríguez and Federico Ruiz Salvador. Madrid: Editorial de Espiritualidad, 1980. ———. Poems. Translated by Margaret Wilson. London: Grant and Cutler, 1975. ———. e Poems of John of the Cross. Translated by John Fredrick Nims. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979. ———. Poesía completa. Edited by José Jiménez Lozano. Madrid: Taurus, 1982. López Baralt, Luce. “La amada nocturna de San Juan de la Cruz se pudo haber llamado Laylà.” Quaderns de la Mediterrània 12 (2009): 201–11. Rhodes, Elizabeth. “Gender in the Night: Juan de la Cruz and Cecilia del Nacimiento.” In Studies on Women’s Poetry of the Golden Age: Tras el espejo la musa escribe, edited by Julián Olivares, 202–17. Woodbridge, UK: Tamesis, 2009. omson, Colin P. e Poet and the Mystic: A Study of the “Cántico Espiritual” of San Juan de la Cruz. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1977. Weber, Alison, ed. Approaches to Teaching Teresa of Avila and the Spanish Mystics. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 2009.

[ 405 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Gallego Morell, Antonio. El renacimiento español: Garcilaso y Herrera. Granada, Spain: Universidad de Granada, 2003. Herrera, Fernando de. Poesía. Edited by María Teresa Ruestes. Barcelona: Planeta, 1986. ———. Poesía castellana original completa. Edited by Cristóbal Cuevas. Madrid: Cátedra, 1985. ———. Poesías. Edited by Victoriano Roncero López. Madrid: Castalia, 1992. López Bueno, Begoña, ed. Las “Anotaciones” de Fernando de Herrera: Doce estudios. Seville, Spain: Universidad de Sevilla, 1997. Middlebrook, Leah. “e Poetics of Modern Masculinity in Sixteenth-Century Spain.” In e Poetics of Masculinity in Early Modern Italy and Spain, edited by Gerry Milligan and Jane Tylus, 143–67. Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 2010. Morros, Bienvenido. “Idea de la lírica en las Anotaciones de Garcilaso de Fernando de Herrera.” In Idea de la lírica en el Renacimiento (entre Italia y España), edited by María José Vega and Cesc Esteve, 211–29. Pontevedra, Spain: Mirabel, 2004. ———. “Temas y tipos de sonetos en algunas obras de Fernando de Herrera.” Insula 610 (1997): 9–14.

———. “Could Women Write Mystical Poetry? e Literary Daughters of Juan de la Cruz.” In Studies on Women’s Poetry of the Golden Age: Tras el espejo la musa escribe, edited by Julián Olivares, 185–201. Woodbridge, UK: Tamesis, 2009.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz Buxó, José Pascual. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz: Lectura barroca de la poesía. Seville: Junta de Andalucía and Consejería de Cultura, 2006. Juana Inés de la Cruz, Sor. Antología poética. Madrid: Alianza, 2004. ———. Obras completas. Edited by Alfonso Méndez Plancarte. Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1994. ———. Obras selectas. Edited by Georgina Sabàt de Rivers and Elías L. Rivers. Barcelona: Noguer, 1976. ———. Poesía lírica. Edited by José Carlos González Boixo. Madrid: Cátedra, 1992. ———. e Sonnets of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz in English Verse. Translated by Carl W. Cobb. Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 2001. ———. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz: Poems. Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden. Binghamton, NY: Bilingual Press / Editorial Bilingüe, 1984. ———. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz: Selected Writings. Edited and translated by Pamela Kirk Rappaport. Mahway, NJ: Paulist, 2005. Marín, Paola. Teología y conciencia criolla: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. Madrid: Ediciones del Orto, 2006. Paz, Octavio. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, o Las trampas de la fé. Barcelona: Seix Barral, 1982. Ruiz González, Rafael, and Janice eodoro da Silva. “La carta atenagórica: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz y los caminos de una reflexión teológica.” Estudios de Historia Novohispana 29 (2003): 77–95. Scavino, Dardo. “La teología política de Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.” Revista Iberoamericana 76 (2010): 957–71.

Lope Félix de Vega Carpio Hidalgo, José Manuel. “La doctrina agustiniana de doce sonetos de las Rimas sacras de Lope de Vega.” Calíope 15, no. 1 (2009): 39–62. Mourão-Ferreira, David. “A poesia lírica de Lope de Vega.” Colóquio / Letras 168–69 (2004): 143–49. Pedraza Jiménez, Felipe B. El universo poético de Lope de Vega. Madrid: Laberinto, 2003. Samson, Alexander, and Jonathan acker, eds. A Companion to Lope de Vega. Woodbridge, UK: Tamesis, 2008. Vega Carpio, Lope Félix de. Obras poéticas. Edited by José Manuel Blecua. Barcelona: Planeta, 1989. ———. Poesía selecta. Edited by Antonio Carreño. Madrid: Cátedra, 1984. ———. Rimas humanas y divinas del licenciado Tomé de Burguillos. Edited by Macarena Cuiñas Gómez. Madrid: Cátedra, 2008. [ 406 ]

Alarcos Llorach, Emilio, and Emilio Martínez Mata. El uto cierto: Estudios sobre las odas de Fray Luis de León. Madrid: Cátedra, 2006. Baena, Julio. El poemario de Fray Luis de León. New York: Peter Lang, 1989. Barrientos García, José. Fray Luis de León y la Universidad de Salamanca. San Lorenzo del Escorial, Spain: Escurialenses, 1996. Cañadas, Ivan. “e Nation in History: Decline, Circularity and Desengaño in the Poetry of Fray Luis de León and Francisco de Quevedo.” Ianua 8 (2008): 203–23. Fernández-Cormenzana, José. Fray Luis de León, un intelectual en el banquillo. Barcelona: Planeta, 1992. Garrote Bernal, Gaspar. Claves de la obra poética de Fray Luis de León. Madrid: Ciclo, 1990. Hildner, David J. Poetry and Truth in the Spanish Works of Fray Luis de León. London: Tamesis, 1992. Luis de León, Fray. El Cantar de los Cantares de Salomón: Interpretaciones literal y espiritual. Edited by José María Becerra Hiraldo. Madrid: Cátedra, 2003. ———. Obra poética completa. Edited by Miguel de Santiago. Barcelona: Libros Río Nuevo, 1981. ———. Poesía. Edited by Antonio Ramajo Caño. Barcelona: Galaxia Gutenberg, 2006. ———. Poesía completa. Edited by Guillermo Serés. Madrid: Taurus, 1990. ———. Poesías. Edited by Francisco Garrote Pérez. Salamanca, Spain: Almar, 1978. ———. Poesías completas. Edited by Cristóbal Cuevas. Madrid: Castalia, 2001. Pérez, Joseph. El humanismo de Fray Luis de León. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1994. Rivers, Elias L., ed. and trans. Fray Luis de León: e Original Poems. London: Grant and Cutler, 1983. ompson, Colin P. e Strife of Tongues: Fray Luis de León and the Golden Age of Spain. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1988.

Ausiàs March Ahuir i López, Artur. Iniciació a Ausiàs March. Valencia, Spain: Ajuntament de Valencia, 1994. Alemany Ferrer, Rafael, ed. Ausiàs March i el món cultural del segle XV. Alacant, Spain: Universitat d’Alacant, 1999. Archer, Robert. “Against Consolation: Ausiàs March’s Sixth Death-Song.” Mediaevalia 22 (2000): 145–55. ———. Aproximació a Ausiàs March: Estructura, tradició, metáfora. Barcelona: Empuries, 1996. ———, ed. Ausiàs March: A Key Anthology. London: Anglo Catalan Society, 1992. ———. “Ausiàs March en sus manuscritos.” In Actas del X Congreso de la Asociación [ 407 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Fray Luis de León

Internacional de Hispanistas, Barcelona, 21–26 de agosto de 1989, edited by Antonio Vilanova, 103–10. Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1992. ———. e Pervasive Image: e Role of Analogy in the Poetry of Ausiàs March. Amsterdam: J. Benjamins, 1985. Cabré, Lluís. “Algunes imitacions i traduccions d’Ausiàs March al segle XVI.” Quaderns 7 (2002): 59–82. ———. “From Ausiàs March to Petrarch: Torroella, Urrea and other Ausimarchides.” In e Medieval Mind: Hispanic Studies in Honour of Alan Deyermond. Edited by Ian Macpherson and Ralph J. Penny, 57–73. Woodbridge, UK: Tamesis, 1997. Chiner, Jaime J. Ausiàs March i la Valencia del segle XV (1400–1459). Valencia, Spain: Consell Valencià de Cultura, 1997. Di Girolamo, Costanzo. “Ausiàs March e le donne.” Belfagor 53, no. 3 (1998): 297–307. Fàbrega i Escatllar, Valentí. Veles e vents: El conflicte eròtic en la poesia d’Ausiàs March. Lleida, Spain: Pagès, 1998. Ferraté, Joan. Llegir Ausiàs March. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, 1992. Lledó-Guillem, Vicente. “El rechazo del Neoplatonismo en Ausiàs March.” Neophilologus 88, no. 4 (2004): 545–57. March, Ausiàs. Ausias March. Translated by Jorge de Montemayor. Edited by Manuel de Montoliu. Barcelona: Editorial Cervantes, 1921. ———. Edició facsimil del testament, codicil i inventari d’Ausias March. Edited by Voro López. Valencia, Spain: L’Oronella, 1997. ———. Les obres d’Auzias March. Edited by Amadeu Pagès. Barcelona: Institut d’estudis catalans, 1912–14. ———. Obra completa. Edited by Robert Archer. Barcelona: Barcanova, 1997. ———. Obra poética completa. Edited by Rafael Ferreres. Madrid: Castalia, 1979. ———. Poesía. Edited by Joan Ferraté. Barcelona: Édics, 1979. ———. Poesies. Edited by Pere Bohigas. Barcelona: Barcino, 1952. ———. Les poesies d’Ausiàs March. Edited by Joan Ferraté. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, 1994. ———. Selected Poems. Edited and translated by Arthur Terry. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1976. ———. Verse Translations of irty Poems. Translated by Robert Archer. Barcelona: Barcino, 2006. McNerney, Kathleen. e Influence of Ausiàs March on Early Golden Age Castilian Poetry. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1982. Mourão-Ferreira, David. “O ‘outono da Idade Media’ I: Uma família de poetas catalães; Jaume March, Pere March, Ausiàs March.” Colóquio / Letras 166–67 (2004): 417–22. Osório, Jorge A. “Luís de Camões e Ausias March.” Península 0 (2003): 171–84. Pagès, Amadée. Auzias March et ses prédécesseurs: Essai sur la poésie amoureuse et philosophique en Catalogne aux XIVe et XVe siècles. Paris: Honoré Champion, 1911. ———. Ausiàs March i els seus predecessors. Valencia, Spain: Alfons el Magnànim, 1990. ———. Commentaire des poésies d’Auzias March. Paris: Honoré Champion, 1925. [ 408 ]

Gregório de Matos Campi de Castro, Nancy. “L’art poétique de Gregório de Matos et le baroque au Brésil du XVIIème siècle.” In Esthétique baroque et imagination créatrice, edited by Marlies Kronegger and Jean-Claude Vuillemin, 153–61. Tübingen, Germany: Gunter Narr Verlag, 1998. Campos, Haroldo de. O sequestro do barroco na formação da literatura brasileira: O caso Gregório de Maos. Salvador da Bahia, Brazil: Fundação Casa de Jorge Amado, 1989. Candido, Antonio. Formação da literatura brasileira 1: 1750–1836. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, 1964. Costigan, Lúcia Helena. “Historiografia, discurso e contra-discurso na colônia: Gregório de Matos e Juan del Valle y Caviedes.” Hispania 75, no. 3 (1992): 508–15. Freitas, Maria Eurides Pitombeira de. O grotesco na criação de Machado de Assis, Gregório de Matos. Rio de Janeiro: Presença, 1981. Hansen, João Adolfo. “A sátira de Gregório de Matos e a dramatização de ‘Corpo Místico’ do Império Português-Bahia (1682–1694).” In Barrocos y modernos: Nuevos caminos en la investigación del barroco iberoamericano, edited by Petra Schumm, 109–25. Frankfurt, Germany: Vervuert / Madrid: Iberoamericana, 1998. ———. A sátira e o engenho: Gregório de Matos e a Bahia do século XVII. São Paulo: Secretaria de Estado da Cultura and Companhia das Letras, 1989. Matos, Gregório de. Gregório de Matos: Sátira. Edited by Angela Maria Dias. Rio de Janeiro: Agir, 1990. ———. Lírica de Gregório de Matos. Edited by Célia A. N. Passoni. São Paulo: Núcleo, 1993. ———. Poemas escolhidos de Gregorio de Matos. Edited by José Miguel Wisnik. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2010. Mourão-Ferreira, David. “Dois satíricos portugueses: Dom Tomaz de Noronha e Gregório de Matos.” Colóquio / Letras 168–169 (2004): 259–66. Silva, Maurício. “Gregório de Matos: Paródia como transcontextualização.” LusoBrazilian Review 33, no. 1 (1996): 121–30.

Jorge de Montemayor (Jorge de Montemor) Creel, Bryant L. e Religious Poetry of Jorge de Montemayor. London: Tamesis, 1981. Esteva de Llobet, María Dolores. “Los cancioneros de Jorge de Montemayor: El [ 409 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Piera, Josep. Jo sóc aquest que em dic Ausiàs March. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 2001. Terry, Arthur H. ree Fieenth-Century Valencian Poets. London: Department of Hispanic studies, Queen Mary and Westfield College, 2000. Walters, D. Gareth. “e Reader Misled and Empowered: Expectation, Ambiguity and Deception in ree Poems of Ausiàs March.” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 74, no. 1 (1997): 41–60.

Cancionero del poeta (1554) y el Segundo cancionero espiritual (1558).” In Memoria de la palabra: Actas del VI congreso de la Asociación Internacional Siglo de Oro, edited by María Luisa Lobato and Francisco Domínguez Matito. 1:761–74. Madrid: Iberoamericana / Frankfurt, Germany: Vervuert, 2004. ———. La obra de Jorge de Montemayor: Estudio y edición del “Diálogo espiritual” y de sus “Cancioneros.” Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona, 1988. González, Santiago, and Santiago G. Fernández-Corugedo. “Ediciones de la poesía profana de Jorge Montemayor.” Archivum 36 (1986): 413–20. Grilli, Giuseppe. “El legado hispánico de la poesía de March: Ecos del cant XCIX en Garcilaso y Montemayor.” In Actas del XIV congreso de la Asociación Internacional de Hispanistas, vol. 2, Literatura española, siglos XVI y XVII, edited by Isaías Lerner, Robert Nival, and Alejandro Alonso, 269–80. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2004. Montemayor, Jorge de. Poesía completa. Edited by Juan Bautista Avalle-Arce and Emilio Blanco. Madrid: Biblioteca Castro, 1996. ———. Poesía completa: Cancionero [1554]; Cancionero [1562]; Segundo cancionero [1558]; Traducción de los Cantos de Amor de Ausias March. Madrid: Turner, 1996. ———. Los siete libros de la Diana. Edited by Asunción Rallo Gruss. Madrid: Cátedra, 1991.

Tomás de Noronha Cunha, Mafalda Ferrin. “Les excès de D. Tomás de Noronha.” In Débordements: Études sur l’excès, edited by Jacqueline Penjon, 13–30. Paris: Sorbonne Nouvelle, 2006. Marnoto, Rita. “Dois sonetos de D. Tomás de Noronha no Cancionero Manuel de Faria.” Biblos 71 (1995): 117–28. Noronha, Tomás de. Novas poesias inéditas de D. Tomás de Noronha. Edited by Paula L. Alves. Braga, Portugal: Edições APPACDM Distrital de Braga, 1997. ———. Poesias inéditas de D. omás de Noronha: Poeta satyrico do sec. XVII. Edited by J. Mendes dos Remédios. Coimbra, Portugal: França Amado, 1899. Pereira, Luís da Silva. “Em defensa de D. Tomás de Noronha.” Revista Portuguesa de Humanidades 6, no. 1–2 (2002): 241–51.

Francisco de Quevedo Arellano, Ignacio. “Quevedo en Italia, Italia en Quevedo.” In “Recuerde el alma dormida”: Medieval and Early Modern Spanish Essays in Honor of Frank A. Domínguez, edited by John K. Moore Jr. and Adriano Duque, 21–37. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta; 2009. Cacho Casal, Rodrigo. “e Memory of Ruins: Quevedo’s Silva to ‘Roma antigua y moderna.’ ” Renaissance Quarterly 62, no. 4 (2009): 1167–203. Cuevas García, Cristóbal. “La poética imposible de Quevedo.” La Perinola 7 (2003): 191–206. [ 410 ]

Garcia de Resende Deyermond, Alan. “Baena, Santillana, Resende and the Silent Century of Portuguese Court Poetry.” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 59, no. 3 (1982): 198–210. Gómez-Bravo, Ana M. “Práctica poética y cultura manuscrita en el Cancioneiro geral de Resende.” In Iberia cantat: Estudios sobre poesía hispánica medieval, edited by Juan Casas Rigall and Eva María Díaz Martínez, 445–58. Santiago de Compostela, Spain: Universidade de Santiago de Compostela, 2002. Resende, Garcia de. Cancioneiro geral de Garcia de Resende. Edited by Cristina Almeida Ribeiro. Lisbon: Comunicação, 1993. ———. Cancioneiro geral de Garcia de Resende. Edited by Aida Fernanda Dias. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 1993–2003. ———. Poesia de Garcia de Resende. Edited by José Camões. Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações Descobrimentos Portugueses, 1999. Rodrigues de Sousa, Sara. “Diálogos ibéricos en el Cancioneiro geral de García de Resende.” In Diálogos ibéricos e iberoamericanos: Actas del VI congreso internacional de la Asociación de Jóvenes Investigadores de la Literatura Hispánica celebrado en la Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa entre el 27 y el 30 de abril de 2009, 887–99. Lisbon: Asociación de Jóvenes Investigadores de la Literatura Hispánica and Centro de Estudos Comparatistas da Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa, 2010. [ 411 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Durán, Manuel. Francisco de Quevedo. Madrid: Edaf, 1978. Lombó Mulliert, Pablo. “Argumentación e hipótesis en los sonetos de Francisco de Quevedo.” Perinola 11 (2007): 97–114. Olivares, Julián, Dora Carlisky Pozzi, and Alberto de la Fuente. La poesía amorosa de Francisco de Quevedo: Estudio estético y existencial. Madrid: Siglo XXI, 1995. Pérez-Rasilla, E., and José Manuel Querol Sanz. Claves de la obra poética, Francisco de Quevedo. Madrid: Ciclo, 1991. Quevedo, Francisco de. Antología poética. Edited by Jorge Luis Borges. Madrid: Alianza, 1982. ———. Antología poética. Edited by Esteban Gutiérrez Díaz-Bernardo. Madrid: Castalia, 1989. ———. Obra poética. Edited by José Manuel Blecua. Madrid: Castalia, 1969–81. ———. Poesía inédita: Atribuciones del manuscrito de Évora. Edited by María Hernández. Barcelona: Libros del Silencio, 2010. ———. Poesía moral. Edited by Alfonso Rey. Madrid: Támesis, 1999. ———. Selected Poetry of Francisco de Quevedo. Edited and translated by Christopher Johnson. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009. Rey, Alfonso. Quevedo y la poesía moral española. Madrid: Castalia, 1995. ———. Quevedo y su poética dedicada a Olivares: Estudio y edición. Edited by Elias L. Rivers. Pamplona, Spain: Universidad de Navarra, 1998. Walters, D. Gareth. “Demons of the Night: Quevedo’s Sonnet ‘A fugitivas sombras,’ the Melancholy Humour, and Paracelsus.” Modern Language Review 106, no. 3 (2011): 765–78.

Bernardim Ribeiro Carvalho, José G. Herculano de. “A influência italiana em Bernardim Ribeiro.” Revista da Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa 3, no. 1 (1957): 121–33. Cunha, Celso. “A linguagem poética portuguesa na primeira metade do século XVI: Hiato, sinalefa e elisão nas Eglogas de Bernardim Ribeiro e no Crisfal.” Boletim de Filologia 19 (1960): 113–29. Neves, Leonor Curado. “Bernardim Ribeiro, leitor de Ovídio.” Evphrosyne 26 (1998): 269–76. Ribeiro, Bernardim. Éclogas. Edited by Manuel Marques Braga. Lisbon: Museu Comercial, 1923. ———. Obras de Bernardim Ribeiro. Edited by Helder Macedo and Mauricio Matos. Lisbon: Presença, 2010. Sena, Jorge de. “A Sextina e a Sextina de Bernardim Ribeiro.” Revista de Letras da Faculdade de Filosofia, Ciências e Letras de Assis 4 (1963): 137–76.

Francisco Rodrigues Lobo Pontes, Maria de Lourdes Belchior Pontes. Itinerário poético de Rodrigues Lobo. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 1985. Preto-Rodas, Richard A. Francisco Rodrigues Lobo: Dialogue and Courtly Lore in Renaissance Portugal. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1971. Santos dos Pereira, António. “Didactismo em D. António de Guevara e Francisco Rodrigues Lobo.” Limite 3 (2009): 69–92. Schnerr, Walter J. “Two Courtiers: Castiglione and Rodrigues Lobo.” Comparative Literature 13, no. 2 (1961): 138–53. Rodrigues Lobo, Francisco. As églogas. Edited by Manuel de Sousa Pinto. Lisbon: Empresa Diário de Notícias, 1924. ———. Poesia. Lisbon: Comunicação, 1985. ———. Poesia e prosa. Edited by Mário Gonçalves Viana. Porto, Portugal: Editora Educação Nacional, 1943. ———. Poesias. Edited by Afonso Lopes Vieira. Lisbon: Sá de Costa, 1968.

Joan Rois de Corella Badia Pamiés, Lola. De Bernat Metge a Joan Roís de Corella: Estudis sobre la cultura literària de la tardor medieval catalana. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, 1988. García Sempere, Marinela. “e Religious Poetry of Bernat Fenollar, Joan Escrivà and Roís de Corrella in Its Literary Context.” Catalan Review 11, no. 1–2 (1997): 73–82. Martos, Josep Lluís. Fonts i seqüència cronològica de les proses mitològiques de Joan Roís de Corrella. Alacant, Spain: Universitat d’Alacant, Departament de Filologia Catalana 2001. Rois de Corella, Joan. Obres completes. Edited by Jordi Carbonell. Valencia, Spain: Albatros, 1973. [ 412 ]

Francisco de Sá de Miranda Earle, T. F. eme and Image in the Poetry of Sá de Miranda. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1980. Franco, Marcia Arruda. Sá de Miranda: Poeta do Século de Ouro. Coimbra, Portugal: Angelus Novus, 2005. ———. Sá de Miranda, um poeta no século XX. Coimbra, Portugal: Angelus Novus, 2001. Sá de Miranda, Francisco. Obras completas. Edited by Manuel Rodrigues Lapa. Lisbon: Sá de Costa, 1976–77. ———. Poesía castellana completa. Edited by José Jiménez Ruiz. Málaga, Spain: Universidad de Málaga, 2010. ———. Poesias de Francisco Sá de Miranda. Edited by Carolina Michaëlis de Vasconcellos. Halle, Germany: Max Niemeyer, 1885.

Íñigo López de Mendoza, Marqués de Santillana Durán, Manuel. “Santillana y el Prerrenacimiento.” Nueva Revista de Filología Hispánica 15, no. 3–4 (1961): 343–63. Folch, Artemi. El marqués de Santillana y Cataluña. Barcelona: Gustavo Gili, 1978. Foster, David William. “Sonnet XIV of the Marqués de Santillana and the Waning of the Middle Ages.” Hispania 50, no. 3 (1967): 442–46. Gimeno Casalduero, Joaquín. “El Triunphete de amor del marqués de Santillana: Fuentes, composición y significado.” Nueva Revista de Filología Hispánica 28, no. 2 (1979): 318–27. Santillana, Íñigo López de Mendoza, Marqués de. Comedieta de Ponza, sonetos, serranillas y otras obras. Edited by Rugula Rohland de Langbehn. Barcelona: Crítica, 1997. ———. Poesías completas. Edited by Maxim P. A. M. Kerkhof and Angel Gómez Moreno. Madrid: Castalia, 2003. Santoyo Mediavilla, Julio César. “La ‘escuela de traductores’ de Íñigo López de Mendoza, marqués de Santillana.” In Ética y política de la traducción literaria. Málaga, Spain: Miguel Gómez, 2004.

Luisa Sigea de Velasco Del Castillo Herrera, Marina. “Las dos versiones del poema ‘Sintra’ de Luisa Sigea.” In Humanismo y pervivencia del mundo clásico: Homenaje al profesor Luis Gil, edited by José María Maestre Maestre, Luis Charlo Brea, and Joaquín Pascual Barea, [ 413 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

———. Tragèdia de Caldesa i altres proses. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1980. Romeu i Figueras, Josep. “Dos poemes de Joan Roís de Corella: ‘A Caldesa’ i ‘La sepultura.’ ” In Estudis en memoria del profesor Manuel Sanchís Guarner: Estudis de llengua i literatura, 1:299–308. Valencia, Spain: Universitat de València, 1984.

1127–32. Cádiz, Spain: Universidad de Cádiz and Ayuntamiento de Alcañiz, 1997. George, Edward V. “Luisa Sigea (1522–1560): Iberian Scholar-Poet.” In Women Writing Latin: From Roman Antiquity to Early Modern Europe, vol. 3, Early Modern Women Writing Latin, edited by Laurie J. Churchill, Phyllis R. Brown, and Jane E. Jeey, 167–87. London: Routledge; 2002. Martínez Góngora, Mar. “Poesía, melancolía y subjetividad femenina: La humanista Luisa Sigea.” Neophilologus 90, no. 3 (2006): 423–43. Michaëlis de Vasconcelos, Carolina. A infanta D. Maria de Portugal (1521–1577) e as suas damas. Lisbon: Biblioteca Nacional de Portugal, 1994. Navarro, Ana, ed. Antología poética de escritoras de los siglos XVI y XVII. Madrid: Castalia, 1989. Rada, Inés. “Profil et trajectoire d’une femme humaniste: Luisa Sigea.” In Images de la femme en Espagne aux XVIe et XVIIe siècles: Des traditions aux renouvellements et à l’émergence d’images nouvelles, edited by Augustin Redondo, 339–49. Paris: Presses de la Sorbonne Nouvelle, 1994. Rey Hazas, Antonio. “Corte y literatura en el XVI peninsular: Un portugués en España y una española en Portugal; Los caminos cruzados de Jorge de Montemayor y Luisa Sigea.” In Las relaciones discretas entre las monarquías hispana y portuguesa: Las casas de las reinas (siglos XV-XIX), edited by José Martínez Millán and Maria Paula Marçal Lourenço, 3:1685–1710. Madrid: Polifemo, 2009.

Santa Teresa de Ávila Aranguren, José Luis L. Ávila de Santa Teresa de Jesús y de San Juan de la Cruz. Barcelona: Planeta, 1993. Carrera, Elena. “Lovesickness and the erapy of Desire: Aquinas, Cancionero Poetry, and Teresa of Avila’s ‘Muero porque no muero.’ ” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 86, no. 6 (2009): 729–42. Carrión, María M. “Scent of a Mystic Woman: Teresa de Jesús and the Interior Castle.” Medieval Encounters 15, no. 1 (2009): 130–56. Hatzfeld, Helmut Anthony. Santa Teresa de Ávila. New York: Twayne, 1969. Sánchez, Jesús Caro. Intimidad y misticismo en Teresa de Jesús. Ávila, Spain: Institución “Gran Duque de Alba” de la Diputación de Ávila, 2005. Mujica, Barbara Louise. Teresa de Avila, Leered Woman. Nashville, TN: Vanderbilt University Press, 2009. Teresa de Ávila. e Complete Works of Saint Teresa of Jesus. Edited and translated by E. Allison Peers. London: Sheed and Ward, 1963. ———. Poesías. Madrid: Bruno del Amo, 1925. Weber, Alison, ed. Approaches to Teaching Teresa of Avila and the Spanish Mystics. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 2009. ———. Teresa of Avila and the Rhetoric of Femininity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990.

[ 414 ]

Pögl, Johannes. De poesía comarcano: Joan Timoneda, Bestsellerautor im Spanien des 16. Jahrhunderts. Bonn, Germany: Romanistischer Verlag, 1996. Romeu i Figueras, Josep. Joan Timoneda i la “Flor de enamorados,” Canconer bilingüe: Un estudi i una aportació bibliográfica. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1972. Timoneda, Joan. Flor d’enamorats. Edited by Joan Fuster. Valencia: Albatros, 1973. ———. Obras completas de Juan de Timoneda. Edited by Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo. Valencia, Spain: Domenech, 1911.

Juan del Valle y Caviedes Arellano Ayuso, Ignacio. “Problemas textuales y anotación de la obra poética de Juan del Valle y Caviedes.” In Edición e interpretación de textos andinos: Actas del congreso internacional, edited by Ignacio Arellano Ayuso and José Antonio Mazzoi, 161–76. Frankfurt, Germany: Vervuert / Madrid: Iberoamericana, 2000. Barrera López, Trinidad. “La obra de Juan del Valle y Caviedes: Problemas de edición.” In Poesía satírica y burlesca en la Hispanoamérica colonial, edited by Ignacio Arellano Ayuso and Antonio Lorente, 29–39. Frankfurt, Germany: Vervuer / Madrid: Iberoamericana, 2009. Buedel, Barbara Foley. “Medieval Didacticism Recast as Baroque Satire: Juan del Valle y Caviedes’ ‘Privilegios del Pobre.’ ” MACLAS: Latin American Essays 5 (1991): 8–18. Caviedes, Juan del Valle y. Diente del Parnaso y otros poemas. Edited by Giuseppe Bellini. Roma: Bulzoni, 1997. ———. Obra completa. Edited by María Leticia Cáceres, Luis Jaime Cisneros, and Guillermo Lohmann Villena. Lima: Banco de Crédito del Perú, 1990. ———. Obra completa. Edited by Daniel R. Reedy. Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1984. ———. Obra poética: Poesías sueltas y bailes. Edited by Luis García-Abrines Calvo. Jaén, Spain: Diputación Provincial de Jaén, 1994. ———. Obras de don Juan del Valle y Caviedes. Edited by Rubén Vargas Ugarte. Lima: Stadium, 1947. Costigan, Lúcia Helena. “Relendo o Diente del Parnaso de Juan del Valle y Caviedes: Uma contribução para o estudo do intelectual criollo.” Revista de Estudios Hispánicos 9 (1992): 211–20. Lasarte, Pedro. “Algunas reflexiones en torno a una relación literaria: Juan del Valle y Caviedes y Francisco de Quevedo.” In La formación de la cultura virreinal, vol. 2, El siglo XVII, edited by Karl Kohut and Sonia V. Rose, 135–49. Frankfurt, Germany: Vervuert / Madrid: Iberoamericana, 2004. ———. “Juan del Valle y Caviedes y la sombra de Quevedo.” In Actas del XIV congreso de la Asociación Internacional de Hispanistas, vol. 4, Literatura hispanoamericana,

[ 415 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Joan Timoneda

edited by Isaías Lerner, Isaías, Robert Nival, and Alejandro Alonso, 323–29. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2004. ———. “ ‘La vieja y el periquillo’: Una aproximación a la Lima de Juan del Valle y Caviedes.” Calíope 4, no. 1–2 (1998): 125–39. ———. “Lima satirizada: Mateo Rosas de Oquendo y Juan del Valle y Caviedes.” In Agencias criollas: La ambiguedad “colonial” en las letras hispanoamericanas, edited by José Antonio Mazzoi, 233–47. Pisburgh, PA: Instituto Internacional de Literatura Iberoamericana, 2000. Reedy, Daniel R. e Poetic Art of Juan del Valle Caviedes. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1964.

Gil Vicente Calderón Calderón, Manuel. La lírica de tipo tradicional de Gil Vicente. Alcalá de Henares, Spain: Universidad de Alcalá de Henares, 1996. Fernández Hernández, Rafael José. “Gil Vicente o el equilibrio entre drama y poesía.” In Gil Vicente, clásico luso-español, edited by María Jesús Fernández García and Andrés José Pociña López, 143–56. Mérida, Spain: Junta de Extremadura, 2004. López Castro, Armando. “La lírica de Gil Vicente.” In Actas del III congreso de la Asociación Hispánica de Literatura Medieval, vols. 1–2, edited by María Isabel Toro Pascua, 517–24. Salamanca, Spain: Biblioteca Española del Siglo XV, Departamento de Literatura Española e Hispanoamericana, 1994. Pociña López, Andrés José. “A rosa como motivo simbólico na lírica de tipo tradicional de Gil Vicente.” Moenia 6 (2000): 305–17. Reckert, Stephen. O essencial sobre Gil Vicente. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional Casa da Moeda, 1985. ———. “La lírica de Gil Vicente: Estructura y estilo.” Cuadernos Hispanoamericanos 280–82 (1973): 463–86. Teyssier, Paul. Gil Vicente: O autor e a obra. Translated by Álvaro Salema. Lisbon: Instituto de Cultura e Língua Portuguesa, 1982. Vicente, Gil. Líricas castelhanas. Edited and translated by Paulo Quintela. Coimbra, Portugal: Atlântida Editora, 1966. ———. Lyrics of Gil Vicente: With the Portuguese Text. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1914. ———. Obras completas. Edited by Álvaro Júlio da Costa Pimpäo. Porto, Portugal: Livraria Civilização, 1979.

Sóror Violante do Céu Baranda Leturio, Nieves. “Violante do Céu y los avatares políticos de la Restauração.” Iberoamericana 7, no. 28 (2007): 137–50. Morujão, Isabel. “Entre o profano e o religioso: Processos de divinização na poesia de Sóror Violante do Céu.” Península 1 (2004): 277–88. [ 416 ]

[ 417 ]

* Selected Bibliography *

Pociña López, Andrés José. Sóror Violante do Ceu (1607–1693). Madrid: Ediciones del Orto, 1998. Simões, Manuel G. “Subsídios para o estudo da poesia de Violante do Céu: A poesia profana.” In O amor das letras e das gentes: In Honor of Maria de Lourdes Belchior Pontes, edited by João Camilo dos Santos and Frederick K. Williams, 127–36. Santa Barbara, CA: Center for Portuguese Studies, University of California, Santa Barbara, 1995. Violante do Céu, Sóror. Rimas várias. Edited by Margarida Vieira Mendes. Lisbon: Presença, 1994.

Index of First Lines

A fugitivas sombras doy abrazos (Quevedo) 316 Ages and lives pass (Fontanella) 349 A girl as beautiful (Marqués de Santillana) 25 Águas que penduradas desta altura (Rodrigues Lobo) 296 Ai, cap de tal en mi! No só mussol (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 308 Així com cell que desija vianda (March) 34 All praise goes to God, on high (Aljamiado poem) 207 Allure and Love, which engender great desire (March) 33 Alt e amor, d’on gran desig s’engendra (March) 32 Amid so much change (Ribeiro) 75 Amor é um fogo que arde sem se ver (Camões) 222 Amor, se uma mudança imaginada (Sóror Violante do Céu) 338 A moura killed me and not a mouro (Vicente) 51 An end, a hope, a how, or a when (Sigea de Velasco) 167 A powerful knight is Sir Money (Quevedo) 321 Aquela cativa (Camões) 224 Aquela fé tão clara e verdadeira (Sá de Miranda) 98 [ 419 ]

Aquela triste e leda madrugada (Camões) 224 Aquella voluntad honesta y pura (Garcilaso de la Vega) 120 As long as the colors of rose and lily (Garcilaso de la Vega) 111 A thousand times I remain silent when I want (Aldana) 175 A vós correndo vou, braços sagrados (Matos) 362 Belardo is looking at the ashes (Lope de Vega) 281 Boscán, las armas y el furor de Marte (Garcilaso de la Vega) 112 Boscán, the arms and fury of Mars (Garcilaso de la Vega) 113 Buscas en Roma a Roma, ¡oh, peregrino! (Quevedo) 314 By the rivers that flow (Camões) 227 Campuzano was a fencing master (Cervantes) 267 Cá nesta Babilónia, donde mana (Camões) 222 Colguen les gents ab alegria festes (March) 36 Come here, paper—trusted confidant (Camões) 247 Com quantas cousas perdi (Ribeiro) 74

Cuál es la causa, mi Damón, que estando (Aldana) 174 Cual parece el romper de la mañana (Góngora) 286 Cuando contemplo el cielo (Fray Luis de León) 158 Cuando me paro a contemplar mi estado (Garcilaso de la Vega) 110 Cuán triste es, Dios mío (Teresa de Ávila) 184 Cuelga sangriento de la cama al suelo (Lope de Vega) 274 Deixas-me, Inês, por escolher Joane (Rodrigues Lobo) 298 De la florida falda (Góngora) 290 Del Tibre emvuelto a nuestro Tajo ufano (Sá de Miranda) 100 Dicen que me case yo (Vicente) 50 Divine rose so remarkably cultivated (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 369 Dulce soñar y dulce congojarme (Boscà) 104 El pobre es tonto, si calla (Caviedes) 378 É minha ventura tal (Caminha) 148 En este occidental, en este, oh Licio (Góngora) 288 En lletres d’or, tendreu en lo sepulcre (Rois de Corella) 44 En tanto que de rosa y azucena (Garcilaso de la Vega) 110 Entre tamanhas mudanças (Ribeiro) 74 En una noche oscura (San Juan de la Cruz) 178 Érase un hombre a una nariz pegado (Quevedo) 318 Escuta ó Sara, pois te falta espelho (Noronha) 328 Este, que ves, engaño colorido (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 368 Es yelo abrasador, es fuego helado (Quevedo) 314 Eu cantarei de amor tão docemente (Camões) 220

[ 420 ]

Eu cantarei de amor tão novamente (Caminha) 148 Far om you and close to unease (Marqués de Santillana) 25 Folgaba el Rey Rodrigo (Fray Luis de León) 154 From the enfolded Tiber to our abundant Tagus (Sá de Miranda) 101 From the flowery slope (Góngora) 291 Gastando fue el amor mis tristes años (Montemayor) 194 Gaste, qui de les flors de poesia (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 306 Green allure of human life (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 371 Há cousa como ver um Paiaiá (Matos) 362 Having a mulao son is the finest (Caviedes) 379 Here in this Babylon, om which flows (Camões) 223 Hombres necios que acusáis (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 370 How blindly, Love, I devote myself to you (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 309 How sad it is, my God (Teresa de Ávila) 185 I am like that man who lives in the desert (Boscà) 105 I am who I am, but I am not myself (Timoneda) 203 I am young and beautiful (Timoneda) 201 I don’t complain of the harm (Montemayor) 195 I embrace fleeting shadows (Quevedo) 317 If om my lowly lyre (Garcilaso de la Vega) 113 If I could but fit in my verses and my song (Rodrigues Lobo) 297

Just as at the break of day (Góngora) 287 King Roderick was having his way (Fray Luis de León) 155 Ladies, if some gentleman (Resende) 59 La dulce boca que a gustar convida (Góngora) 288 La monarquia regint (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 304 Las loores son ada Allah, el alto, verdadero (Aljamiado poem) 206

[ 421 ]

Lejos de vos y cerca de cuidado (Marqués de Santillana) 24 Let the people engage in happy merrymaking (March) 37 Like a man who desires food (March) 35 Listen, oh Sara, since you lack a mirror (Noronha) 329 Lleixant a part l’estil dels trobadors (March) 30 Look, Zaide, for I tell you (Lope de Vega) 277 Love iered away all my sad years (Montemayor) 195 Love, if an imagined alteration (Sóror Violante do Céu) 339 Love is a fire that burns without being seen (Camões) 223 Lying in the best part of Spain (Cervantes) 269 Maestro era de esgrima Campuzano (Cervantes) 266 Matou-me moura e não mouro (Vicente) 50 Mientras Corinto, en lágrimas deshecho (Góngora) 290 Mientras por competir con tu cabello (Góngora) 286 Mil veces callo que romper deseo (Aldana) 174 Mirando está las cenizas (Lope de Vega) 280 Mira, Zaide, que te digo (Lope de Vega) 276 Miré los muros de la patria mía (Quevedo) 318 Moza tan fermosa (Marqués de Santillana) 24 Mudam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades (Camões) 220 Musas, que no jardim do rei do dia (Sóror Violante do Céu) 340 Muses, who loosen your voice in the garden (Sóror Violante do Céu) 341 My fortune is such (Caminha) 149

* Index of First Lines *

If my soul errs in thinking so much of you (Ferreira) 145 I follow the force of my fate (Herrera) 171 If the hot iron cools the chaste hand (Rois de Corella) 45 If when sweet life is separated om the body (Sóror Violante do Céu) 339 If your eyes were to gaze upon one place (Quevedo) 317 I have given myself (Teresa de Ávila) 189 I looked upon the walls of my native country (Quevedo) 319 In leers of gold, you will have (Rois de Corella) 45 In this Occidental, oh Licio (Góngora) 289 Is there anything like a Paiaiá (Matos) 363 It’s burning ice, it’s ozen fire (Quevedo) 315 It was a sweet dream and a sweet affliction (Boscà) 105 I vow by God that all this grandeur startles me (Cervantes) 267 I wish that sad and joyous dawn (Camões) 225 I would sing of love in so esh a way (Caminha) 149 I would sing of love so sweetly (Camões) 221

Não Tejo, Douro, Zêzer, Minho, Odiana (Ferreira) 144 Neither the Tagus, Douro, Zêzere, Minho, Guadiana (Ferreira) 145 Never was there a greater pain (Ribeiro) 75 No hi ha al món major dolor (Timoneda) 200 No me quejo yo del daño (Montemayor) 194 Nunca foi mal nenhum mor (Ribeiro) 74 Oh, don’t be ightened, Dom Antónia (Matos) 357 Oh, dures fletxes de mon fat rompudes (Fontanella) 348 Oh, flame of undying love (San Juan de la Cruz) 181 Oh, hard, broken arrows of my fate (Fontanella) 349 Oh, llama de amor viva (San Juan de la Cruz) 180 Oh, não te espantes não, Dom Antónia (Matos) 356 Oh, pilgrim! You look for Rome in Rome (Quevedo) 315 Oh, that’s it! I’m not some idiot (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 309 On a dark night (San Juan de la Cruz) 179 Once there was a man stuck to a nose (Quevedo) 319 One day I saw death walking along (Melo) 345 O sol é grande: caem co’a calma as aves (Sá de Miranda) 98 Passen edats i vides (Fontanella) 348 Place me in the most brutal, relentless life (Boscà) 107 Poderoso caballero es don Dinero (Quevedo) 320 Ponme en la vida más brava, importuna (Boscà) 106 Porque a natural condição dos portugueses (Resende) 56 [ 422 ]

Portugal, Portugal, és um sandeu (Noronha) 328 Portugal, Portugal, you’re an imbecile (Noronha) 329 Pues la sancta Inquisición (Castillejo) 80 Que cegament, Amor, a tu em dedico (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 308 Que importa ao crédito vosso (Noronha) 334 ¿Qué tengo yo que mi amistad procuras? (Lope de Vega) 274 Red Sun that with your luminous ax (Herrera) 171 Rosa divina que en gentil cultura (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 368 Roxo Sol que con hacha luminosa (Herrera) 170 Se apartada do corpo a doce vida (Sóror Violante do Céu) 338 Se coubesse em meus versos, e em meu canto (Rodrigues Lobo) 296 Senhoras, s’algum senhor (Resende) 58 Serei eu alguma hora tão ditoso (Melo) 344 S’erra minh’alma, em contemplar-vos tanto (Ferreira) 144 Si a una parte miraran solamente (Quevedo) 316 Si de mi baja lira (Garcilaso de la Vega) 112 Si el ferro cald reeda la mà casta (Rois de Corella) 44 Since the Holy Inquisition (Castillejo) 81 Since the natural condition of the Portuguese (Resende) 57 Sôbolos rios que vão (Camões) 226 Só qui só, que no só io (Timoneda) 202 Soy como aquel que vive en el desierto (Boscà) 104 Soy garridica (Timoneda) 200 Stupid men who wrongly accuse women (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 371

Un fin, una esperanza, un cómo o cuándo (Sigea de Velasco) 166 Un mulato por hijo es el más bravo (Caviedes) 378 Un soneto me manda hacer Violante (Lope de Vega) 272 Violante orders me to compose a sonnet (Lope de Vega) 273

[ 423 ]

Verde embeleso de la vida humana (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 370 Vierte racimos la gloriosa palma (Lope de Vega) 272 Vi eu um dia a Morte andar folgando (Melo) 344 Vinde cá, meu tão certo secretário (Camões) 246 Voto a Dios que me espanta esta grandeza (Cervantes) 266 Voy siguiendo la fuerza de mi hado (Herrera) 170 Waters hanging om this height (Rodrigues Lobo) 297 What does it maer to your virtue (Noronha) 335 When I contemplate the heavens (Fray Luis de León) 159 When I stop to contemplate my situation (Garcilaso de la Vega) 111 While Corinth, undone in tears (Góngora) 291 While to compete with your hair (Góngora) 287 Why is it so, my Damón, that while we’re (Aldana) 175 Will I ever be so blessed (Melo) 345 With all that I’ve lost (Ribeiro) 75 Yace en la parte que es mejor de España (Cervantes) 268 Ya toda me entregué y di (Teresa de Ávila) 188 You leave me, Inês, to choose Joane (Rodrigues Lobo) 299

* Index of First Lines *

That faith so clear and true (Sá de Miranda) 99 That honest and pure will (Garcilaso de la Vega) 121 That slave (Camões) 225 The bloody right shoulder of the ferocious tyrant (Lope de Vega) 275 The glorious palm sheds its leaves (Lope de Vega) 273 The monarchy belongs (Garcia i Torres, Rector de Vallfogona) 305 The poor man is stupid if silent (Caviedes) 379 There is in the world no greater pain (Timoneda) 201 The sun is large: the birds calmly descend (Sá de Miranda) 99 The sweet mouth that invites you (Góngora) 289 They’ve told me to marry (Vicente) 51 This colorful deceit that you see (Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz) 369 Times change and desires change (Camões) 221 To you I go running, holy arms (Matos) 363