| SOR JUANA INES DE LA CRUZ |
| These lying pigments facing you, With every charm brush can supply Set up false premises of color To lead astray the unwary eye. Here, against ghastly tolls of time. Bland flattery has staked a claim, Defying the power of passing years To wipe out memory and name. And here, in this hollow artifice- Frail blossom hanging on the wind, Vain pleading in a foolish cause, Poor shield against what fate has wrought- All efforts fail and in the end A body goes to dust, to shade, to naught. |