Al excelentísimo señor el Conde-Duque

En la capilla estoy y condenado
a pasar sin remedio de esta vida.
Siento la causa aún más que la partida,
por hambre expulso como sitïado.

Culpa ha sido el ser yo tan desdichado;
mayor, de condición ser encogida.
De ellas me acuso en esta despedida,
y partiré a lo menos confesado.

Examine mi suerte el hierro agudo,
que a pesar de sus filos me prometo
alta piedad de vuestra excelsa mano.

Ya que mi encogimiento ha sido mudo,
los números, señor, de este soneto
lengua sean y lágrimas no en vano.



To His Excellency the Conde-Duque

I find I'm in the chapel and condemned
to pass from life with no hope of relief.
I rue the cause more, even, than departure,
by hunger exiled like a man besieged.

The fault is in my being so unlucky;
in my timidity, fault greater yet.
I blame myself for both as I embark,
and I will leave at least having confessed.

May the sharp steel blade adjudge my fate,
which, though it's fine edge nears, still I may see
exalted mercy from your noble hand.

Since I have told you nothing of my shame,
I'll let the lines, sir, of this sonnet be
my tongue and tears and not a vain demand. 

                     (©Alix Ingber, 1995)



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E-mail your comments and questions to:

Alix Ingber
Professor of Spanish
Sweet Briar College

ingber@sbc.edu



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