If I were a man, I'd have all the moonlight,
and shadow, and silence ~ I wanted!
How I'd walk night after night
through the quiet fields, and watch the ocean!

If I were a man, what a strange, odd,
purposeful vagabond I'd become!
Friend of all the open roads
that beckon, on and on and on!

When restless travel pesters me, tempting,
how deeply I resent I am a woman!
Juana de Ibarbourou
Uruguay
Trans: Sophie Cabot Black

The original is stone, the portraits wax;
the first is ungrateful, the second a flatter.
Who joined hard marble with soft wax,
when the latter is merciful,
the former ungrateful?

Who but love could do so with his intriguing?
Who but intrigue could do anything with love?
As the sun and the moon in the upper sphere
have an arrangement with the darness and the light.

It was well then that a murmuring bee offered
his libation of flowers to Fili's portrait,
for love turns hard marble to wax.

But, alas, she is wax in her inconstancy,
and stone only in her cruelty.
Who then is safe from her inconstancy?
Francisco Figueroa

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