In the embraces, which my thought,
Not even in its boldest vein,
Could scarce to hope for have been brought,
Presumptuous to attain.
TO ENARDA.—I.[1]
Lovely Enarda! young and old
All quarrel with me daily:
Because I write to thee they scold,
Perhaps sweet verses gaily.
"A judge should be more grave," they say,
As each my song accuses;
"From such pursuits should turn away
As trifling with the Muses."
"How wofully you waste your time!"
Preach others; but, all slighting,
The more they scold, the more I rhyme;
Still I must keep on writing.
Enarda's heart and mind to praise,
All others far excelling,
My rustic pipe its note shall raise,
In well-toned measures telling.
- ↑ From the same, p. 368. In submission to the recommendations of several friends to give the original of at least part or the whole of some one poem of each author, from whose works the translations have been made, selections of such as the English students of Spanish literature would probably most desire, are offered for their comparison.
Riñen me bella Enarda
Los mozos y los viejos,
Por que tal vez jugando
Te escribo dulces versos.
Debiera un magistrado
(Susurran) mas severo,
De las livianas Musas
Huir el vil comercio.
Que mal el tiempo gastas!
Predican otros,—pero
Por mas que todos riñan
Tengo de escribir versos.Quiero loar de Enarda
El peregrino ingenio
Al son de mi zampona
Y en bien medidos metros.
Quiero de su hermosura
Encaramar al cielo
Las altas perfecciones;
De su semblante quiero
Cantar el dulce hechizo
Y con pincel maestro
Pintar su frente hermosa
Sus traviesos ojuelos,
El carmin de sus labios,
La nieve de su cuello;
Y vayanse á la . . . . al rollo
Los Catonianos ceños
Las frentes arrugadas
Y adustos sobrecejos,
Que Enarda será siempre
Celebrada en mis versos
