Juana Ines
| Juana
lady of mine and of all beloved women distant and hallucinated magician of verse, stranger to time, barefoot among the convents. On what night of wrath and jaguars did you give away your instruments? Why did you choose the muteness of the humble? Who incited you to punish yourself, to abandon the highest jewels of your knowledge, your sequins of verse, and keep only the wounds behind the windows with shrouds covering the darkness of your shaved head? Why did death so insouciantly steal your light? |
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