Month: March 2025

Translated to English by Richard Gabela on March 5, 2025, from the original work Una Dama Imaginaria by Juan Bautista de Aguirre (1725–1786) of Daule, Ecuador. This poem was published posthumously in Poesías y obras oratorias (1943), but it was written during Aguirre’s lifetime.

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An Imaginary Lady

What a lovely face you have,
God help you, girl,
for if I look at you, I surrender,
and if you look at me, I die.

Those beautiful eyes of yours,
divine ingrate,
are harpoons when you shoot them,
daggers when you pierce with them.

That mischievous mouth of yours
offers, between coral and mother-of-pearl,
a poison that gives life
and a sweetness that kills.

In it, all graces live—
a rare privilege,
that beauty exists in your lips
without misfortune dwelling there.

There is charm and delight
in your figure and your face;
your whole body is breath,
and all your breath is soul.

Your untamed hair
proudly declares
that beauty exists in blackness,
and grace in what seems unkempt.

Your eyebrows form love’s bow,
and from their tyrant arrows,
neither is he wise who defends himself,
nor is he fortunate who escapes.

How disdainfully you mock!
How treacherously you boast!
Firm against so many sufferings,
false to so many devotions.

How poorly you imitate the heavens,
so lavish with their graces,
for you do not know how to grant one,
though you know how to possess so many!

Translator’s Note: Juan Bautista de Aguirre was a Jesuit priest and poet from colonial Ecuador whose works reflect a refined literary style influenced by the Spanish Golden Age. His poetry ranges from religious and philosophical themes to love and beauty, often blending admiration with irony. Una Dama Imaginaria is a striking example of this, portraying an idealized woman whose charm is both enchanting and cruel. The poem’s rich metaphors and elegant phrasing capture the tension between desire and unattainability, a theme that remains timeless. In translating this piece, my aim was to preserve Aguirre’s musicality and vivid imagery while maintaining the clarity and meaning of the original Spanish.

Original Spanish

Una Dama Imaginaria

Qué linda cara que tienes,
válgate Dios por muchacha,
que si te miro, me rindes
y si me miras, me matas.

Esos tus hermosos ojos
son en ti, divina ingrata,
arpones cuando los flechas,
puñales cuando los clavas.

Esa tu boca traviesa
brinda, entre coral y nácar,
un veneno que da vida
y una dulzura que mata.

En ella las gracias viven:
novedad privilegiada,
que haya en tu boca hermosura
sin que haya en ella desgracia.

Primores y agrados hay
en tu talle y en tu cara;
todo tu cuerpo es aliento,
y todo tu aliento es alma.

El licencioso cabello
airosamente declara
que hay en lo negro hermosura,
y en lo desairado hay gala.

Arco de amor son tus cejas,
de cuyas flechas tiranas,
ni quien se defiende es cuerdo,
ni dichoso quien se escapa.

¡Qué desdeñosa te burlas!
y ¡qué traidora te ufanas,
a tantas fatigas firme
y a tantas finezas falsa!

¡Qué mal imitas al cielo
pródigo contigo en gracias,
pues no sabes hacer una
cuando sabes tener tantas!

Translated to English by Richard Gabela on March 4, 2025, from the original work A mi primogénito by Joaquín Gallegos Del Campo (1873–1910) of Guayaquil, Ecuador. This poem was published posthumously in Mis recuerdos: poesías líricas y cuentos en prosa (1912), a collection compiled by his widow, Emma Lara Calderón.

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To My Firstborn

Your little eyes, mirrors of my own,
so full of wonder in your tender years,
shine with a light that soothes my sorrows
and restores all strength within me.

May God shield you from affliction’s turmoil,
may fragrant blossoms line your path;
may fate’s harsh hand never bear down upon you,
nor fortune leave you adrift in its wayward turns.

Gripped by immense pain,
struggling in life’s deepest waters,
I place my faith in you, and with you, my thoughts remain.

And though sorrow may someday pierce your heart,
my deepest longing is that you shall become
“the loving pillar on which your mother leans.”

Translator’s Note: Joaquín Gallegos Del Campo was a modernist poet, journalist, and liberal politician whose life was tragically cut short during a revolutionary riot. His literary work reflects both his political convictions and his deeply personal emotions. A mi primogénito is a poignant and intimate poem, written for his only son, Joaquín Gallegos Lara, who was not even two years old at the time of his father’s death. In these lines, Gallegos Del Campo expresses his hopes, fears, and enduring love for his child, wishing him a life free of misfortune and full of purpose. This translation seeks to preserve the tenderness and emotional weight of the original while maintaining its natural rhythm and clarity.

Original Spanish Version

A mi primogénito

Tus ojitos, espejos de los míos
en tan pequeña edad, preguntadores,
con sus luces alivian mis dolores
y vuelven a mi ser todos mis brios.

Quiera Dios no te aflijan desvaríos
y tu senda perfumen bellas flores;
que no sufran del hado los rigores,
ni te hiera la suerte en sus desvíos.

Atenaceado en mi dolor inmenso
con la vida, luchando en lo profundo
en ti pongo mi fe, contigo pienso;

Y aunque el pesar, el pecho te taladre,
es mi anhelo que seas en el mundo
“¡el sostén cariñoso de tu madre!”

Translated to English by Richard Gabela on March 3, 2025, from the original work “El Lunar” by Nicolás Augusto González (1858–1918) of Guayaquil, Ecuador.

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THE BEAUTY MARK

Not the innocence of your face, revealing
the quiet slumber of your tender heart,
nor the soft rise and fall of your breast,
nor your innocent grace that soothes the soul;

Not your brilliant, gazelle-like eyes,
nor your lips of crimson, a sacred urn
where a kiss seems to tremble,
like a butterfly yearning to take flight,

Inspires the lovestruck soul more deeply,
mad with your celestial charms
and long enchained beneath your sweet yoke,

Than that beauty mark that provokes adoration…
a small, fleeting brushstroke
that Love itself wished to place beside your lips!

Translator’s Note: Nicolás Augusto González was a multifaceted literary figure—poet, playwright, novelist, journalist, historian, and diplomat. His works often carried both artistic refinement and political weight, the latter even leading to his exile on multiple occasions. El Lunar is a beautifully crafted love poem that exemplifies the delicate, almost worshipful admiration of a beloved. In this sonnet, González lists the many divine qualities of his muse, only to reveal that none captivate the lovestruck soul more than the simple beauty of the small mark near her lips. The poem’s elegance lies in its contrast between grandeur and intimacy, and in translating it, I sought to preserve its reverence, rhythm, and poetic grace while ensuring that its essence remains as compelling in English as in the original Spanish.

Original Spanish

EL LUNAR

Ni el candor de tu rostro, que revela
que tu sensible corazón dormita,
ni tu mórbido seno que palpita,
ni tu inocente gracia que consuela;

Ni tus brillantes ojos de gacela,
ni tu boca de grana, urna bendita
donde un beso parece que se agita
cual mariposa que volar anhela,

Inspiran más al alma enamorada,
por sus encantos celestiales loca
y a tu yugo hace tiempo enamorada,

que ese lunar que adoración provoca…
¡pequeña, fugitiva pincelada
que el Amor quiso dar junto a tu boca!