 |
"Sonnet 2" ~Garcilaso de la Vega |
| En fin, a vuestras manos he venido, do sé que he de morir tan apretado, que aun aliviar con quejas mi cuidado, como remedio, me es ya defendido; mi vida no sé en qué se ha sostenido, si no es en haber sido yo guardado para que sólo en mí fuese probado cuanto corta una espada en un rendido. Mis lágrimas han sido derramadas donde la sequedad y la aspereza dieron mal fruto dellas y mi suerte: ¡basten las que por vos tengo lloradas; no os venguéis más de mí con mi flaqueza; allá os vengad, señora, con mi muerte! |
At last, to your hands have I myself remanded, which I know in dying I have so pressed, that even alleviating with demurs my distress, as remedy, it is by me yet defended; my life, I know not what it has upheld, since it is not I having been unruined for seems in me alone was it proven how much cuts a sword through a vassal. My tears, they have been wholly drained where the desolate dryness and roughness give poor fruit for them and my luckless breath. Let enough be what I for you have wept; do not come more for me in my weakness; avenge others, madam, with my death! |
