Celia saw a rose which in happy self-praise
flaunted its pomp and vanity in the field,
cosmetics of carmine and cochineal
merrily smeared over its delicate face;
Savor without fear of Fate, she stopped to say,
the fleeting course of your youthful hour,
the death of tomorrow has no power
to take the pleasure you enjoy today.
although death may come, and it comes fast,
don’t grieve when fragrant life returns to mould
and you die while youth and loveliness last;
consider, by experience you are told
it’s good fortune to die before beauty’s past
and never know the affront of growing old.
Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1651 - 1695) Mexico
Translated by Enriqueta Carrington
Source: The New Formalist
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