To the book of Don Quixote of La Mancha
URGANDA THE UNRECOGNIZED 15
If to reach goodly read-
oh book, you proceed with cau-,
you cannot, by the fool-,
be called a stumbling nin-.
But if you are too impa
and pull the loaf untime-
from the fire and go careen-
into the hands of the dim
you’ll see them lost and puzz-
though they long to appear learn-.
And since experience teach-
that ’neath a tree that’s stur
the shade is the most shelt
in Béjar your star so luck-
unto you a royal tree off-,
its fruit most noble prin-;
there a generous duke does flow-,
like a second Alexand-:
seek out his shade, for bold-
is favored by Dame Fort-.16
You will recount the advent-
of a gentleman from La Manch-
whose idle reading of nov-
caused him to lose his reas-:
fair maidens, arms, and chiv
spurred him to imita
of Orlando Furio-,17
exemplar of knightly lov-;
by feats of his arm so might-
he won the lady of Tobo-.
Do not inscribe indiscre
on your shield, or hieroglyph-;
for when your hand lacks face-
with deuces and treys you wag-.
Be humble in your dedica
and you will hear no deri-;
“What? Don Alvaro de la Lu-,18
and great Hannibal of Carth-,
and in Spain, King Francis-
all lamenting his misfor-!”
Since it’s not the will of hea
for you to be quite as cle
as Juan Latin the Afri-,19
avoid Latin words and phra-.
Don’t pretend to erudi-,
or make claims to philo-;
when you commence the fak
and twist your mouth in decep-
those who are truly the
learn-will call your tricks into ques-.
Don’t mind the business of oth-,
and don’t engage in gos-;
it’s a sign of utmost wis-:
ignore the faults of your broth-.
Those who speak much too glib
often fail in their inten-;
your only goal and ambi-
should be a good reputa-;
the writer who stoops to fol-
gains nothing but constant cen-.
Be careful: it is impru
if your walls are made of crys
to pick up stones and peb
and throw them at your neigh-.
Let the mature man of reas
in the works that he compo-
place his feet with circumspec-;
if his writing’s too lightheart-,
meant for young girls’ sheer amuse-,
he writes only for the sim-.
AMADÍS OF GAUL 20 TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA
A Sonnet
You, who mimicked the tearful life of woe
that I, in isolation, scorned by love,
led on the lofty heights of Peña Pobre,21
when all my joy did shrink to penitence,
you, to whom your eyes did give to drink
abundant waters, though briny with salt tears,
and, removing for your sake its min’ral wealth,
earth did give of the earth for you to eat,
be certain that for all eternity,
as long, at least, as golden-haired Apollo
drives steeds across the fourth celestial sphere,
you will enjoy renown as a valiant knight;
your kingdom will be first among all realms;
and your wise chronicler, unique on earth.
DON BELIANÍS OF GREECE 22 TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA
A Sonnet
I bruised, and fought, and cut, and said, and did
more than any knight errant who e’er lived;
I was deft, I was valiant, I was proud;
I avenged a thousand wrongs and righted more.
To Lady Fame I gave eternal deeds;
I was a lover courtly and discreet;
to me great giants were no more than dwarves,
and I answered every challenge with a duel.
I had Dame Fortune prostrate at my feet;
my prudence seized on Chance and never failed
to turn her to me, pulling with both hands.
And yet, though my good fortunes ever soared
as high as the hornéd moon that sails the sky,
I envy, O Quixote, your great feats!
LADY ORIANA 23 TO DULCINEA OF TOBOSO
A Sonnet
Oh, if only, beauteous Dulcinea,
for greater ease and peace I had my castle,
Miraflores, in Toboso; could change
its London for the comforts of your town!
Oh, if only your desire and your dress
adorned my soul and body, I could see
the famous knight you made so fortunate
in unequal combat with his enemies!
Oh, if only I chastely might escape
Sir Amadís, as you did Don Quixote,
that courteous and noble errant knight!
Then I’d be the envied, not the envying,
and melancholy time would turn to joy,
and I’d delight in pleasures without end.
GANDALÍN, SQUIRE TO AMADÍS OF GAUL, TO SANCHO PANZA, SQUIRE TO DON QUIXOTE
A Sonnet
Oh hail, famed man, when our good Lady Fortune
brought you to this our squirely vocation,
she carried out her plan with so much care,
that you ne’er suffered grief or dire disgrace.
Now the hoe and the scythe do not repel
knight errantry; now it is common custom
to find a simple squire, and so I denounce
the pride that sets its sights upon the moon.
I envy you your donkey and your name,
I envy you as well the saddlebags
that proved your forethought and sagacity.
Hail once again, O Sancho! So good a man,
that only you, when the Ovid of our Spain
bows to kiss your hand, smack him on the head.
FROM DONOSO, AN ECLECTIC POET, TO SANCHO PANZA AND ROCINANTE
I am the squire, Sancho Pan-,
of the Manchegan Don Quixo-;
I often turned, oft retreat-,
and lived; the better part’s discre-;
that wise man called Villadie-24
summarized his long life’s mot
in a single word: withdraw-.
That’s the view in Celesti-, 25
a book that’d be divine, I reck-,
if it embraced more of the hum-.
To Rocinante
I am famous Rocinan-,
great-grandson of Babie-,26
for the sin of being skin-
I belonged to Don Quixo-.
I ran races like a slack-
but was never late for sup-.
I learned this from Lazari-.27
to empty out the blind man’s wine-
you must use a straw: how cle-.
ORLANDO FURIOSO TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA
A Sonnet
If you are not a peer, then you’ve had none:
for you would have no peer among a thousand;
nor could there be a peer where you are found,
unconquerable conqueror, ne’er conquered.
I am Orlando who, Quixote, undone
by fair Angelica, saw distant seas,
and offered on the altars of Lady Fame
the valor that respected oblivion.
I cannot be your equal; I am humbled
by your prowess, your noble deeds, your fame,
for you, like me, have gone and lost your mind.
But my equal you will be if you defeat
the haughty Moor, the charging beast;
today we are called equal in ill-fated love.
THE KNIGHT OF PHOEBUS 28 TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA
A Sonnet
This my sword was no equal to your own,
O Spanish Phoebus, courtly paragon,
nor to your heights of valor this my hand
though it flashed where the day is born and dies.
I turned down empires, refused the monarchy
that red-lit Orient offered me in vain
so I could look upon the sovereign visage
of Claridiana, my most beauteous dawn.
I loved her by a miracle rare and strange,
and, absent in misfortune, she came to fear
this arm of mine that tamed her raging scorn.
But you, noble Quixote, high and brave,
your lady’s made you eternal in this world,
and through you she is famous, good, and wise.
FROM SOLISDÁN 29 TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA
A Sonnet
Well may it be, Quixote, that sheer folly
hath overturned thy reason and thy wit,
but ne’er wilt thou be assailed by any man
as one who hath wrought actions vile and base.
These thy great feats will judge this to be truth,
for thou, knight errant, hath righted many wrongs
and wreaked thy vengeance on a thousand varlets
for dastardly assaults and villainies.
And if thy lady-love, fair Dulcinea,
treateth thee with harsh and rigorous scorn,
and looketh not with pity on thy grief,
in such affliction let thy comfort be
that Sancho Panza wast no go-between,
a fool he, she of stone, and thou no lover.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN BABIECA AND ROCINANTE
A Sonnet
B. Why is it, Rocinante, that you’re so thin?
R. Too little food, and far too much hard labor.
B. But what about your feed, your oats and hay?
R. My master doesn’t leave a bite for me.
B. Well, Señor, your lack of breeding shows
because your ass’s tongue insults your master.
R. He’s the ass, from the cradle to the grave.
Do you want proof? See what he does for love.
B. Is it foolish to love? R. It’s not too smart.
B. You’re a philosopher. R. I just don’t eat.
B. And do you complain of the squire? R. Not enough.
How can I complain despite my aches and pains
if master and squire, or is it majordomo,
are nothing but skin and bone, like Rocinante?