A Revelation of Julia de Burgos

Julia de Burgos, the enigmatic poetess, whose verses resound in the hearts of many. Rumors circulate, claiming that I am your adversary, as they falsely believe that my poetry speaks for your existence. But they are mistaken, Julia de Burgos. They are mistaken. The voice that soars through my verses is not yours, but mine. You merely serve as a veil, while I embody the very essence of truth. A profound abyss stretches between us.

You are the fabricated doll of social pretense, while I am a vibrant embodiment of human authenticity. You are the honey of hypocritical courtesies, whereas I lay my heart bare in every poetic creation. Your world is one of selfishness, while I, in every aspect of my life, play the hand I am dealt as my true self. You are confined by the expectations of your husband, your parents, your relatives, the priest, the fashion designer, the theater, the casino, the car, the jewelry, the banquet, the champagne, the heavens, the underworld, and the scrutiny of society. But not me. In me, my solitary heart and my independent thoughts reign supreme. I am the sole ruler of my own existence.

You meticulously curl your hair and paint your face, while I let the wind ruffle my locks and the sun paint my canvas. You are the dutiful lady, resigned and submissive, bound by the prejudices of men. I, on the other hand, am like a wild steed, galloping fearlessly, searching for the horizons of justice and divine intervention.

When the masses run fervently, leaving behind ashes of burned injustices, and when the torch of virtue leads the way, unveiling the sins, I will be in their midst, brandishing my own torch. Against you and all that is unjust and inhumane, I will stride forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with the crowds.

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You, the epitome of aristocracy, and I, the embodiment of the common people. You possess everything within you, indebted to others, while I owe nothing to anyone. You are chained to the static dividend of ancestral tradition, while I am the indivisible unit in the quotient of social division. We are destined for a fateful clash, a duel to the death.

When the masses rush forward in tumult, leaving behind the ashes of burned injustices, and when, armed with the torch of virtue, they chase after the seven deadly sins, I will be there, amidst them, holding the torch high.

English Translation:
To Julia de Burgos by Julia de Burgos

These words, so elegantly translated by Jamie Bernstein, convey the essence of Julia de Burgos, a timeless poet whose voice continues to resonate.