Thursday, April 28, 2011

Romance del Rey Moro que Perdio Alhama

Romance del Rey Moro que Perdio Alhama

Ay de mi Alhama!


The Moorish King rides up and down
Through Granada’s royal town;
From Elvira’s gates to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama !

Letters to the monarch tell
How Alhama’s city fell;
In the fire the scroll he threw,
And the messenger he slew.
Woe is me, Alhama !

He quits his mule, and mounts his horse,
And through the street directs his course;
Through the street of Zacatin
To the Alhambra spurring in.
Woe is me, Alhama !

When the Alhambra walls he gain’d,
On the moment he ordain’d
That the trumpet straight should sound
With the silver clarion round.
Woe is me, Alhama !

And when the hollow drums of war
Beat the loud alarm afar,
That the Moors of town and plain
Might answer to the martial strain,
Woe is me, Alhama !

Then the Moors, by this aware
That bloody Mars recall’d them there,
One by one, and two by two,
To a mighty squadron grew.
Woe is me, Alhama !

Out then spake an aged Moor
In these words the king before:
“Wherefore call on us, oh King?
What may mean this gathering?”
Woe is me, Alhama !

“Friends!  Ye have, alas!  To know
Of a most disastrous blow,
That the Christians, stern and bold,
Have obtain’d Alhama’s hold.”
Woe is me, Alhama !

Out then spake old Alfaqui,
With his beard so white to see,
“Good King, thou are justly served,
Good King, this thou hast deserved.
Woe is me, Alhama !

“By thee were slain, in evil hour,
The Abecerrage, Granada’s flower;
And strangers were received by thee
Of Cordova the chivalry.
Woe is me, Alhama !

“And for this, oh King ! Is sent
On thee a double chastisement,
Thee and thine, thy crown and realm,
One last wreck shall overwhelm,
Woe is me, Alhama !