The moon glides softly on you tonight,
The stars hazily dot the Spanish sky,
For this your kingdom’s fading twilight
As the Reconquista is drawing nigh,
Now el Léon is set to pounce upon
Your song birds in their lavish gardens
And though your luster has now gone
There is still some pale light left to shed;
O! once you held the very heart of Spain
As you composed your rich romantic songs
But Cordoba, Zaragoza, all did wane
And you stood alone to face the coming throng
But gently still I hear your sad voice call
In the calm winds of Alhambra’s vacant halls

May 25, 2003

This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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