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ROMANCE MUY DOLOROSO

DEL

SITIO Y TOMA DE ALHAMA.

The effect of the original Ballad (which existed both in Spanish and Arabic) was such that it was forbidden to be sung by the Moors, on pain of death, within Granada.

ROMANCE MUY DOLOROSO

DEL

SITIO Y TOMA DE ALHAMA, EL QUAL DEZIA EN ARAVIGO ASSI.

1.

PASSEAVASE el Rey Moro

Por la ciudad de Granada,
Desde las puertas de Elvira

Hasta las de Bivarambla.

Ay de mi, Alhama!

2.

Cartas le fueron venidas

Que Alhama era ganada.

Las cartas echò en el fuego,

Y al mensagero matava.

Ay de mi, Alhama!

3.

Descavalga de una mula,
Y en un cavallo cavalga.
Por el Zacatin arriba

Subido se avia al Alhambra.

Ay de mi, Alhama!

A VERY MOURNFUL BALLAD

ON THE

SIEGE AND CONQUEST OF ALHAMA,

Which, in the Arabic language, is to the following purport.

1.

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!

2.

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!

3.

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!

4.

Como en el Alhambra estuvo,
Al mismo punto mandava
Que se toquen las trompetas

Con anafiles de plata.

Ay de mi, Alhama!

5.

Y que atambores de guerra
Apriessa toquen alarma;
Por que lo oygan sus Moros,
Los de la Vega y Granada.

Ay de mi, Alhama!

6.

Los Moros que el son oyeron,
Que al sangriento Marte llama,
Uno a uno, y dos a dos,

Un gran esquadron formavan.

Ay de mi, Alhama!

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4.

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!

5.

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 !

6.

Then the Moors by this aware

That bloody Mars recalled them there,

One by one, and two by two,

To a mighty squadron grew.

Woe is me, Alhama!

7.

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!

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