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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
El Ultimo Suspiro Del Moro
The last sigh of the Moor, King Boabdil, As he flees the triumphant Ferdinand, Echoes round slopes of a mist-shrouded hill. He looks back for the last time at the land That he once ruled. `Weep as a woman will,’ His mother jeers behind her jewelled hand, `For what you would not defend as a man!’ He stares northwards as long as he can, Marvelling at the distant snow-capped hills Gently cradling the Alhambra’s walls, Its towers, placid ponds, and sparkling rills, Treasuring them. Later, when he recalls This scene, he deems its loss the worst of ills That ever befell him, and, saddened, falls To yearning for water from those mountains And the Generalife’s dancing fountains. A tale as romantic as any told - This Moorish palace of earthly pleasure, Its red stone, now mellowed to pink and gold, Is a wonder of the world to treasure. Like Boabdil, I want to hoard and hold Its magical light, and, for good measure, The sound of Granada’s gurgling streams In my mind to recall in pleasant dreams.
Copyright © 2025 Alexander Blackie. All Rights Reserved

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry