Best Cordoba Poems

Un día voy a ir a ti, Córdoba
pasearé por las antiguas calles empedradas
y escucharé los ecos de hace muchos siglos,
de cuando los musulmanes gobernaron ...

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the sun overhead is noticably upset. 

the sun is late in the evening raging 
 through its galitic colisack.

 round and round it goes.

 the...

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Excerpts from "Cordoba"
by Allama Iqbal
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Withered Roses
by Allama Iqbal
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What shall I call you,
but the nightingale's desire?

The...

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One day I will go to Cordoba
Walk along the old cobbled streets
And hear the echoes
From many centuries ago
When the Muslims ruled Iberia
I will see the...

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Big giant thanks to Dr. Cordoba,

Who attended career day in Robe-A,

Went to school in the  east,

Hypnotherapist beast.

We are licensed, Me and Dr. Cordo...

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Iberia, you took my breath away
with fiery gypsy spirit and romance;
with ancient Moorish history and grace;
with everything there is of you to see;
to hear and...

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There is a place so beautiful I'd love to see again.
My dream vacation started in Madrid, in central Spain.
How I long to stroll again down...

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The clocks upon the wall are stopped,
they haven’t worked for years.
It could be any time in Tokyo, 
in London, Paris or New York.

It’s late, and...

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(In December 1936, English poet John Cornford
was killed in combat near Lopera, during the 
Spanish Civil War.  It was the day after his
twenty-first birthday....

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Massed crowds of all creeds jostle to enter

Inside cool air and dim light calms the soul

Eyes gaze around this spiritual centre

Built form and faith symbols...

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They argued about the ruble, the kyat, the gold cordoba too
More conversation about lira, Swiss franc, and Moldova Leu.
Discussion soon turned to the rupee, new...

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You in the distance
you in the ever present
you in my fantasy 
you my reality
you the bare water nymph of El Raso
the statuesque beauty
you of a...

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Lorca Translations II

Canción del jinete (“Song of the Rider”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
translation by Michael R. Burch

Cordoba. Distant and lone.
Black pony, big moon,
olives in my saddlebag.
Although...

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Cordoba doesn't come to terms. 
This is a town still Arabic, 
savage, suffocating,
its sluggish river absorbing 
the cruel heat, not dispelling it. 
All is light...

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We drive breakneck over hot roads.
Churches, big as cathedrals, rocket
from pocket villages.
Castillo's cast their campanile on the baking earth.

The Great Mosque of Cordoba,
the green Alhambra...

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