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Updated: June 28, 2025
'Mong those who from Alhambra's towers gazed on that warrior train, There were two Moorish ladies there whom love had smitten sore; Zarifa one, and Fatima the name the other bore. Knit by warm friendship were their hearts till, filled with jealous pain, Their glances met, as one fair knight came prancing o'er the plain. Zarifa spoke to Fatima, "How has love marred thy face!
"It is not love, Zarifa, that robs my cheek of rose; No fond and anxious passion this mournful bosom knows; My cheeks are pale and I am still and silent, it is true, For, ah! I miss my father's face, whom fierce Alabey slew. And did I crave the boon of love, a thousand knights were fain To fight for me in service true on yonder flowery plain. And all the love I give to each to give me back again.
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