Unto their country of Salee,
But neither Moor nor Mussulman
Would give a silver groat for me.
'T was only a false Jewish dog,
Who wished to have me for his slave,
He made my life a bitter pain,
And beat me like a scurvy knave.
All day I wove esparto grass,
At night I turned the hard corn mill,
A wooden gag between my jaws