A paladin, heartstrong and brave,
Fell into Miramolin's hands,
To serve him as a captive slave.
The Moorish king a daughter had,
More white and fair than jasmine flower.
Her eyes with sparkling light were glad,
And youth and bloom her beauty's dower.
To Safim as she looked one day
Celima saw the captive knight,
With pensive gaze turned far away,