And flow with dimpling torrent o'er mead and garden wide,
If e'er the tears that from my breast to these sad eyes ascend
Should with your happy waters their floods of sadness blend,
Oh, take them to your bosom with love, for love has bidden
These drops to tell the wasting woe that in my heart is hidden.
I see thee shining from afar,
As in heaven's arch some radiant star.
Granada, queen and crown of loveliness,
Listen to my lament, and mourn for my distress.
"Ye balmy winds of heaven, whose sound is in the rippling trees,