Memory

Midnight in the gardens of the Alhambra, the red castle. The wandering wind makes me believe in love. Under the rippling spout of the fountains, under the yoke of petrified marble... Eyes closed, hands stretchout: I'm sleepwalking with your perfume. Lullaby, jasmine song, take me in your arms my orange blossom. How dark is the wood of your guitars. They cry in the moonlight. How dark is their hair, your gypsies. Their skirts make my heart spin. Granada, I dream of your warm nights. In the heart of the romantic Nasrid palace, from the top of the impregnable Alcabeza citadel, my desire is unceasingly lurking. Listen to my voice calling you. Granada, tonight I will be faithful to you. Your sky is above my land, my only light.