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Granada, I'm falling under your spell, |
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And if you could speak, what a fascinating tale you would tell. |
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Of an age the world has long forgotten. |
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Of an age that weaves a silent magic in Granada today. |
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The dawn in the sky greets the day with a sigh for Granada, |
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For she can remember the splendor that once was Granada. |
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It still can be found in the hills all around as I wanderr along. |
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Entranced by the beauty before me, |
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Entranced by a land full of sunshine and flowers and song. |
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And when day is done and the sun starts to set in Granada, |
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I envy the blush of the snow-clad Sierra Nevada. |
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For soon it will welcome the stars while a thousand guitars, |
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Play a soft habanera. |
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Then moonlit Granada will live again the glory of yesterday, |
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Romantic and gay. |
