Por eso mereces, Rey, Ay de mi, Alhama! Si no se respetan leyes, Ay de mi, Alhama! Fuego por los ojos vierte, El Rey que esto oyera, Ay de mi, Alhama! Sabe un Rey que no hay leyes De darle á Reyes disgusto.Eso dice el Rey moro Relinchando de cólera. Ay de mi, Alhama! Moro Alfaqui, Moro Alfaqui, Ay de mi, Alhama! Y cortarte la cabeza, Y ponerla en el Alhambra, Caballeros, hombres buenos, Ay de mi, Alhama! De aberse Alhama perdido Perdieran hijos padres, Ay de mi, Alhama! Perdi una hija doncella Ay de mi, Alhama! Diciendo asi al hacen Alfaqui, "And for this, oh king! is sent Thee and thine, thy crown and realm, Woe is me, Alhama! "He who holds no laws in awe, Woe is me, Alhama! Fire flash'd from out the old Moor's eyes, "There is no law to say such things Moor Alfaqui! Moor Alfaqui! Woe is me, Alhama! And to fix thy head upon High Alhambra's loftiest stone; "Cavalier! and man of worth! Woe is me, Alhama! "But on my soul Alhama weighs, "Sires have lost their children, wives "I lost a damsel in that hour, And as these things the old Moor said, 71 Hombres, ninos y mugeres, Por las calles y ventanas And men and infants therein weep Their loss, so heavy and so deep; Granada's ladies, all she rears Within her walls, burst into tears. Woe is me, Alhama! And from the windows o'er the walls The sable web of mourning falls! The king weeps as a woman o'er His loss, for it is much and sore. Woe is me, Alhama! SONETTO DI VITTORELLI. PER MONACA. Bonetto composto in nome di un genitore, a cui era morta poco innanzi una figlia appena maritata; e diretto al genitore della sacra sposa. Di due vaghe donzelle, oneste, accorte La mia fu tolta da veloce morte La tua, Francesco, in sugellate porte Corro a quel marmo in cui la figlia or posa, TRANSLATION FROM VITTORELLI. ON A NUN. Sonnet composed in the name of a father, whose daughte had recently died shortly after her marriage; and addressed to the father of her who had lately taken the veil. Or two fair virgins, modest though admired, STANZAS, WRITTEN IN PASSING THE AMBRACIAN GULF, THROUGH cloudless skies, in silvery sheen, And now upon the scene I look, Florence! whom I will love as well Sweet Florence! those were pleasant times, Though Fate forbids such things to be, STANZAS, Composed October 11th, 1809, during the night, in a thunder storm, when the guides had lost the road to Zitza, near range of mountains formerly called Pindus, in Albania CHILL and mirk is the nightly blast, Our guides are gone, our hope is lost, Is yon a cot I saw, though low? When lightning broke the gloomHow welcome were its shade!-ah! no "T is but a Turkish tomb. Through sounds of foaming water-falls, I hear a voice exclainıー My way-worn countryman, who calls A shot is fired-by foe or friend? The mountain peasants to descend, Oh! who in such a night will dare To tempt the wilderness? And who 'mid thunder-peals can hear Our signal of distress! And who that heard our shouts would rise To try the dubious road? Clouds burst, skies flash, oh, dreadful hour! While wandering through each broken path, Not on the sea, not on the sea,- Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now Do thou amidst the fair white walls, At times from out her latticed halls Then think upon Calypso's isles, And when the admiring circle mark Again thou 'lt smile, and blushing shun Though smile and sigh alike are vain, ΤΟ *** Он Lady! when I left the shore, The distant shore which gave me birth, I hardly thought to grieve once more, To quit another spot on earth: Yet here, amidst this barren isle, Where panting nature droops the head, Where only thou art seen to smile, I view my parting hour with dread. Though far from Albin's craggy shore, Divided by the dark-blue main; A few, brief, rolling seasons o'er, Perchance I view her cliffs again: But wheresoe'er I now may roam, Through scorching clime and varied sea, Though time restore me to my home, I ne'er shall bend mine eyes on thee: On thee, in whom at once conspire All charms which heedless hearts can move, Whom but to see is to admire, And, oh! forgive the word to love. Forgive the word, in one who ne'er With such a word can more offend; And since thy heart I cannot share, Believe me, what I am, thy friend. And who so cold as look on thee, Thou lovely wanderer, and be less ? Nor be, what man should ever be, The friend of beauty in distress? The Turkish tyrants now enclose; "T will soothe to be where thou hast been. September, 1809. WRITTEN AT ATHENS, THE spell is broke, the charm is flown! Each lucid interval of thought Recalls the woes of Nature's charter, And he that acts as wise men ought, But lives, as saints have died, a martyr. WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE. Dear object of defeated care! Though now of love and thee bereft, To reconcile me with despair Thine image and my tears are left. 'Tis said with sorrow time can cope; But this, I feel, can ne'er be true: For by the death-blow of my hope, My memory immortal grew. WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS Ir, in the month of dark December, Sad mortals! thus the gods still plague you! For he was drown'd, and I've the ague. Ζώη μοῦ, σὰς ἀγαπῶ. MAID of Athens, ere we part, 1 On the 3d of May, 1810, while the Salsette (Captain Bathurst) was lying in the Dardanelles, Lieutenant Ekenhead of that frigate and the writer of these rhymes swam from the European shore to the Asiatic-by-the-by, from Abydos to Sestos would have been more correct. The whole distance from the place whence we started to our landing on the other side, including the length we were carried by the current, was computed by those on board the frigate at upwards of four Engfish miles; though the actual breadth is barely one. The rapidity of the current is such that no boat can row directly across, and it may in some measure be estimated from the cir cumstance of the whole distance being accomplished by one of the parties in an hour and five, and by the other in an hour and ten minutes. The water was extremely cold, from the melting of the mountain-snows. About three weeks before, in Aprid, we had made an attempt, but having ridden all the way from the Troad the same morning, and the water being of an icy chillness, we found it necessary to postpone the completion till the frigate anchored below the castles, when we swam the straits, as just stated, entering a considerable way above the European, and landing below the Asiatic fort. Chevalier says that a young Jew swam the same distance for bus mistress; and Oliver mentions its having been done by a Neapolitan; but our consul, Tarragona, remembered neither of these circumstances, and tried to dissuade us from the attempt. A number of the Salsette's crew were known to have accomplished a greater distance; and the only thing that surprised me was, that, as doubts had been entertained of the truth of Leander's story, no traveller had ever endeavoured to ascertain its practicability. 2 Zoe mou, sas agapo, or Ζώη μοῦ, σὰς ἀγαπῶ, a Romaic expression of tenderness: if I translate it I shall affront the gentlemen, as it may seem that I supposed they could not; and if I do not, I may affront the ladies. For fear of any misconstruction on the part of the latter, I shall do so, begging pardon of the learned. It means. "My life, I love you!" which sounds very prettily in all languages, and is as much in fashion in Greece at this day as, Juvenal tells us, the two first words were amongst the Roman ladies, whose erotic expressions were ail Hellenized. By those tresses unconfined, By that lip I long to taste; Maid of Athens! I am gone: TRANSLATION OF THE FAMOUS GREEK WAR-SONG, Δεῦτε παῖδες τῶν Ἑλλήνων, Written by Riga, who perished in the attempt to revolutionis Greece. The following translation is as literal as the autho could make it in verse; it is of the same measure as thato the original. SONS of the Greeks, arise! The glorious hour's gone forth, And, worthy of such ties, CHORUS. Sons of Greeks, let us go Then manfully despising And all her chains are broke. At the sound of my trumpet, breaking Sons of Greeks, etc. Sparta, Sparta, why in slumbers Lethargic dost thou lie ? Awake, and join thy numbers With Athens, old ally! 1 In the East (where ladies are not taught to write, lest ther should scribble assignations) flowers, cinders, pebbles, etc. convey the sentiments of the parties by that universal deputy of Mercury-an old woman. A cinder says, "I burn for thee" a bunch of flowers tied with hair, "Take me and fly; but pebble declares-what nothing else can. 2 Constantinople. 3 Constantinople. " Επταλοφος." Leonidas recalling, That chief of ancient song, Who saved ye once from falling, The terrible, the strong! Who made that bold diversion In old Thermopylæ, And warring with the Persian To keep his country free; With his three hundred waging The battle, long he stood, And, like a lion raging, Expired in seas of blood. Sons of Greeks, etc. TRANSLATION OF THE ROMAIC SONG, “ Μπενω μες 'τσ' πέριβολι The song from which this is taken is a great favourite with the young girls of Athens of all classes. Their manner of singing it is by verses in rotation, the whole number present joining in the chorus. I have heard it frequently at our “χόροι" in the winter of 1810-11. The air is plaintive and pretty. I ENTER thy garden of roses, For surely I see her in thee. Yet trembles for what it has sung: But the loveliest garden grows hateful, My heart from these horrors to save : By pangs which a smile would dispel? Now sad is the garden of roses, And mourns o'er thine absence with me. ON PARTING. CHE kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left, Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, The tear that from thine eyelid streams I ask no pledge to make me blest, Nor need I write-to tell the tale By day or night, in weal or woe, TO THYRZA. WITHOUT a stone to mark the spot, To bid us meet-no-ne'er again! That love each warmer wish forbore |