Leave me in Granada in the middle of paradise where my soul wells with poetry;
Leave me until my time comes and I may intone a fitting song.
Yes, I want my memorial stone in this land.
Granada! Holy place of the glory of Spain,
Your mountains are the white tents of pavilions,
Your walls are the circle of a vase of flowers,
Your plain a Moorish shawl embroidered with colour,
Your towers are palm trees that imprison you
Clamé al cielo, y no me oyó.
Mas, si sus puertas me cierra,
de mis pasos en la Tierra
responda el cielo, no yo.
Stichwörter: don-juan teatro don-juan-tenorio josé-zorrilla zorilla
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