Upon the loftiest mountain height
That rises in its pride,
And sees its summits mirrored
In Tagus' crystal tide,
The banished Abenamar,
Bound by a captive chain,
Looks on the high-road to Madrid
That seams the dusty plain.
He measures, with his pining eyes,
The stretching hills that stand
Between his place of banishment
And his sweet native land.
His sighs and tears of sorrow
No longer bear restraint,
And thus in words of anguish
He utters his complaint:
"Oh, dismal is the exile
That wrings the heart with woes
And locks the lips in silence,
Amid unfeeling foes.
O road of high adventure,
That leadest many a band
To yon ungrateful country where
My native turrets stand,
The country that my valor
Did oft with glory crown,
The land that lets me languish here,
Who won for her renown.
Thou who hast succored many a knight,
Hast thou no help for me,
Who languish on Toledo's height
In captive misery?
'Tis on thy world-wide chivalry
I base my word of blame,
'Tis that I love thee most of all,
Thy coldness brings me shame.
Oh, dismal is the exile,
That wrings my heart with woes,
And locks my lips in silence
Among unfeeling foes.
The warden of fierce Reduan
With cruelty more deep
That that of a hidalgo,
Has locked this prison keep;
And on this frontier set me,
To pine without repose,
To watch, from dawn to sunset,
Over his Christian foes.
Here like a watch-tower am I set
For Santiago's lord,
And for a royal mistress
Who breaks her plighted word.
And when I cry with anguish
And seek in song relief,
With threats my life is threatened,
Till silence cloak my grief.
Oh, dismal is the exile,
That wrings my heart with woes,
And locks my lips in silence
Among unfeeling foes.
And when I stand in silence,
Me dumb my jailers deem,
And if I speak, in gentle words,
They say that I blaspheme.
Thus grievously perverting
The sense of all I say,
Upon my lips the raging crowd
The gag of silence lay.
Thus heaping wrong on wrong my foes
Their prisoner impeach,
Until the outrage of my heart
Deprives my tongue of speech.
And while my word the passion
Of my sad heart betrays,
My foes are all unconscious
Of what my silence says.
Now God confound the evil judge
Who caused my misery,
And had no heart of pity
To soften his decree.
Oh, dismal is the exile,
That wrings my heart with woes,
And locks my lips in silence
Among unfeeling foes.