THE city rumour rises all the day Across the potted plants along the wall; The sun and winds upon the slopes hold sway, Tossing the dust and shadows in a squall. The sun is old and weary—weary here Upon the ageing roofs and miradors, The broken terraces and basins drear Where each old bell its ancient echoes pours. Ringing—what memories to ring—to those That linger here—the lizard and the cat, That haunt these solitudes in state morose Through the long day their silent habitat. Untroubled,—save when in the moonlight steals Some voice in song across the lower wall, And sudden magic each old rafter feels, The while the echoes round it rise and fall. For as the wail of love or sorrow rings Along the night soft steps are on the stair And pathway; in the broken window wings Are stirring, and white arms are lolling there. And that old rose tree lifts its head anew, And there is perfume o'er the hills afar, From where Alhambra's crescent cleaves the blue To where agleam Genil and Darro are. O Voice!—what is thy necromantic word That all Granada waits adown the years? Is it the sound some love-swept night has heard?— The cry of love amid the cry of tears?— @3For José Maria Restrepo Millán.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 4 by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE CHILD by HAYDEN CARRUTH ODE TO THE BROWN PAPER BAG by JAMES GALVIN THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF STERLING AND SARAH LANIER by SIDNEY LANIER SENRYU: BLIND DATE by TIMOTHY LIU THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR |