Recollection of the Alhambra

He came down from the throne of the crescent moon
with the key to the paradise his ancestors gardened
for eight hundred years of harmony in Saracen haven
to the hands of the pious proud king and queen posing
to accept it as the Christian champions emboldened
by the surrender of the ruler of the Iberian paradise; 

Yesterdays, yesteryears, and to the last of the time
crept upon the waters of the palatial fountains thence
and began to fill the heart of the sultan of the palace
whose eyes billowed streams of nostalgia’s longings
on his hallow cheeks and to the back of his horse
together, leaving the fortress of a thousand memories; 

And Fate, whose wings did he fly? Now, all’s bygone-
Those melodies of sweet sojourns beneath visting suns
in the neverending abundance of warmth and mirth-
when every regret, every sorrow turned back his looks, 
Every look shed tears in the shadow of the evening sun,
lingering in the recollection of the Alhambra Palace.