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Where on Salamanca's ramparts
Airs blow soft and sweet from Heaven,
I and my beloved Donna
Stroll on many a summer even.
Round the beauty's waist so slender
Gently now my arm is stealing,
And her bosom's haughty swelling
My too happy hand is feeling.
Natheless an anxious whisper
Flutters through the lindens shady,
And the mill-stream, dark below us,
Mutters gloomy dreams, sweet lady.
Ah, Senora, drear foreboding
Tells we must be rent asunder,
And on Salamanca's ramparts
Nevermore shall we two wander.
Airs blow soft and sweet from Heaven,
I and my beloved Donna
Stroll on many a summer even.
Round the beauty's waist so slender
Gently now my arm is stealing,
And her bosom's haughty swelling
My too happy hand is feeling.
Natheless an anxious whisper
Flutters through the lindens shady,
And the mill-stream, dark below us,
Mutters gloomy dreams, sweet lady.
Ah, Senora, drear foreboding
Tells we must be rent asunder,
And on Salamanca's ramparts
Nevermore shall we two wander.
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