A Tus Ojos
1.
Lady, whence come those ebon eyes of thine,
Black as the coal where sleeps the living flame,
Which steadfast gaze upon me through thy smile?
2.
Nothing thou answerest: but methinks it is
The Andalusian blood which shapes those orbs,
By that fair ancestress of thine bequeathed.
3.
Nothing thou answerest: but methinks it is
The Andalusian blood which thus doth flower,
E'en on this distant California shore.
4.
And Carmen's music echoes through my brain —
The Toreador's song — and in my dream we stroll
Together 'mongst the men and maids of Spain.
Lady, whence come those ebon eyes of thine,
Black as the coal where sleeps the living flame,
Which steadfast gaze upon me through thy smile?
2.
Nothing thou answerest: but methinks it is
The Andalusian blood which shapes those orbs,
By that fair ancestress of thine bequeathed.
3.
Nothing thou answerest: but methinks it is
The Andalusian blood which thus doth flower,
E'en on this distant California shore.
4.
And Carmen's music echoes through my brain —
The Toreador's song — and in my dream we stroll
Together 'mongst the men and maids of Spain.
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