Fatima And Raduan (from The Spanish) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB CCAABBDD EEFFGGDD HHIIJKDD KKLLMMDD| Diamante falso y fingido | A |
| Engastado en pedernal amp c | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| False diamond set in flint the caverns of the mine | C |
| Are warmer than the breast that holds that faithless heart of thine | C |
| Thou art fickle as the sea thou art wandering as the wind | A |
| And the restless ever mounting flame is not more hard to bind | A |
| If the tears I shed were tongues yet all too few would be | B |
| To tell of all the treachery that thou hast shown to me | B |
| Oh I could chide thee sharply but every maiden knows | D |
| That she who chides her lover forgives him ere he goes | D |
| - | |
| Thou hast called me oft the flower of all Grenada's maids | E |
| Thou hast said that by the side of me the first and fairest fades | E |
| And they thought thy heart was mine and it seemed to every one | F |
| That what thou didst to win my love from love of me was done | F |
| Alas if they but knew thee as mine it is to know | G |
| They well might see another mark to which thine arrows go | G |
| But thou giv'st me little heed for I speak to one who knows | D |
| That she who chides her lover forgives him ere he goes | D |
| - | |
| It wearies me mine enemy that I must weep and bear | H |
| What fills thy heart with triumph and fills my own with care | H |
| Thou art leagued with those that hate me and ah thou know'st I feel | I |
| That cruel words as surely kill as sharpest blades of steel | I |
| 'Twas the doubt that thou wert false that wrung my heart with pain | J |
| But now I know thy perfidy I shall be well again | K |
| I would proclaim thee as thou art but every maiden knows | D |
| That she who chides her lover forgives him ere he goes | D |
| - | |
| Thus Fatima complained to the valiant Raduan | K |
| Where underneath the myrtles Alhambra's fountains ran | K |
| The Moor was inly moved and blameless as he was | L |
| He took her white hand in his own and pleaded thus his cause | L |
| Oh lady dry those star like eyes their dimness does me wrong | M |
| If my heart be made of flint at least 'twill keep thy image long | M |
| Thou hast uttered cruel words but I grieve the less for those | D |
| Since she who chides her lover forgives him ere he goes | D |
William Cullen Bryant
(1)
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