Flashes of Granada

Granada is a city I will never forget. Granada is the Spanish word for ¨pomegranate¨, and like the luscious fruit itself this Andalucian treasure is healthy, delicious food for the soul.

The first site we visited was Lalhambra, (¨the red palace¨ in Arabic), most succinctly described as Andalucia´s answer to Versailles. But while Versailles boasts beauty by way of grandiose expanse, Lalhambra offers majesty and sensory seduction.


Built 700 years ago by the culturally and technologically sophisticated Moors, the Alhambra (Lalhambra is how the Spaniards say it) is truly best experienced using all five senses. Well, the lemon trees were off-limits to tourists -- so I didn´t get to taste anything. But you get the point. By the midpoint of the tour I had shed my shoes and socks, eagerly soaking up sensations with all four limbs.




Every now and then we would come upon a fountain. The agua fresco -- cool, fresh water -- provided an oasis for the senses.



The courtyard shown above was, as it appears, the very picture of serenity. The great thing about the place was that it had a few areas such as this which were cordoned off from visitors, visible only from windows. One can imagine how crowds of tourists would sully this virgin view.



On a wall near the entrance of Lalhambra was mounted una poema by Jorge Luis Borges, which he wrote in 1976 -- entitled, Alhambra:

Grata la voz del agua
A quien abrumaron negras arenas
Grato a la mano concava
El mármol circular de la columna
Gratos los finos laberintos del agua
Entre los limoneros
Grata la música del zéjel
Grato el amor y grata la plegaria
Dirigida a un dios que esta solo
Grato el jazmín.

Vano el alfanje
Ante las largas lanzas de los muchos
Vano ser el mejor
Grato sentir o presentir, rey doliente
Que tus dulzuras son adioses
Que tu será negada la llave
Que la cruz del infiel borrara la luna
Que la tarde que miras es la última.


Pleasant is the voice of water
To he who was overwhelmed by dark sands
Pleasant to the cupped hand
The circular marble of the column
Pleasant are the subtle mazes of the water
Between the lemon trees
Pleasant is the music of the zéjel
Pleasant is love and prayer
Directed toward a god that is alone
Pleasant is jasmine.

Vain is the sword
Before the long spears of the multitudes
In vain to overcome
Pleasant to feel or to realize, mourning king
That your joys are goodbyes
That the key will be denied you
That the cross of the infidel will erase the moon
That the evening you see is your last.