Inside the lions’ courtyard, shadows recite geometry. The moon, that old Christian spy, climbs the tiles and turns them into prayer rugs.
The fountain does not ask time for permission. It keeps pouring its silver language over stones that once held the hem of sultanas. memorias de la alhambra
Here’s a short poetic piece inspired by Memorias de la Alhambra (the famous tremolo guitar piece by Francisco Tárrega, evoking the Moorish palace in Granada): Inside the lions’ courtyard, shadows recite geometry
I walk where the myrtle holds its breath. Each arch, a drowsy eyelid; each column, a forgotten verse from the Quran. Inside the lions’ courtyard
No sultan remains, only the echo of a fountain learning to mourn in slow arpeggios.