Dancing in Andalusia

Castanets, shawl and rose. The power of dance in this garden cafe…
Evening of passion, three times red Andalusia…

In hundreds of tongues, the magic song of love.
In castanets this evening, Spain, with all its joy.

As if flourishing a fan, suddenly she turns,
Coquettishly flings, scatters, covers…

Now, no colour but red our eyes desire;
In waves of movement, Spain this evening in this shawl.

Framing her brow, her sensual fringe,
On her breast, the prettiest rose of coquettish Granada…

A golden glass in every hand, sun in every heart;
This evening Spain lives in this rose.

In the dance, she pauses, she struts;
Tosses her head, glowers…

Rose coloured skin, ember lips, tinged with kohl, black eyes…
The devil says, embrace her, kiss a hundred times…

To dazzling shawl, to captivating rose,
To castanets that fill every heart, from every soul: “Ole!”

Yahya Kem Beyatlı (1884-1958). Endülüs’te Raks. Translated from the English.

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