Wherever Abderahman appeared, he was received with rapturous acclamations.
As he rode through the cities, the populace rent the air with shouts of
joy; the stately palaces were crowded with spectators, eager to gain a
sight of his graceful form and beaming countenance; and when they beheld
the mingled majesty and benignity of their new monarch, and the sweetness
and gentleness of his whole conduct, they extolled him as something more
than mortal; as a beneficent genius, sent for the happiness of Spain.
In the interval of peace which now succeeded, Abderahman occupied himself
in promoting the useful and elegant arts, and in introducing into Spain the
refinements of the East. Considering the building and ornamenting of cities
as among the noblest employments of the tranquil hours of princes, he
bestowed great pains upon beautifying the city of Cordova and its environs.
He reconstructed banks and dikes, to keep the Guadalquivir from overflowing
its borders, and on the vast terraces thus formed he planted delightful
gardens. In the midst of these, he erected a lofty tower, commanding a view
of the vast and fruitful valley, enlivened by the windings of the river. In
this tower he would pass hours of meditation, gazing on the soft and varied
landscape, and inhaling the bland and balmy airs of that delightful region.
At such times, his thoughts would recur to the past, and the misfortunes of
his youth; the massacre of his family would rise to view, mingled with
tender recollections of his native country, from which he was exiled. In
these melancholy musings he would sit with his eyes fixed upon a palm-tree
which he had planted in the midst of his garden. It is said to have been
the first ever planted in Spain, and to have been the parent stock of all
the palm-trees which grace the southern provinces of the peninsula. The
heart of Abderahman yearned toward this tree; it was the offspring of his
native country, and, like him, an exile. In one of his moods of tenderness,
he composed verses upon it, which have since become famous throughout the
world. The following is a rude but literal translation:
"Beauteous Palm! thou also wert hither brought a stranger; but thy roots
have found a kindly soil, thy head is lifted to the skies, and the sweet
airs of Algarve fondle and kiss thy branches.
"Thou hast known, like me, the storms of adverse fortune. Bitter tears
wouldst thou shed, couldst thou feel my woes. Repeated griefs have
overwhelmed me. With early tears I bedewed the palms on the banks of the
Euphrates; but neither tree nor river heeded my sorrows, when driven by
cruel fate, and the ferocious Aboul Abbas, from the scenes of my childhood
and the sweet objects of my affection.
"To thee no remembrance remains of my beloved country; I, unhappy! can
never recall it without tears."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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