A sonnet by Luis de Góngora y Argote (1561–1627), one of the great poets of the Spanish Golden Age and a native of Córdoba. The city places this poem on several buildings as a kind of literary homage:
¡Oh excelso muro, oh torres coronadas
de honor, de majestad, de gallardía!
¡Oh gran río, gran rey de Andalucía,
de arenas nobles, ya que no doradas!
¡Oh fértil llano, oh sierras levantadas
que privilegia el cielo y dora el día!
¡Oh siempre gloriosa patria mía,
tanto por plumas cuanto por espadas!
Si entre aquellos despojos y ruinas
que ennoblece el genio y dora el Baena,
tu memoria no fue alimento mío,
nunca merezcan mis ausentes ojos
ver tu muro, tus torres y tu río,
tu llano y sierra, ¡oh patria, oh flor de España!
Meaning
Góngora is lavishly praising Córdoba:
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its walls and towers (Roman and medieval legacy),
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the Guadalquivir River (“great river, great king of Andalusia”),
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the fertile plains and surrounding sierras,
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and Córdoba’s glory in culture and warfare (“by pens as much as by swords”).
Here is a literal translation – well, in the style of Dr. Seuss:
Oh Córdoba!
Oh marvelous walls! Oh towers piled high!
All crowned with such honor they scrape at the sky.
Oh city of grandeur, of splendor, of flair—
You strut through the ages with confident air.
Oh river so mighty, great king as you flow,
Ruling Andalusia down valleys below.
Your sands are not golden, but noble and true,
And richer by far for the stories they knew.
Oh plains full of plenty! Oh mountains that rise,
Given first-class privileges straight from the skies.
Each dawn gets dipped gold as the sunlight runs free,
Because heaven decided: This view’s worth the fee.
Oh homeland eternal, my glorious place,
You’ve conquered with swords and with poems and grace.
By ink and by armor your legends were spun—
Brains and blades working better as one.
And if, midst the rubble and ruins you wear,
Polished bright by genius and Baena’s fair care,
Your memory failed me, stopped feeding my soul,
Left my thoughts running empty instead of made whole—
Then never, oh never, should these wandering eyes
See your walls, towers, river, plains, mountains, and skies.
Oh Córdoba, homeland, oh flower of Spain—
To forget you once would be far too much pain.