Sung by Alicia Benassayag, Tetuan, 1956.

The exploits of Roldan (Roland), the medieval French hero of the Reconquest, is celebrated in both French and Spanish ballads. Called “Chanson de Roland” in France, it portrays Roland as the embodiment of chivalric virtues. This Spanish ballad relates the treachery of the Moors, the attempted bribe by the Moorish queen to win Roldan to Islam, his defeat by the Moors at Roncesvalle in 778AD, his imprisonment and death, and the dream by his betrothed, Doña Alda, foretelling his demise. The dialogue is at times confusing as it shifts from third to second person, from one unidentified speaker to another, leaving the identity of the actors in doubt. Fortunately, the chilling details of the central story are clearly and unequivocally presented.

You were right about the Moor
In thinking him evil.
You lost your way,
You killed twelve friars,
You captured Rondal,
Admiral of the seas.
He captured no one
Of any consequence
Breaking his word
In the middle of the fight.
Seven dukes drew lots
To see who would slay him.

Then they threw him in prisons
Deep and dark.
Poor Rondal cried out
That he wanted to escape.
The queen heard him
From her own parlor
“Do not weep , Rondal,
For you are not an evil doer.
Abandon the law of Christ
Embrace the Moorish,
I will give you land portions
From my towns and cities.”

“Evil fires burn in your towns,
Your fires and your cities.
In Paris Doña Alda awailts me,
She is my betrothed
She has two hundred ladies
Of aristocratic lineage,
One hundred weave silk,
One hundred weave weave basket cribs,
One hundred attend tournaments
For Doña Alda’s amusement.

She remembers with horror
With great fear and dread:
“I dreamed a dream, my ladies,
Oh, such a terrible dream:
For those who guess right
I will find good husbands,
For those who guess wrong,
No entrance to my rose garden.
“Together they said:
We will do as you wish.”

From yonder hill-top
She saw a black heron enter.
Feathers fell from his wings,
Blood ran down his beak.
“The heron, my good lady,
Is your loyal mother-in-law.
The blood, my good lady,
Birds you must kill;
The feathers, my good lady,
Are the people he leads.
Rondal will come from the war
And he will marry you.”

At these words
A page pounded at the door.
“What good news do you bring, page?
Or what news do you bring?”
“The new I bring
I do not care to give you:
In the prime battle
They killed Don Rondale.”
When the princess heard that
She died on the spot.

Sung by Alicia Benassayag, Tetuan, 1956.

Que bien pensastis del moro
mal se lo hizo pensare,
mierdites obra del causo,
matastis a doce frailes,
cautivatis a Rondal,
almirante de los mares,
no le cautivó ninguno,
que él quiso apresentarse;
quebrando se le la espada
a mitad de guerreare,
siete duques echan suerte
por ver quién le da de matare.

Ya le meten en prisones
hondas y de oscuridades;
ya llora el pobre Rondal
que se quisiera arreventarse.
Oyido lo había la reina
desde su sala ande estare;
“No llores y tú, Rondal,
ni te quieras hacer male,
dejaréis la ley de Cristo,
la del morito tomaréis
Te darías yo de alveros,
mis villas y mis cuidades.”

“Mal fuego arde en tus villas,
sus fuegos y sus ciudades;
en Paris tengo a doña Alda,
mi esposa naturale,
doscientoas damas con ella
de muy altivo linaje,
las cien tejían sedas,
las cien tejen cedales,
la cien tocan torneo,
para doña Alda folgare.

Recorda despavorida,
con un pavor y atán grande:
”Un sueño soñi, mis doncellas,
ay qué allá tan grave;
todo la que me lo acierte,
buen marido l he de dare
y la que no me lo acierte
que no venga a mi rosale,”
Todos dicen a una boca:
“Bien sea y bien os hagale..”

Por aquel chargal de arriba
negra garza vide entrare,
de sus alas caen plumas
de su pico corre sangre.
“La garza, la mi señora,
es vuestra suegra leale,
la sangre, la mi señora,
aves que has de matare,
las plumas, la mi señora,
la gente que con el trae;
vendrá Rondal de la Guerra,
y contigo se ha de casare.”

Ellos se estas palabras,
un paje a la puerta bate:
“Qué albricias me traes, paje,
o qué noticias me traes?”
“La noticias que te triago’
no os la quisiera dare:
que en la primera batalla
mataron don Rondale.”
Como eso oyera la infanta
muerta quedó en el lugare.