Íñigo López de Mendoza

(19 August 1398 – 25 March 1458 / Carrión de los Condes)

Serranilla


FROM Calatrava as I took my way
At holy Mary's shrine to kneel and pray,
And sleep upon my eyelids heavy lay,
There where the ground was very rough and wild,
I lost my path and met a peasant child:
From Finojosa, with the herds around her,
There in the fields I found her.

Upon a meadow green with tender grass,
With other rustic cowherds, lad and lass,
So sweet a thing to see I watched her pass:
My eyes could scarce believe her what they found her,
There with the herds around her.

I do not think that roses in the Spring
Are half so lovely in their fashioning:
My heart must needs avow this secret thing,
That had I known her first as then I found her,
From Finojosa, with the herds around her,
I had not strayed so far her face to see
That it might rob me of my liberty.

I questioned her, to know what she might say:
'Has she of Finojosa passed this way? '
She smiled and answered me: 'In vain you sue,
Full well my heart discerns the hope in you:
But she of whom you speak, and have not found her.
Her heart is free, no thought of love has bound her,
Here with the herds around her.'

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004
Edited: Monday, April 23, 2012

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  • Eithne Queen of Celts (3/4/2008 3:20:00 AM)

    What a beautiful poem! it reminds me of Boucher's rococo paintings, about nymphs who rejoyce resting in the flowery fields and watching the herds...i can almost hear the sound of the shepherd's flute.I like this delicate style in poetry as well as in the 18th century painting. (Report) Reply

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