The record-union., 1893-01-10
AN ORIENTAL ECHO.
A Poem From the Hungarian of Mau-
rus Zokat.
How an Eastern King stole a Pearl OF
Priceless Value and Died for
Ills Treachery.


alone in the shadow of weeping willows.
BIne waves are hiding her fair, virginia.
form; the silver foliage of the willows
keeps of the torrid rays of the sun, and
out of the curlng waters emerge only her
snowy neck and raven hair.
Oh, snowy neck! Oh, raven hair.
Brave Julian has struck his camp in
the yellow desert sands OF distant Africa.
There across the sea, he is leading The
hosts Of the King TO battle against inhdel
Muors.
Brave Julian had promised it to the
KING. II Will be victorious" he said, land
TO insure thee against my becoming a
traitor ! leave thee my only daughter as
host. my only daughter, her, who is
the most beautiful malden from the IajO
10 the GuadaIquivir, whose neck is 50
da@lling white, whose hair SO raven
black.
Oh, snowy neck! on, raven nair!
King Bodericll was walking to and fro
on the terrace Of his palace. Far into dis
tance extends the view. The sun is Just
sinking into sea; way beyond stretch the
Lofty ridges Of the Atlas; on the plains Of
blessed Iberia the almond trees are
blooming.
But the King las no eye for the sinking
sun, 40 glance tor The mountains, at the
foot % which a wariike enemy has struck
his tents, mono for Iberia's paradisean
eyes.
He sees only a blooming maiden who
IS bathing III the blue river and whose
dazzling neck is cnastely shaded by sable
rlnglei
Inc King turns to his courtiers: 'W ho
IS yon maiden ;air? IOn, who is bathing
in the shadow OF the weeping willows;
who Is blooming III sweet CHASTITY like il
fairy sprung OF t0amH / love this maiueu
with ardent, aIl-consumnS ierVor"
and thus the cOultlers answer: "Alas,
my King yon maiden is the daughter Of
Iullan, The General. Who is Hghling Tor
thee against the inndeIs across the sea.
Avert thine eye from her, OH kingW
But the klng IS looking incess lntly at
the maiden. .'IHiS glance decides my
fate"
On, snowy neck! On raven hair
The General across the sea has been
victorious. He has anniniiated the enc
mics OF the i-ing. Laden with booty and
crowned with glory, he is marching
hOmeWarI.
on the way the evil tiGiugs reach him.
"Oh, glorious victor, do not hurry home
so gladly! The King has robbed thee Of
thy daughter, thy uuly, beautiful daugh-
ter. Now thou hast nobody 20 love. lie
has tOrcibly abducted and carried her to
his palace, as She was bathing alone ia
the GuadalQuiVlr.'
liz AilG NftllGld1 tears tIOIll DIS DlOW
the laureI-Wreath and Iings it into the
sea.
Cursed be the sword that is drawn
to thy defense and blessed the
one that IS drawn against thee, thou
ravisher May the hostile torch lay The
country in ashes from one end to the
other. May blood dow in thy lakes and
thy rivers, since thou hast dishouOred
me, 50, that water is not able to cleanse
me-"
Woe, snowy neck! Woe. raven hair!
Iulian returns TO Africa, to the yellow
sanded desert where Tarik. the powerful.
reigns over the free tribes.
Boldly he approaches the Saracen
chief, before whom even the bravCst dare
only appear with heads bowed to the
ground.
Il am Iulian, yesterday thy unrelent-
ing foe, to-day thy prisoner; Tomorrow
if thou wilt thy general. Cursed he. for
whom l fought against theei He ravished
my daughter, whose maidenly beauty
had no equal on this nor on the other side
OF the briny deep.
''See! This piece Of earth, Whereto my
sword is pointing, is more beautiful than
paradise; it is richly blessed with the
sweetest fruit; in the depths of its streams
gold and pearls are hidden; on it's plains
the fastest steeds are roaming and in its
towns are living women, beautiful and
chaste. Come, take the gold ana pearls
of this country; give the steeds to thy
warriors. make the women thy slaves
but give to me the blood Of the men. for
only that can cleanse me OF my shame"
Oh, snowy neck! Oh, raven hair!
Prince Tarik rises from his panther
skin, embraces and kisses his enemy that
was, and VOWS by his naked sword re-
venge for him. He would drag the faith
less, the migrate from his throne, Would
make him homeless exile; he vowed to
carry his destructive arms into the most
distant corners of Iberia, wherever the
tidings reached OF King Rodericl's in
suit TO Almeriza, the daughter OF Iulian.
50 that every one v no has heard Of Iuli-
ans dlshonOr may also hear of his re-
Ncnge.
Twelve thousand S2racen horse landed
opposite the Atlas Mountains on the
blessed shores of Iberia. Their leaders
were Iarik and Iulian.
Ihe blast OF the war trumpets rudelv
awoke King Roderick from his dreams:
p, up, my brave GOths, Where is my
sword and lance, where my shield?
1ulian has returned to pay the debt. A
hundred strokes OF the sword 1or every
kiss, an ocean Of blood for every tear. a
dead hero Tor every hair that was hurt;
two countries for two white shoulders =
The warriors Of King koderick are
Brave knights in iron coats OF mail, the
choicest troops Of the royal army.
GhiDel al Iarik is the name OF Il mount
ain where the two armies met. For there
the saracen Prince TArik vauQuished the
noble troops OF the King. THc best Of the
Gothic leaders tell there. No memorial
marks the place OF their historic deaJh.
"GIjJel al Tarik'' that mountain was
nam'~.
Voc, snowy neck! Woe, raven hair!
Woe, King Rodericis The Moors are
here, and with them is Julian, once thy
friend, now thy deadly foe Gather thy
hosts! Let all VINO can carry weapon
take the field. 1t is the Moor or the Goth
that is fighting now his last combat. No
human being should stay at home After
the last battle is no living any more Tor
the lighting hero, no quiet slumber for
the sucking babe within the stone walls
OF town. no smile in the soft ewes OF
beautiful women.
Nothing out streams of fire and tears!
Oh, snowy neck on, raven hairl
Near Xeres de Ia Frontera King Roder-
lex meets the iutidel Moors. For two davs
the giant battle is raging. On both sides
numbers OF heroes sink in the dust.
ON the second day the two Princes
search tor each other in the hottest tur-
MOL OF battle.
With blood-dripping sword King Rod
erick fights his way to the enemy.
zone Of us must die this day ~
'king Roderick, thou art taithless; thou
hast robbed the most faithful servant of
his costliest gem. Thou wilt dep
And the two princes, with cleaning
weapons. hurl themselves against each
other Their coats OF mail are changing
and crashing under the powerful strokes,
Now they rest. Then the combat is re-
newed. Here the purple mantle, there
the white tunic, is cut and torn by the
wild strokes. Bloody rags are hanging
from royal robes.
And for the third time the princes spur