Poems of Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer #225891

To<br><br>Manual De Santa Maria.<br><br>The soft strings of a Spanish lute one day<br>You struck, and plaintive notes gushed forth like tears.<br>Ravished I listened, and I longed to play<br>The music to another people's ears.<br><br>You showed me all the cunning workmanship,<br>The stretching of the strings, the exquisite<br>Adjustment of the frets, the body's dip;<br>I took the lute and tried to copy it.<br><br>Well, here it is, re-fashioned and re-strung.<br>Play on it; ah, I fear those sweet, sad airs<br>Sound cracked and harsh now, better left unsung.<br>Well, fling the lute aside and take Becquer's!