My heart is in the east, and the rest of me at the edge of the west.
How can I taste the food I eat? How can it give me pleasure?
How can I keep my promise now, or fulfill the vows I've made
While Zion remains in the Cross's reign, and I in Arab chains?
With pleasure I would leave behind all the good things of grand Spain,
If only I could gaze on the dust of our ruined Holy Place.