Letra de The Ride of El Cid

Rodrigo Diaz, called the Cid, of Castile
Defended the right and brought rebels to heel;
His blade won a city, or so the bards sing
But Honor demanded he humble the heart of a King
And so he is banished—his King has betrayed him—
And Death is the sentence for any who aid him
The people lament for the loss of their sword;
“Oh what a good vassal, if only he had a good lord!”
“Farewell, my Ximena, my most perfect wife
The shame of an exile shall not be your life.”
As the nail from the flesh they have parted their ways
And humbly to Heaven Rodrigo most fervently prays
“Oh Glorious One, in your mercy, protect me;
Send me your guidance and do not reject me.”
And God gives him help, as Our Savior redeems
The Archangel Gabriel comes to the Cid in his dreams
(and says…)
[Chorus] Ride, Cid! Blessed the hour you were born!
Blessed the moment you girded your sword!
Christian and Saracen call you their lord;
The Army of Heaven has sounded its horn
And Gabriel calls you to ride!
And so, out of Spain Don Rodrigo will ride
The flower of chivalry staunch at his side—
Knights seven score ride with three hundred lance
Swords of the Crown become soldiers of Fortune and Chance
In al-Andalus they are striking and raiding
With hopes of a service in honor fast fading;
From far Zaragoza, a King calls in need
“Command well my forces and take up the name of El Cid!”
For King Mutamin, for his rich and his poor
El Cid was defender from Christian and Moor;
Soon all Zaragoza is safe and serene
And fair Barcelona pays tribute to King Mutamin
Now the Cid seeks a home that has long been denied him
Valencia’s rule with Ximena beside him;
His siege breaks the City, the judges convene
“Come live as our liege-lord and crown your Ximena as queen!”
[Chorus] Ride, Cid! Blessed the hour you were born!
Blessed the moment you girded your sword!
Christian and Saracen call you their lord;
The Army of Heaven has sounded its horn
And Gabriel calls you to ride!
For five years the Cid has a glorious reign
And Valencia’s wealth floods the coffers of Spain;
Rodrigo is welcomed again by his liege
‘Til Berbers from Africa lay the Cid’s kingdom to siege
Hunger and heartache cannot overtake him;
His son falls in battle, but grief cannot break him
He goes to the people to rally their pride—
“Tomorrow we sally to meet them in one final ride!”
But mortal is he, and in deeps of the night
The soul of the Cid from his body takes flight
Ximena a marvelous plan will contrive—
“My husband will ride at your head whether dead or alive!”
In armor on horseback his body they settle
To conquer the ultimate test of his mettle;
He rides down his enemies, deaf to their screams
And rides out of sorrow and death into legend and dreams!
[Chorus] Ride, Cid! Blessed the hour you were born!
Blessed the moment you girded your sword!
Christian and Saracen call you their lord;
The Army of Heaven has sounded its horn
And Gabriel calls you to ride!