Beneath the Andalusian sky, where dreams are painted gold,
The flamenco dancers twirl, their stories softly told.
In sunlit plazas, laughter rings, a melody so clear,
The scent of tapas fills the air, memories held dear.
The olive groves stretch far and wide, a sea of endless green,
The vineyards whisper tales of love, of places never seen.
Through cobblestone streets, history walks, in every shadow, light,
The Spanish life, a tapestry, woven day and night.
The sea sings songs of sailors bold, of treasures lost and found,
The siesta’s quiet, restful peace, a sacred, silent sound.
From bustling markets, vibrant hues, to fiestas’ lively beat,
The heart of Spain forever beats, in rhythm and in heat.
As twilight falls, the moon ascends, over Alhambraâs grace,
The whispers of the past come forth, in every sacred place.
Spanish life, a symphony, of colors rich and bright,
A dance that never ends, beneath the starry night.