I was born with he fair skin of the great Castilian kings
who expelled the great unusuals.
Too different, or too ashamed, to admit sick jealousy.
I attend my daily duties to express my great love for God.
Yet I am empty. Alone. With no access to heaven.
I am without a father, without a creator
My eyes only see every grain of man’s sodomy.
Man’s diseases. Man’s failures.
I pray to him as other good Muslims do, I am sincere.
I’m a heathen among among a heavenly people.
Cursed to hate my own design
Throughout my life and into the next,
I will be the bane of God and of Spain.