Beyond the sleepy hills of Spain, The sun goes down in yellow mist, The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst.
Yet in the city of my love High noon burns all the heavens bare-- For him the happiness of light, For me a delicate despair.
Off Gibraltar, the speaker watches evening fall: the sun sinks in yellow mist beyond Spain, stars appear, and the sea glows amethyst. It should be a peaceful, beautiful scene. But her thoughts turn to someone far away—“the city of my love”—where it is still high noon with a bare, burning sky.
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