Una hija tiene el rey 1

Jerusalem National Sound Archives placement:
Referenced and notated in: Romancero Sefardi de Marruecos, pg. 70, Editorial Alpuerto, Pardes Publishing House, 2018 Susana Weich-Shahak.

A story of a young woman longing for her beloved who is at war. She states that she will write to his commanders demanding his return, and if they will not, she herself will lead the war at land and sea until he is returned.

Lyrics:
Una hija tiene el rey,       una hija regalada,
su padre, por más valor,      un castillo la fraguara:
con ventanas a la mar,       por donde el aire la entrara,
por una, le entraba el sol    y el aire de la mañana;
por la más chiquita de ellas   entra un gavilán y sale
con sus alas abiertas      y no le hace ningn male.
Bordando 'stá un camisón     para el hijo de la reina,
bordándole está con oro,     labrándole está con seda
y, entre puntada y puntada,    un aljofar y una perla.
- ¿Por qué no cantas, mi bien?   ¿por qué no cantas, la bella?
- No canto ni cantaré,       que mi amor está en la guerra.
Y una carta escribiré        de mi puño y de mi letra:
que me traigan a mi amor,    sano y vivo y sin cadenas.
Y si no me lo trajeren    yo armaré una grande guerra
de navíos, por la mar,     de gente armada, por tierra.
Si no hubieren velas prontas,   mis ricas trenzas pusiera,
si no hubieren remíos prontos,   mis lindos brazos pusiera,
si no hubiere capitán,      yo me pondré a la bandera
para que diga la gente:   "viva, viva esa doncella
que por salvar a su amor     se echó ella a la tormenta".

Translation:
And a daughter has the king, a cherished daughter,
her father, for her greater worth, forged her a castle:
with windows to the sea, through which the air might enter,
through one, the sun came in and the morning air as well;
through the smallest of them all a hawk comes in and goes out
with its wings spread wide and does her no harm.
She is embroidering a shirt for the queen’s own son,
embroidering it with gold, working it with silk
and, between stitch and stitch, a fine pearl and a gem.
-Why do you not sing, my dear? Why do you not sing, beautiful one?
- I neither sing nor will I sing, for my love is at the war.
And a letter I will write with my own hand and with my script:
that they bring me back my love, whole and living and unharmed.
And if they do not bring him I will wage a mighty war
of ships upon the sea, of armed men upon the land.
If there are no sails ready, my rich braids I would place,
if there are no oars ready, my lovely arms I would place,
if there is no captain, I myself will stand beneath the banner
so that the people may say: “long live, long live that maiden
who to save her love threw herself into the storm.”