Tres palombas van volando 1

From Arboleras Vol. 2 - Romances Sefardies Tradicion Oral

The ballad tells of a young maiden who is gambled away by her father in a game of kings, likely chess, and won by a Frankish Moor. Her father refuses to give her freely for gold or gain, emphasizing her status as a prize rather than a willing participant. Over the first three years of marriage, she repeatedly sells her jewelry, which he repurchases, and in the third year he collects the tilal, likely a bride-price or marital payment. 

Text:
Tres palombas van volando     ya no quedan, ya no quedan de volar.
ya posan en un castillo,     castillo, castillo de oro es.
All  había una muchacha    vistida, vistida de catifé.
El su padre no la daba      ni por oro, ni por oro ni por bien.
Por ahí pas el moro Franco,   la demandó, la demandó por mujer
Ya la echan al juguete,   al juguete de reyes.
Ya la gana el Moro Franco,   de una vez fin' a tres.
Ya la toma de la mano,    ya se la lleva con él.
En medio del camino     a llorar se le metió.
- ¿Por que lloras, blanca y linda,   ¿Por qué lloras, blanca flor?
si lloras por el tu padre,     huertelano mío es;
si lloras por la tu madre,    cocinera mía es,
si lloras por tus hermanos,   yo matí de un fin' a tres.
- No lloro por padre y madre,   ni por mis hermanos tres:
lloro por la mi  ventura,    que no tenía que ser!
Primer año de casada,    los orejales le vendió,
- No te estreches tú, querida,   mijor ti los compro yo.
Segundo año de casada,   las manillas le vendió.
- No te estreches tú, querida, mijor te las compro yo.
Trecer año de casada,    al tilal ya la metió.
- No te seklíes mi hija,    mijor mujer tomo yo.

Translation:
Three doves go flying now none remain, now none remain to fly.
They settle upon a castle, a castle, a castle that is of gold.
There was a young maiden there dressed, dressed in silken cloth.
Her father would not give her not for gold, not for gold nor for gain.
Along came the Frankish Moor, he claimed her, he claimed her for his wife.
Again they cast her into the game, into the game of kings.
The Frankish Moor won her, once and then three times.
He took her by the hand, he carried her away with him.
In the middle of the road she began to weep.
- Why do you weep, fair and lovely, why do you weep, white flower?
If you weep for your father, he shall be my gardener;
if you weep for your mother, she shall be my cook;
if you weep for your brothers, I slew them one by one.
- I weep not for father or mother, nor for my three brothers;
I weep for my fate, for what should never have been!
The first year of marriage, she sold her earrings,
- Do not trouble yourself, my dear, I will buy them from you myself.
The second year of marriage, she sold her bracelets,
- Do not trouble yourself, my dear, I will buy them from you myself.
The third year of marriage, he collected the tilal / payment from her.
- Do not grieve, my daughter, I will take a better woman myself.