THE SPANISH PEAKS
(A Native American Love story)

Let me tell you a tale of a tragic love,
That I heard so long ago.
A secret love that could not long endure.
For she was Ute... and he was Navajo.

Legend tells of this forbidden love,
That burst into a burning flame,
In the heart of that fair maiden; 
 Huajatolla was her Indian name.

They met by chance, one Summer’s eve, 
By a rippling mountain stream.
There they pledged their love, but lived in fear,
That it would never be but an empty dream.

Mistrust and hate between their tribes
Had lasted lo! these many years,
So the Tribal Chiefs condemned their love,
Despite his pleas... despite her tears.

They kissed goodbye, he was called to war. 
“I will return”, he said, “please wait for me”.
But with broken heart, she chose to die,
For she knew their love could never be.

The young Brave searched for her in vain.
In his heart he could hear her mournful cry.
He returned to where they had first known love,
And prayed: “Please bring her back, or I too shall die”.

Then the Gods looked down, and wisely said:
“She shall return... as mountains, bold and tall.
For such a wondrous love cannot just disappear.
She can now be loved... and revered by all”.

Today they’re called The Spanish Peaks,
And that is where the young maid lies.
Her form is outlined in the morning mist,
Her proud breast pointing toward the skies.