Languideciendo por las creencias... [ESP/ENG] || PHOTO

Parecía un sueño pero era realidad. En cualquier caso, un hombre como él no tendría espacio en la cerrada sociedad del siglo XII española, dominada por los moros y castigado por sus creencias religiosas. A él le sorprendía el contraste entre la majestuosa imagen grabada en su memoria, del palacete visto mientras los caballos tiraban del carruaje donde venía encerrado con otros prisioneros del califato, con la vista triste desde la celda donde se encontraba preso. Jamás podría imaginar en este u otro mundo haber terminado así.

Espectaculares cipreses y cuidados jardines rodeaban el majestuoso palacio de arquitectura nazarí. La verdad, dada sus circunstancias, se sentía también con un poco de suerte por haber sido enviado allí. Podría haber terminado en una mazmorra en suelo moro, donde el trato es mucho peor y nadie -según se decía a voces- salía vivo. De no haber hecho pública accidentalmente sus creencias católicas, otra suerte habría corrido, pero no era momento de echarse atrás. Ningún hombre probo lo haría.

ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)

It seemed like a dream but it was reality. In any case, a man like him would have no place in the closed society of 12th century Spain, dominated by the Moors and punished for his religious beliefs. He was surprised by the contrast between the majestic image engraved in his memory, of the palace seen as the horses pulled the carriage where he was locked up with other prisoners of the caliphate, with the sad view from the cell where he was imprisoned. I could never imagine in this or any other world to have ended up like that.

Spectacular cypress trees and manicured gardens surrounded the majestic palace of Nasrid architecture. Truth be told, given his circumstances, he also felt a bit lucky to have been sent there. He could have ended up in a dungeon on Moorish soil, where the treatment is far worse and no one - it was said loudly - got out alive. Had he not accidentally made his Catholic beliefs public, his fate would have been different, but this was no time to back out. No man of taste would do so.

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Desde los barrotes de su celda, al menos, podía ver el cielo y parte del almenar adornado de una de las torres. Un par de cipreses le hinchaban el alma cuando la nostalgia le invadía ¿Cómo estaría su esposa e hijo? ¿También le habrían caído encima la guardia musulmana? ¿Podrían estar vivos esclavizados en alguna parte del reino? O por el contrario ¿Les habrían cortado el cuello para congraciarse con sus señores? Todo era dudas y solo la vista le hacía evocar momentos mágicos vividos antes de la invasión de la península.

Sólo por ser un cristiano respetado antes de estallar el escándalo por su Dios, fue que logró no le enviaran a Oriente medio. En su lugar, el imán sentenció su encierro en las mazmorras de la Alhambra, una suerte que podría haber acompañado a su familia. El caso es que nadie le decía nada sobre el paradero de ellos. En las noches frías, cuando el cielo se encontraba despejado y la luz de la luna se colaba entre los barrotes, se acercaba a la ventana para rezar por el bienestar y el pronto reencuentro. La guerra por la reconquista quizás estallaría pronto y se reencontraría con su familia.

ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)

From the bars of his cell, at least, he could see the sky and part of the ornate battlements of one of the towers. A pair of cypresses swelled his soul when nostalgia invaded him. How would his wife and son be? Would the Muslim guard have fallen on him as well? Could they be alive and enslaved somewhere in the kingdom? Or on the contrary, had their throats been cut to ingratiate themselves with their lords? Everything was doubtful and only the sight alone made him evoke magical moments lived before the invasion of the peninsula.

It was only because he was a respected Christian before the outbreak of the scandal for his God that he was not sent to the Middle East. Instead, the imam sentenced his confinement in the dungeons of the Alhambra, a fate that could have accompanied his family. The fact is that no one would tell him anything about their whereabouts. On cold nights, when the sky was clear and the moonlight slipped through the bars, he would go to the window to pray for their well-being and a speedy reunion. The war for the reconquest would perhaps break out soon and he would be reunited with his family.

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Los castigos físicos en el patio y la comida podrida que le servían, no eran más que acicates para recordar su credo y combustible para alimentar la esperanza del reencuentro. Pero los días se alargaban por el tedio, poco a poco su cuerpo comenzó a fallar por la frecuencia de las palizas ¿Saben que era lo peor? Si quería salir vivo de allí, tendría por renegar a su Dios. Pero él no era Judas. Años de haber podido presenciar milagros documentados, provocaron su conversión de un laico comprometido a la iglesia del señor. Así las cosas, moriría por Dios si era a lo que se encontraba destinado.

Un día le fueron a buscar a la celda. Pensó que le darían otra paliza, no le importaba. Pero los guardias no le llevaron por el camino acostumbrado, en cambio, le hicieron subir los escalones hasta la torre con los almenares que se veían desde su celda. Y en cada uno de ellos, se encontraba amarrada una soga, le vendaron los ojos y le pusieron una de ellas alrededor del cuello. Un edicto había sido firmado y el empujón recibido por detrás dejó su cuerpo en el aire. El crac del cuello se oyó desde la celda que le había estado guarneciendo. La muerte por las creencias había ganado otro mártir.

ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)

The physical punishments in the courtyard and the rotten food they served him were nothing more than a spur to remind him of his creed and fuel to feed the hope of reunion. But the days dragged on because of the tedium, and little by little his body began to fail because of the frequency of the beatings. If he wanted to get out of there alive, he would have to disown his God. But he was no Judas. Years of witnessing documented miracles led to his conversion from a committed layman to the Lord's church. As it was, he would die for God if that was what he was destined to do.

One day he was fetched to his cell. He thought he would get another beating, he didn't care. But the guards did not take him the usual way, instead, they made him climb the steps up to the tower with the battlements that could be seen from his cell. And on each of them, a rope was tied, he was blindfolded and one of them was placed around his neck. An edict had been signed and the push he received from behind left his body in the air. The crack of the neck was heard from the cell that had been guarding him. Death for belief had won another martyr.