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Unknown characters: Part V: Felipe 1931 - 2016 © 2016, 2019 Victor D. López

You were born five years before the beginning of the Civil War in Spain, which will lead to your father's exile. The language came to you later than with your younger brother Manuel, and you stuttered for a while, unlike those who speak constantly without having anything to say. Your mother accepts the shyness of lack of clarity - a tragic mistake that she marks for life.

When your brother Manuel died at the age of three from meningitis, you heard your mother exclaimed, "God took my smart, and left me stupid." You were only five years old. You never forgot these words. How could you? Still, you loved your mother with all your heart. But you also closed yourself more, and loneliness became your companion and best friend.

In fact, you were an extremely child. The stuttering disappeared after the age of five and never returned, and when you were in high school, your teacher called your mother a rare lecture and told her that your mind was gifted and that you should go to university to study natural sciences, mathematics or Engineering.

Napisała do Twojego wygnanego ojca w argentynie, aby przekaza rou dobrą wiDomość, ż twoi profesorow wierzyli, ż ż łcz. Ywny Uniwersytet public, Gdzie Miejsc Było Niewiele I Bardzo Trudno By Je Zdobyć Na Podstawie Egzaminów Konkursowych. Odpowiedź Twojego Ojca? KUP MU PARę Wołów Do Orania Ziemi.

Ta odpowiedź Od bardzo szanowanego człowieka, Dużej ryby w Małym Stawie w Jego rodzinnym olearos w tamtym czasie, jest nie do pojęcia. Postanowił Zachować swój własny interes, kontynuują rodzinny biznes i uprawiają ziemię pod swoją nieobecność. Ta Blizna została również dodana do tych, które nigdy nie zagoją się na twoim ogromnym and porowatym sercu.

Bez pomocy w pokryciu kosztów utrzymania W College'u (Wszystko, Czego Potrzebowałeś), Byłeś Rozczarowany I Zranion, Ale Nie Zły; Po Prostu znalazłeś Inną opcjorder. Zdałeś Egzaminy do dwóch szkół wojskowych, które zapewniały doskona wykształcenie zawodowe I niewielką pens w zamian za sft.

Out of hundreds of applicants for multiple prize places at each of these two institutions, you came in first place at the more competitive El Parque and thirteenth at the second-place La Fábrica de Armas. You chose the lower one to give up your place to a classmate who had been eliminated by a few points. That was you, always and forever.

At military school, you were finally in your element. There you would have become a world-class mechanic and/or machinist, a profession that would guarantee you a well-paid job for life anywhere on earth. You were a true mechanical genius who, over the years, would add to your skills in electronics, automotive mechanics, and specialized welding.

With a well-equipped machine shop, you could reverse engineer, duplicate every machine AND assemble an identical machine without any blueprints or instructions. You became a talented master mechanic and worked in the ranks and in management positions in several companies in Argentina and the United States, including Westinghouse, Warner-Lambert and Pepsi Co.

You loved to learn, especially in your fields (electronics, mechanics, welding), and you sought perfection in everything you did. Every difficult task at work was given to you throughout your life. You did not sleep at night when you had to solve a problem. With particular passion you performed calculations, drew drawings, plans and even worked literally in your dreams.

Faced with academic and physical difficulties in military school, you were in your element, but life was difficult for you during the Franco era, when some instructors called you "Roxo" - Galician for "red" - referring to your father's policies supporting the failed Republic. In the long run, the insults were too much.

Once, while standing in the hallway with other cadets waiting for roll call, you were secretly pushed in the back several times. You received penalties for your movement, and the penalties could result in losing points from your final grade and being arrested for several weekends in a row. You put up with it for a while, until you lost patience.

Turning to the cadet sitting behind his back, you grabbed it by a jacket in one smooth motion and hung it with one hand on the hook above the window where they stood. He shivered until he was rescued by two angry military instructors. You were given a weekend detention for months and 10 percent. reduced final rating.

A similar fate after a few years in Buenos Aires, he struck a coworker who called you the son of the bitch. You lifted him with one hand behind the throat and held it until the coworkers intervened and saved him by force. The lesson was learned by all: Leave the Felipe's mother in peace.

You were incredibly strong, especially in your youth, of course, in part because of strict agriculture, military training and participation in sports competitions. At the age of fifteen, you once leaned over to raise something in the presence of Aries, becoming an irreversible target for the animal. He leaned over to you on the top of the hay coupe. You also learned a lesson quickly.

Two Hast Dich Wieder AufgerAppelt, Bist Zu Dem Armen Schafbock Gelaufen, Hast Ihn An Den Hörnern Gepackt, IHN Mehrmals Herumgewiet und Ihn AUF DENHAUFEN GEWORFEN. Das Tier Wurde Nicht Verletzt, Lernte Aber, von Diesem Tag An Abstand Zu Halten. Im Allgemeinen Warst du Ramp Langsam Wütend, Wenn du nicht nicktest, Wiederholt Schubstest Oder Dich Respertos Gegenüber Deiner Mutter äuhest.

Ich Habe Dich Selten Wütend Gesehen, und Es War Mom, Nicht Du, Die Mi Mi Dem HausSchuh in der Hand Disziplinerte. Ich Habe Ramp Wenige Ohrfeigen von Dire Bekommen. Als Ich Klein War, Hat Mich Mich Mutter of Mit Dem Pantoffel Geschlagen, Vor Allem, Weil Ich Eine Richtigige Nervnsäge Sein Konnte, Die Alles Wissen/Versuchen/Machen Wollte und Die Bedeutung des Worories Nein Nein Grenzen Nicht Kannt.

Manchmal Bestand Meine Mutter Darauf, Dass du Mir Eine Ordentliche Tracht Prügel Gibst. Einmal, Als Ich Neun Jahre Alt War, Hast du Mich Wegen Einer Vergessenen ürteng in Dein Zimmer Gebracht, Den Gürttel Abgenommen, Dich No Mich Gesetzt und Mehrmals Auf Deinene Aegenen Hand Geklopft. Was ich ohne Weitteres tat. "SAG ES Nicht Mom." Ich Tat Es Nicht. Kein Zweifel, Ich Wusste in the EU.

It was difficult to raise the perspective to serve in the military, who considered you a blood traitor, and in the third year, a year before school, you went to the deported father to Argentina to start a new life. You left your beloved mother and two sisters to start everything in a new country. Your beloved dog died of grief.

When you arrive in Buenos Aires, you saw a father you didn't remember at the age of 17. You were too young to work legally but looked older than your year (a common feature). You lied about your age and immediately found a job as a driver / mechanic in Class 1. It was unheard of and caused you jealousy and complaints from the trade union workshop.

The union complained to the CEO of your salary and rank. He replied, "I will give the same rank and salary to any employee of the company who will be able to do what Felipe does." Of course, jealousy and barns continued for a while. However, there were no buyers. And soon you won the group, becoming their protected pet with the "smaller brother".

IHR Water Verließ Spanien InnerHalb Eines Jahres Nach Ihrer Ankunft, Als Franco Alle Dissidenten, Die Kein Blut Vergossen Hatten, Begnadigte. ER WOLLTE, Dass Sie Zurückkehren, UM DAS FamilienNernehmen, Das Ihre Mutter Während Seiner Abwesenheit übernommen Hatte, Mit Ihrer Hilfe Wieder Aufzunehmen. Aber Sie Weigerten Sich, IHR Hohes Gehalt, Den Respekt und Die Unabhängigkeit Aufzureben, Die Ihnen Zu Hause Verwehrt Wurden.

Sie Waren Kaum 18 Jahre Alt und Wohnten in Einm Zimmer, Das Sie Mit Ihrem Water No Einer Schule geellt Hatten. Aber Sie Hatten Auch Auch Eine Liebe Neue Familie in ihrem onkel José, Einem Bruder Ihres Waters, und Seiner Familie Gefunden. Seine tochter Nieves Mit Ihrem Mann Emilio und Ihren Kindern Susan, Oscar (Rubén Gordé) und Osvald Wurden Ihre Neu Kernfamilie.

These heirateten Ihre Mutter 1955 und Hatten Ende der 1950er und Anfang der 1960er Jahre Zwei Gescheitterte Unternehmen in Dem Schnell Verblassenden Argentinien. Das Erste War Eine Werkstatt Mit Einem Kleinen Vermögen Aus Nicht Bezahlten Regierungsaufträgen. Das Zweite, Ein Lebensmittelladen, Scheiterte Ebenfalls an der Hyperinflation unde der Kredürftigabe Kunden.

During all this time, they continue to earn an exceptionally good salary. But in the mi d-1960s, almost everything went on the loyalty of the failed grocery store. We had very difficult years. One day I'll write about it. Mother worked as a maid, even with rich friends. You went out of the house at 4 a. m. and returned at night to pay the bills.

The only luxury you and mom did to you was my Catholic school. There were no other extravagances. Not paying the bills was never an option for you. It never came to mind. It was not a question of the law or pride, but a question of honor. We spent at least three very painful years with you and mom worked very hard and deserved well, but we were really poor.

You and mom were very careful to hide this in front of me, and have taken great privation to protect me from the consequences of a broken economy and its effects on your savings and our comfortable life. In the late 1960s we came to the United States, after waiting for a visa for more than three years, to a new country of hope.

Each Zwager Marisa en manuel hebben hun offer offered om ons here te krijgen. We brought a aanbetaling van $ 1, 000 Mee voor ons Kleine Huisje, en Mama's fanded jewels (hyperinflatie en uitgaven vratten de lef t-back betalingen op). Other goods begging in the case of a suitcase bak aft gelatats TOTATTE ZE Teruggehald. Dat is nooit.

Zelfs de Vliegtickets become Door Marisa en Manuel Betaald. U Stond Bij Aankomst Op Schriftelijke Voorwaarden voor terugbetaling met Rente. U werd tijdens uw eerste spek aangenomen as an eerst rank mechanic ondanks het feit dat u geen wotord angels stak. Twee masen later was the guilt afbetaald, mama worked ook en we verhuisden naar onze eerste flat.

Per maest long daga, including zaterdagen en Dagelijkse Overuren. Een Afnemende Gefondheid dwong je om op je 63e met pensioen te gaan en kort daarna Verhuisden jij en mama van queens naar orange county. Jullie cooked een huis op twee uur van onze vastste woonplaats in otsego County en de Volgende tien Jaar were jullie gelkkig, rice jullie met vrigen en kwamen jullie vaak opzoek.

Then things started to change. Heart problems (two pacemakers), colon cancer, mole cancer, liver and kidney disease caused by your medicines, high blood pressure, gout, gallbladder surgery, diabetes. And yet you continued to move forward, like Energizer Bunny, patched together, struck, stunned, but unstoppable and unwavering.

Then Mom began to show signs of memory loss in addition to the other health problems. She hid her own ailments well, and we only realized much later that it was a serious problem. Two years ago, the dementia disease worsened, but she continued to work until complications after a gallbladder operation required four operations over three months.

She never recovered and had to be placed in a nursing home with intensive care. More, in fact, as she refused to eat, and you and I refused to just let her go, which might have been more noble. But "as long as there is life, there is hope," as the Spaniards say. There is nothing beyond God's power. Miracles happen.

For two years you lived alone, denied outside help, and it led to many quarrels about having someone to help with cleaning, cooking and housework a few days a week. You were nothing but stubborn (another common feature). The last quarrel on this theme fourteen days ago ended with crying. You would not receive outside help until my mom came home.

You were in great pain due to exposures in the spine, and you went with one of the walking chairs with a board as my mom and I had selected for you many years ago. You sat down when the pain became too strong, and then you went on without complaining. Ten days ago, you finally agreed that you had to go to the hospital to empty the abdominal fluid. Your sick liver and kidneys produced fluid, and your stomach and legs were so swollen that it was difficult to wear shoes and clothes, and it was difficult to breathe. You called me from a local shop and cried that you didn't find a trouser that fit. We talked together for a while and I calmed down, as always, and did not let you drown in sel f-pity.

You went home and found new stretch pants that Alice and I had bought for you and you were happy. You now had two clean clothes that you still fit to wear to the hospital. Everything was fine there. The procedure was not dangerous and I had already experienced it a few times. It would take a few days in the hospital and I would see you again at the weekend.

I could not be with you on Monday 22 February when you had to go to the hospital, as I almost always did, because of my work. You would be admitted the Friday before so I could be with you, but the doctors also have days off and they changed the appointment. I couldn't miss my work. But you were not worried; This was just routine. You would be fine. I'll see you again in a few days.

We would go to Mama on Friday, if you were a lot lighter and you would feel a lot better. Maybe we could buy more clothes for you if the swelling did not decrease enough. You drove to the doctor yourself and were then transported to the hospital by ambulance. I was worried, but not too worried. You called me around five in the afternoon to tell me that you were doing well and that you were resting.

“Don't worry. I am safe here and I am carefully taken care of. We talked about the usual and I assured you that I would see you on Friday or Saturday. You were tired and wanted to sleep. I asked you to call me if you woke up that night later or I would talk to you the next day. Around 10 p. m. I received a phone call from your mobile phone and I answered in my usual cheerful way.

"Hi, Dad." On the other hand, there was a nurse who told me that my father had fallen. I assured her that she was wrong, because my father was there to drain belly fluid. “You don't understand. He fell out of bed and bumped his head on a bedside table or something, and his heart stopped. We have been working with him for 20 minutes and it doesn't look good. "

"Can you come here?" I couldn't. Shortly before the phone call I had drunk two or three glasses of wine. I couldn't drive the three hours to Middletown. I cried. I prayed. Fifteen minutes later I received the phone call that you were gone. Lost in sadness, not knowing what to do, I called my wife. Shortly thereafter a phone call came from the coroner. An autopsy was needed. I couldn't see you.

Four days later, your body was finally delivered to the undertaker I had chosen because of his experience with the funeral process in Spain. I saw you for the last time to identify your body. I kissed my fingers and touched your mutilated forehead. You could not even have the dignity of an open casket. You wanted cremation. Your body is waiting for it as I write this.

You were alone, even in death. Alone. In the hospital, while strangers worked on you. In the coroner’s office while you waited for an autopsy. On the autopsy table while they poked and cut your body looking for irrelevant clues that would change nothing and benefit no one, least of all you.

We will have a memorial service with your ashes next Friday and a mass on Saturday. I will never see you again in this life. Alice and I will take you to your hometown, Olearos Cemetery, La Coruña, Spain this summer. There you will wait for the love of your life. Who will join you in the fullness of time. She didn't understand my tears, nor your death.

In the Demenz liet ein Segen. If you leave the house behind you, you will be happy, you will be happy, but you can look after it. „Sie kommt“, says sie mir, when ever ich sie sehe. You have seen your day, but we will never forget the good health. Diesen 10. Februar, den 61. Hochzeitstag, habt ihr gerennt verbracht, weil ihr zu sick, um sie zu besuchen. I still couldn't go. That first Mal.

I'm happy, you haven't noticed, that's why I'm 10. I'm sorry, but I'm still alive, that's the Fall ist. I am grateful for this, but I am grateful for it, and I have forgotten it. You are wary of my connection with Mama. You can't wait to receive your telephone. You have to handle your contents, you should not be able to discuss them further during discussions, and you can also speak with them. She always knows me. I am in three minds of my entfernt. I'm always in awe of my Monat. There is still this Lebenslinie unterbrochen. Mama is completely alone, anxious, confused, and I can, I feel at ease, but I don't fall today. You don't really want to be stern. That is my greatest fear and also the ones that come with such things, which we could not change, have been suppressed.

As a result, I couldn't fall asleep for many nights, but like you still believed - and I believe in wonders. I talked to you every night, often an hour or more, driving late at night or at home while I made dinner. Mostly I let you talk to you, trying to support you and encourage you.

You were lonely, sad, imprisoned in a neve r-ending circle of emotional and physical pain. Recently, you have been particularly reluctant to get off your phone. When my mother was home and felt relatively good, I also called every day, but I usually only talked to you a few minutes, and you gave my phone to my mom, which I talked to much longer.

It was difficult for you to get off your phone for several months. I knew I didn't want to go back on the couch, watch a meaningless TV show or pay more accounts. You said goodbye or said, "It will be enough to this day," and you immediately started a new thread, repeating the cycle, sometimes five or six times. Once, you recently told me, "Help me the handset, because otherwise I will talk further."

Ik hield van, Pap, Methe Heel Mijn Hart. WE MAAKTEN RUZIE EN Ik Schreeuwde Vaak Tegen JE UIT FRUSTRATIE, WETENDE DAT JE HET NOOIT NOOIT NOOIT TER HART NAME NAME EN MeESTAL GEWOON Neeerde en deed je Wilde. IK WIS WANHOPIG JE ME NODIG HAD EN IK PROBEERDE ZO MEDUDIG MOGELIJK TE ZIJN. Maar Er Waren Dagen Dat Ik Te Moe, Gefrustreerd En VOL AREEREREREEREPEN WAS.

ER WAREN DAGEN DAT IK Gefrustreerd Was Als Je Een Uur Aan de telephoon Bleef terwijl ik alice MES MEST BELLEN, Mijn Koue Ambondetten Moest Eten of Zelfs Een's favorite serie kijken. Heel Zelden Onderbrak Ik Ie in Een Gesprek, Hoe Lang Het Ook Duurde, Maar Soms Was ik Gefrustreerd, OOK AL WISH IK Heel Goed Hoe Hard Je Me Nodig Had En Hoe Weinig Je Van Me VROEG.

HOE GRAGE IK JE STEM WEER ZOUER HOREN, OOK AL WAS HET KLAGEN OVER OVER DEELFde Dingen, of Om Meer in Detail Tertellen Over of Ander Onbelangrijk Aspect Van JE DAG. Ik dacht dat iku tenmsto wat meer tijd zou geven. Een Jaar? Twee? God Alleen Wist Het. Er Zou Tijd Zijn. Ik Had Zoveel Meer Met JE TE DELEN, ZOVEEL Meer te Leren Als Het Leven Wat Rustiger Werd.

You taught me how to fish (I didn't need it) and how to hunt (I didn't need it even less) and a lot of things I know about mechanics and electronics. For years we repaired cars together - changing brakes, mufflers, "tuning" in the days when points, capacitors and timing lights meant something. We rebuilt carburetors, power windows and bodywork.

We were friends, good friends. We would go to our favorite restaurants or hardware stores on Sundays when I was single and living at home. You taught me everything I need to know about all the important things in life. Everything else is meaningless papers and a chest of drawers. I knew your few vices and your colossal virtues, and I knew you were the better of the two.

No point of comparison. I could never do what you did. I could never excel in my fields as you have in yours. You were created and righteous in every way, from every angle, for all of life. I didn't always treat you this way, but I always loved you deeply, as anyone who knows us knows. I have often told you this, without any shame.

De wereld is verrijkt door jouw reis. Je laat geen grote rijkdom achter, geen werk dat je overleeft. Je hebt nooit je kwartier in de zon gehad. Maar je was belangrijk. God kent je deugdzaamheid, je absolute integriteit en de zuiverheid van je hart. Ik zal nooit een betere man meteitten. Ik zal van je houden, je missen en je alle dagen van mijn leven in mijn hart meedragen. God zegene je, pap.

If you want to listen to the original English version of this poem, here it is: https://www. youtube. com/channel/UCRUiSZr1_rWDEObcWJELP7w

Dit is een vertaling van de originale Engelse versie die ik schreef direct na het overlijden van mijn vader in februari 2016. Zelfs in de moeilijkeste tijden, lijdend aan zijn eigen zeer ergesige medische aoodeningen, was mijn vader vol liefde en een gemakkelike lach. Ik zal nooit zijn gelijke zien, of die van mijn moeder. Ik heb nog steeds tranen in mijn ogen, net als nu, als ik aan hen denk met veel liefde en een onherstelbaar gevölf van verlies.

When Alvargonzález was a young man, the owner of a mediu m-sized property, which is called wealth and abundance in other countries, he fell in love with a girl at the anniversary of Berlanga and took a year after he met her . The wedding was very rich and everyone you saw remember; The "Tornabodas" that Alvar made in his village were loud; There were bagpipes, drums, flutes, Bandurria and Vihuela, Firencies in the Valencian nature and dances in the Aragon. Alvargonzález lived happily in love for his country. He was born three boys who came to wealth in the country, and when they grew up, he gave them away, one to maintain the vegetable garden, another to guard the sheep, and he gave the youngest to the church. The farmers have a lot of Cain's blood in themselves, and envy led to argument in the farmhouse. The oldest married; Alvargonzález had daught daughters who brought him weed before giving him grandchildren. The greedy in the fields sees the inheritance after death; He doesn't enjoy what he has because he longs for what he hopes. The youngest, who preferred the beautiful maid to the Latin and did not like to dress with his head, hung up his soutaneous nail one day and went to the distant countries; His mother cried and his father gave him a blessing and a heir. Alvargonzalez 'forehead is already folded, the blue shadow of his face is silvered by his beard. He left the house alone on one autumn morning; He didn't have his greyhounds, sharp hunting dogs;

He walked a long way and came to a clear fountain. He lay down on the ground, put his blanket on a stone and slept by the fountain to the lullaby of the water. And Alvargonzález, like Jacob, saw a ladder going from earth to heaven, and he heard a voice speaking to him. But the fairy spinners have put a tuft of black wool between the white silk and the fleeces of gold. Three children are playing at the door of their house; a raven with black wings hops between the older ones. The woman looks on, sews and laughs and sometimes sings. Children, what are you doing? - They look at each other and are silent: “Go to the mountain, my children, and before nightfall, with an armful of steppe, make me a good flame. The wood is piled up in Alvargonzález’s attic; the eldest wants to light it, but the flame does not catch: “Father, the fire will not light, the steppe is wet. His brother comes to help him, throwing splinters and branches on the oak trunks, but the embers die down, and the younger brother comes and lights a fire under the black kitchen clock that lights up the whole house. Alvargonzález takes the youngest in his arms and puts him on his knees: “Your hands make the fire; though you were born last, you are the first in my love. The two older ones wander off to the corners of the dream. Between the two fugitives, an iron axe gleams. Above the bare fields, the full moon, colored with a purple glow, a huge ball, rose. The sons of Alvargonzález walked in silence, and

Who wandered through these countries, was charged in Dauria, captured and killed by the notorious Garrotte. After a few months, his mother died of grief, and those who found her dead say that her hands were lying on her face and hiding her face. The sons of Alvargonzález now have a herd and an orchard, fields with wheat and rye and meadows with fine grass; In the old elm, which was divided by lightning, the beehive, two yoke ox for the plow, a mastiff and a thousand sheep. The blackberries already bloom and the plum trees are white; The golden bees already feed their beehives, and from the nests that crown the church towers, the hoo k-shaped scrambled of the storks out. The elms are already on the street and the poplars on the banks of the streams that are looking for the father Duero, green, the sky is blue, the sno w-free mountains are violet, the land of Alvargonzález will be fulfilled with wealth; He who edited it is dead, but the earth doesn't cover it. The beautiful country of Spain's grumpy, fine and warlike Castile, of long rivers, has a handful of Sierras between Soria and Burgos such as fortresses, such as coat of arms, and Urbión is a coat of arms. The sons of Alvargonzález ride on a steep path on brown mules to take the street from Salduero to Covaleda, under the pine forest of Vinuesa, looking for cattle to return to their village, and start one country with pine forests Long journey, up the duero, and leave the stone arches of the bridge and the hamlet of the idle and lush village of the Indianos behind. The river

The strong pine trees of the forest with their gigantic crowns and its naked roots tied to the stones; The young pine trees with silve r-colored stems and bluish leaves; The old pine trees, covered with white leprosy, moss and gray low that surround the thick trunks, fill the valley and get lost over both slopes juan, the oldest, says: "Brother, whose blas Antonio feeds its cattle near Urbión, have we A long way to go. When we get to Urbión, we can shorten the road back by taking the shortcut to Laguna Negra and going down the Santa Inés-Passet to Vinuesa: “Bad soil and worse way. I swear that I don't want to see them again. Let's end the agreements in Covaleda; Let's spend the night, and at dawn, let's return to the village through this valley, which sometimes those who think of shortcuts go around. In the vicinity of the river rides the brothers and thinks about how the centenary forest, as they move on, increases, and that is increasing. The rocky mountain closes the horizon for them. The water, which jumps, seems to sing or tell: "The land Alvargonzález will be filled with wealth, and the one who has cultivated the country does not sleep underground". Although the greed has a sheep barn to the sheep, chests to the wheat, bags for the coin and itches, it has no hands that can grow the earth, and therefore became a year of abundance followed by a year of poverty. Bloody poppies grew in the fields, the wheat and oatmeal rot, late frost killed the fruits in the orchard, and evil sorcery made the grain axes sick.

It is a winter night. The wind whips up the branches of the poplars. He enters the village, looks for Alvargonzález's house and without setting foot on the ground, he knocks on the door of the house, and the two brothers hear a knock on the door and the hooves of a horse on the stones. The two brothers heard a knock on the door and the hooves of a horse on the stones, and both raised their eyes in alarm and astonishment: "Who is it? Answer," they cried, "Miguel," they answered outside, and it was the voice of the traveler who had gone to distant lands. When the gate opened, the knight rode in on horseback and set foot on the ground. In the arms of his brothers he wept silently for a while, and then he gave his horse to one and the other, his cloak and hat, and in the farmhouse he sought the warmth of the fire. The youngest of the brothers, who had been a boy and adventurer over the seas, and had now become a rich Indian, was dressed at ***** in a hairy velvet suit, fastened at the waist with a wide leather belt, and a thick chain formed a golden loop on his chest. He was a tall, stout man, with large, black eyes full of melancholy; his complexion was dark, and on his forehead he wore disheveled hair; the son of a splendid father, to whom fortune owed love, power, and money. Of the three Alvargonzález, Miguel was the most handsome, for the eldest was disfigured by the bushy frown under his brow, and the second by his restless eyes that did not look at what he saw.

The man who entered has the face of his dead father, with a halo of golden light shining in his white hair. He carries a beam of wood on his shoulder and wields an iron ax. From those cursed fields, Miguel bought a part of his two brothers, who brought a lot of richness from America and, even on bad soil, gold looks better than buried, and more in the hands of the poor than hidden in a clay jar. The Indian went to work the earth with faith and tenacity, and older men returned to work in their Pegujales. The fertile summer has already returned to the fields of Miguel, with huge ears of corn, pregnant of blond grains; And from village to village, it is told as a miracle that the killers have a curse in their fields. The village already sings a song that tells the past crime: “On the edge of the source they murdered him, what a bad death the bad children gave him, they threw his father killed in the bottomless lake, he does not sleep under the land that cultivated the ground ”. Miguel, with his two hunting dogs and armed with his shotgun, towards the blue of the mountains, on a serene afternoon, was walking between the green shells along the road and heard a voice singing: "He has no grave on earth" . Among the pines of the Review Valley, the dead father was taken to the Black Lagoon. ” Alvargonzález's house was an old house, with four narrow windows, separated from the village by a hundred steps and between two giants that, giant sentries, provide shadow in summer and dried leaves in the fall. It is a home of farmers, people, although rich commoners, where home

And on summer nights, when the heat dissipates, you can hear the sweet nightingale singing from the window. There, from the pride of his orchard and the love of his family, Alvargonzález dreamed dreams of greatness. When he saw the laughing figure of his first son in his mother's arms, his head dyed blond by the sun, when the child stretched out his greedy little hands towards the red cherries and purple plums, or on that golden, calm and good autumn afternoon, he thought that man could be happy on earth. Today people sing a song that goes from village to village: "O house of Alvargonzález, what bad days await you; house of murderers, let no one knock on your door!" It is an autumn afternoon. There are no more nightingales on the golden boulevard, the cicada has fallen silent. The last swallows that have not set off will die, and the storks will have flown from their nests in towers and spires. Above Alvargonzález's house the elms leave their leaves behind, torn off by the wind. The three round acacias in the church's atrium still retain their green branches, and the horse chestnuts are shedding their twigs at intervals; the rose bushes are pink again, and the meadows are shining with the joy of autumn. On the slopes and hills, on the banks and in the ravines, the new green alternates with the grass still burnt by summer; the peeled serríos, the bare hills, are crowned with piles of leaden clouds; and under the immense pine grove, between the withered brambles and yellowish

The ploughshare from the bent oak plows in vain; the moat seems to close up again when the guts of the field are split open and the road is made. “When a murderer plows, his work will be hard; rather than a furrow in the ground he will have a wrinkle on his face”. Martin, who was rummaging in the garden, leaned for a moment on the hoe; cold sweat broke out on his face. In the east, behind the garden wall, a full moon shone in a purple glow. Martin's blood froze in horror. The hoe he stuck into the ground was bloody. In the land where he was born, the Indian knew how to settle down; he took a rich and beautiful maiden as his wife. Alvargonzález's property now belonged to him, as the brothers sold him everything: the house, the orchard, the beehive, and the fields. Juan and Martin, the eldest sons of Alvargonzalez, were the sons of Alvargonzalez.

A bisel: A little bit A biseleh: A tiny bit A breyre hob ich: I have no alternative A breyte deye hob'n: To do all the talking (To have the greatest say or authority) A broch!: Oh hell! **** it!!! A curse. A broch tzu dir! A curse on you! A broch tzu Columbus: A curse on Columbus A brocheh: A blessing A chazer bleibt a chazer: A pig remains a pig A chorbn: Oh, what a disaster (Oh ****! a swear word) A choleryeh ahf dir!: A plague on you! (Lit., to wish someone Cholera) A deigeh hob ich: I don't care. I should be worried. A farshlepteh krenk: A chronic ailment A feier zol im trefen: He should burn up! (Lit.: A fire must come to meet him.) Een finstere cholem auf dein kopf und auf dein hent und fiss: (a horrible wish for someone) A dark dream (nightmare) on your head, hands and feet! Een foiler tut in tsveyen: A lazy person must do a task twice A gesheft hob nicht: I don't care A gezunt ahf dein kop!: Good health to you (lit., Good health on your head) A glick ahf dir!: Good luck to you (Sometimes used sarcastically about small pieces of luck) You're absolutely right! Een glick hot dich getrofen!: Big deal! Sarcastic; literally: A piece of luck has befallen you. Een groyser tzuleyger: A big shot (sarcastically) Een grubber yung: A coarse young man A kappore: A catastrophe. A khasuren who is kalleh tsu shayn: A mistake that the bride is too beautiful A klog iz mir!: Woe is me! A klog tzu meineh sonim! A curse on my enemies! A langer lucksh: A tall person (a long noodle) A leben ahf dein kepele: A life on your he

A SHANANDEH UN A Charpeh: A shame and a shame a shitter mogn: loose bowel movements a shtik fleish mit tzvei own: a piece of meat with two eyes (insulting) a shtik naches: a big joy a shtyfer mogn: hides a sof! A sof! Let's put an end to it! Make an end to it! A Tuches un a Halb: a person with a very large backside. (Lit., a back and a half.) A fullf Farlirt Zayne Hor, Ober Nit Zayn Natur: A wolf loses his hair, but is hot. "A leopard cannot change its stains." Abi Gezunt: as long as you are healthy! Achrahyes: Responsibility AFN Gonif Brennt Das Hittel: "He thinks everyone knows he has committed a crime." (The hat of a thief burns) Ahf mir sucked!: I wish it could be said about me! AHF Tsores: In trouble Yenems Tukhes is gut sepatchen: the *** of someone else is easy to slap. AHF zu Lochis: Urgiously (lit: just to get (someone) angry). Ahntoisht: disappointed ahzes ponim: indisputable colleague Aidel: civilized or fussy aidel Potchket: deliciously raised Aidim: Saw of Ainikle: grandchild Aitzeh: Advies Aiver Butelt: Absent in spirit; In the War Alaichem Sholom: to you peace. Is used in response to the greeting Shalom Aleichem. Ale: Bais - alphabet; The first two letters of the Jewish alphabet Alevei! It must happen to me (you)! All Ziben Glicken: Not what it's cracked up to be (all 7 lucky things) Everything in Einem is nisht do bei keine: everything in one (person) can be found in no one. Alrightnik: Someone who has passed Alrightnikeh: female form of "Alrightnik." Alteh maid: spinning