Miguel Esparza
I left a great industry
they call it Saint George,
framed on the outskirts
of our historic Játiva.
I don't know where I was going
nor what path was he walking.
what I do know well, that the car
had a good run
as fearing to be late
to something you needed.
Will it take us long to arrive??
-Just a little bit missing.
A town, Two towns, as when the mighty sun humbles itself;
and we crossed through Albaida
like a bird that flies
when he spreads his wings.
And this beautiful city?
-It is Onteniente who passes.
High altitude mountain ranges,
steep roads,
dangers in the abysses
and many gear changes,
They were the eternal adventure
who heroically marched
along the routes of the road
looking for the end of his desires.
The engine was bordering
those high mountains
until we reach the summit
of a typical mountain,
what a view from afar, era
like a cluster of houses.
There was in the very center
a small “Giralda”
that was born among the rocks
like the root of a vine,
decorating with its leaves,
curls of beautiful garlands,
the grains of that cluster
that looked like silver.
It was the town of Bañeres,
what an outfit I expected
to the image of Saint George
to surrender to your plants.
The car pressed its brakes
interrupting the march.
And in the deep silence
that reigned among us,
murmurs could be heard
of the star in the distance
that blowing gently
in our hatred he exclaimed:
Molina, get out of the car
that Bañeres already awaits you
to start the event
most sublime of the program.
The Holy Mass is going to begin
with collegiate rites
and your beloved Parish
with great pride he claims you.
Come on then, Gregorio, to the temple
that you have reserved there
a chair, coated
of crimson and emerald.
Heritage legacy
of love and perseverance
for all who are
which one you, faithful to their homeland.
And we go to the Church,
all of it illuminated.
There the priests
of Chasuble and Dalmatics
ready to start
to this Sovereign Festival.
and close to them, very close,
presiding with his sword
the Brave Saint George
with the dragon to his plants
A beautiful song began
of Gregorian music
that perfumed the atmosphere
of the Sacred Liturgy.
And then the orchestra played
mixed between white voices
that illuminated the Temple
with the light of new lamps.
They were like cherubs
the children who sang there
that religious song
that reached our soul.
And what a scent from heaven
The sweet and clear harmony
that made the violins
while the children sang.
Pagan party
How can I forget, forget,
from Bañeres my adventures,
if it was like a sigh for me
of love, that morning?
The general turn
of a good set of bells
they grouped us together again
In the center of the square.
What was there to witness?
the troupe parade
and hear a pasodoble
that this day was released.
There all the flags
raised above the wind,
shining among its colors
embroidered with taste and grace.
One of pure garnet,
another in emerald green,
with the white of the Moors
and black of the pirates,
to highlight better
the Red and Yellow Flag
who was among the Christians
protected with their weapons.
The women wore them
with the greatest elegance,
some dressed as blackberries
and the others are Christian,
forming the pure essence
of our beloved Spain.
That the blackberries seemed
those own slaves
who passed through the doors
of our historic Alhambra.
And the Christians, not less,
with the Cross of Calatrava,
the heroines of triumph
in our hard battles.
How can I forget
this emotion that overwhelms me
yes I am always living it
in my hours of nostalgia?
If it seems like yesterday
when everyone shined
the rich silk suits
what the troupes wore.
If I still see the Captains
gold and silver settings
gallantly at their posts
moving his white sword.
And to the Moors and Christians
with its alpaca decorations
bright like the moon
and the sun that shone on us.
The Municipal Band
of Baths, I expected
at the door of the Temple
forming in front of the stands.
What had to be received
at the foot of the ordinances
to the Illustrious City Council
that was finally approaching.
Civil authorities,
military and ecclesiastical
that at a ceremonious pace
and very safe, they advanced.
In front of those musicians
Don Oscar Tordera was there
wielding his baton
in gold and silver rivets,
which he later gave me
with firm and clear decision,
offering me the mandate
supreme of that band.
Seeming so much honor
that although I could accept it
out to have the joy
of being the one who combined
Molina and his Bañeres
with the ties of this march.
That being humble and simple,
he carried in his bowels
the hope of love
lit in strong flames.
I never saw again, best
way to interpret it.
The vibrating of trumpets
It was like the guard
from that castle, at the summit
from the highest mountain.
And the sound of the clarinets
like a sigh from the mistress
that when thrown by the wind
singing couplets, cried.
Well its sweet melody
reflected the longing
How do you feel about your Bañeres?
far from his tender homeland,
the heart of Molina
when he cries, laugh and sing.
At the end of the conquest
of this unexpected glory,
the women applauded,
the men were excited.
And the children who ran
frolicking around the square
everyone shouted in chorus:
¡Viva, long live our band!
a few moments later
people were crowding
to leave free passage
to the troupe parade,
that to the sound of some pasodobles
they happily marched.
Where would they go? To the Hermitage
which is where the soul rests
of Mary Magdalene,
to pray for our country?
Or perhaps to the scene of the event
of the horse and the sword
to beg Saint George
value in the Christian faith?
No; who went to the Abbey
where this day is not missing
the Moors and the Christians
together with the people en masse,
accompanying the Minister
who occupied the Holy Chair.
I stayed meditating
As they walked away...
And looking up to the sky
devotedly, exclaimed:
Bless this day
of light, of faith and hope
what she achieved with her beauty
make me cry.
Because, how to forget it
if even I lack breath
when I want to remember
that happy morning?
If I was lost one day,
look for me among the mountains
that you will find me in Bañeres
contemplating its walls
