La cruz del diablo de Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. Leyenda Halloween 2019


Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer was not only a great
Writer was also a great sensitive. His pen was sliding beyond the borders
of this life, capturing things that can go unnoticed to most
deadly This story of Becquer enters in the darkness of the unknown and shows us
that the power of evil can be overcome however powerful it may seem.
“The Devil’s Cross by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer” Believe it or not, I care little. My grandfather narrated it to my father, my father
He referred me to me, and I tell you Now, even be just to pass
the time Twilight was beginning to spread its light steam wings over the picturesque
banks of the Segre, when, after a tiring day, we arrived at Bellver, term
of our trip. Bellver is a small town located
at the foot of a hill, behind the which are seen to rise, like the bleachers of a
Colossal granite amphitheater, the steep and nebulous crests of the Pyrenees. The white villages that surround it, dotted
here and there on a rolling sheet of vegetable, they look like a dove side in the distance
who have shot down their flight to quench their thirst in the waters of the riverbank. A bare rock, at whose feet they twist
its course, and on whose top you can still see remote vestiges of construction, he points out
the old dividing line between the county of Urgel and the most important of his fiefdoms. To the right of the tortuous path that leads
at this point, tracing the current of river and following its curves and leafy margins,
A cross is found. The pole and arms are made of iron; round
base on which it rests, marble, and the staircase that leads to it, of dark and badly united
fragments of chairs. The destructive action of the years, which has
Coated the metal, it has broken and eaten away the stone of this monument, between whose crevices
some climbing plants grow getting tangled up to crown it while a
old and burly oak serves as a canopy. I had advanced a few minutes to my
fellow travelers and stopping my squalid ride, contemplated in silence that
cross, mute and simple expression of beliefs and the piety of other centuries. A world of ideas
It clumped to my imagination at that moment. Very light ideas without a specific form,
that joined together, like a visible thread of light, the deep loneliness of those places,
the high silence of the rising night and the vague melancholy of my spirit. Driven by a religious, spontaneous feeling
and indefinable, I mechanically set foot on the ground, I discovered myself and started looking deep down
from my memory one of those sentences that they taught me as a child; one of those
prayers that, when they later escape involuntary of our lips, it seems that
lighten the oppressed chest and similar to the tears relieve the pain, which also
Take these forms to evaporate. He had already begun to murmur when
I suddenly felt that they shook me violently By the shoulders. I turned my face: a man
It was next to me. It was one of our guides, native of the country,
which, with an indescribable expression of terror painted on his face, he fought for
crawl with me and cover my head with the felt that I still had in my hands. My first look, half astonishment, half
of anger, it amounted to an interrogation energetic, although mute. The poor man, without giving up on his efforts to
get away from that place, he replied to her With these words, which I could not understand then,
but in which there was a real accent that overwhelmed me: -For the memory of his mother! At most
sacred that you have in the world, sir, cover your head and stay away more than
in a hurry of this cross! So desperate is you who, not enough help from God,
turn to the devil’s! I remained silent for a while.
Frankly, I thought I was crazy; but continued with equal vehemence: -You look for the border; well then: yes ahead
from that cross you ask heaven to help, the summits of the neighboring mountains
They will get up in one night until invisible stars, just because we don’t find
the line in our whole life. I could not help but smile. -Do you make fun? … Do you think that
It’s a holy cross, like the one on our porch church?… -Who doubts it? -Well you are deceived from medium to medium; why
that cross, except what you have from God, is damn…; that cross belongs to a spirit
evil, and that’s why they call it The Devil’s Cross. -The devil’s cross! – I repeated, yielding
at your request, without realizing myself of the involuntary fear that began to take hold
of my spirit, and that rejected me as a unknown force of that place. The cross
of the Devil! It has never hurt my imagination a more crazy amalgam of two ideas
so absolutely enemies! … A cross … and of the devil! Wow Strength will be
that in reaching the population explain to me This monstrous absurdity. During this short dialogue, our comrades
who had ridden their mounts, we were they gathered at the foot of the cross; I explained
In a few words, what had just happened to me: ride again on my rocker, and the bells
from the parish they slowly called to prayer when we get off in the most hidden and
gloomy of the Bellver hostels. The red and blue flames curled sizzling
along the thick oak trunk that it burned in the wide home; our shadows,
that projected trembling on the blackened walls, dwarfed or took forms
gigantic, according to the bonfire fired glares more or less bright; the glass of elderberry,
pray empty, pray full, and not water like bucket Ferris wheel had turned three times
around the circle we formed together to the fire, and everyone waited impatiently
The story of The Devil’s Cross, which stews of desserts from the frugal dinner we had just finished
of consuming we had been promised, when our guide coughed twice, lay down
At last a drink of wine, cleaned with the back of his hand his mouth and began
in this way: -Long time, long time, I don’t know
how much, but the Moors occupied the largest part of Spain, they were called counts our
kings, and the villas and villages belonged in fief to certain gentlemen who, in turn,
they paid tribute to more powerful others, when it happened what I will refer to you. Concluded this brief historical introduction,
the hero of the party was silent for a few seconds, as to coordinate their
memories, and went on like this: -Well, it is the case that in that remote time
this villa and some others were part of the heritage of a noble baron, whose castle
stately rose for many centuries over the crest of the rock that bathes the Segre,
from which it takes its name. They still testify to the truth of my relationship
some ruined reports that, covered in jaramago and moss, are reached to see on
its summit from the path that leads to this town. I don’t know if, by chance or misfortune, he wanted
the luck that this man, who for his cruelty hated their vassals, and for their
bad qualities not even the king admitted in the Court, nor your neighbors at home, get bored
to live alone with his bad mood and his crossbowmen on top of the rock in which their ancestors
they hung their stone nest. Search your brains night and day
of some distraction of his character, which was quite difficult after
to get tired, as I already was, of moving war on your neighbors, beat your servers
and hang his subjects. On this occasion, the chronicles tell
he came up with an idea, although without a copy happy. Knowing that the Christians of other powerful
nations lent to leave together with a formidable navy to a wonderful country for
conquer the grave of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that the Moors had in their possession, it was determined
to march on your follow up. If you made this idea in order to purge
their faults, which were not few, spilling his blood in such a fair enterprise, or with that of
transplant to a point where its bad tricks did not know, is ignored; but the truth
the case is that, with great contentment of big and small, vassals and peers,
he got as much money as he could, he redeemed his villages of the manor by a thick
amount, and not retaining your property more than the rock of the Segre and the four
castle towers, inheritance of their parents, He disappeared overnight. The entire region breathed freely during
some time, as if waking up from a nightmare. They no longer hung from the trees of their underworld,
instead of fruits, bunches of men; the Village girls were not afraid to go out with
his jug to the head to drink water from the source of the road, not even the shepherds carried
her flocks to Segre on impracticable paths and hidden, trembling to find every revolt
from the trail to the crossbows of his beloved Sir. Thus the space of three years passed;
the story of the evil knight, that only by this name was known, began to belong
to the exclusive domain of the old ones, which in the eternal evenings of winter related them
in a hollow and fearful voice to the amazed boys: mothers scared the little ones
incorrigible or whiny telling them:>, when I am here
I don’t know if one day or one night, if fallen from heaven or aborted from the deep, the
feared sir appeared effectively and as usually said, in flesh and blood, in half
of his old vassals. I give up describing the effect of this unpleasant
surprise. You can figure it out, the better that I paint it, just by telling them that it turned
claiming their sold rights; yes bad he left, worse he returned, and if poor and without credit
he was before leaving for war, I could no longer have more resources than
his unconcern, his spear and a half dozen adventurers so heartless and lost
Like your boss Naturally, the people resisted
to pay tributes that at so much cost had redeemed; but the lord set fire to his
Heredades, to their farmhouses and their harvests. Then they appealed to the king’s justice; but
the lord made fun of the law-letters of the sovereign counts, nailed them in the shutter
from its towers and hung up to the pharaohs of an oak. Exasperated, and finding no other way of
salvation finally they agreed among themselves, they entrusted themselves to Divine Providence
and they took up arms; but the lord gathered to his minions, he called the devil to his aid,
perched on his rock and prepared to the fight. It started terrible and bloody. He fought
with all weapons, everywhere and all hours, with the sword and fire, on the mountain
and on the plain, in the day and during the night. That was not fighting to live: it was living
for fight. In that case, the cause of justice triumphed.
hear how: A dark, very dark night, when I don’t know
I heard neither a rumor on earth nor shone a single star in the sky, the lords of
the fortress, conceited by a recent victory, the spoils were distributed and, drunk
with the liquor vapor, in the middle of the mouth and thunderous orgy, intoned sacrilegious
You will sing for your infernal patron. As I said, nothing was heard around
of the castle, except the echo of blasphemies, that throbbed lost in the gloomy bosom
of the night, as the souls of the condemned wrapped in the folds of the hurricane
from hell. The careless sentries had already set
sometimes his eyes on the villa, which rested silent, and they had fallen asleep without fear
to a surprise, leaning on the thick trunk of his spears, when behold, some
villagers, determined to die and protected by the shadow, they began to climb the enmester
Rock of the Segre, whose top they touched midnight. Once at the top, what was left to do
It was a short time work: the sentinels saved in a single jump the fence that separates the
dream of death; the fire, applied with resin teas to the bridge and rake, it
communicated with the speed of lightning to the walls, and the climbers, favored
because of the confusion and breaking through the flames, ended with the inhabitants
of that den in the blink of an eye eyes Everyone perished. When the next day began to bleach
the tall glasses of junipers, still smoked the scorched debris from the collapsed
towers; and through its wide gaps, sparkling when the light hurt her, and hung on
one of the black pillars of the feast hall, it was easy to spot the dreaded armor
chief, whose corpse, covered in blood and of dust, lay between the torn tapestries
and the hot ashes, confused with the of his dark companions. The time passed; the brambles began to
track through deserted courtyards, ivy to get entangled in the dark bulbs and the
blue bells to rock hanging from the Ruinous battlements. The uneven breaths of
the breeze, the squawking of night birds and the rumor of the reptiles that glided
among the tall grasses, they disturbed only occasionally the silence of the death of
that cursed place; the insepultuous bones of their former dwellers bleached lightning
of the moon, and you could still see the beam of weapons of the Lord of Segre hanging from black
Pillar of the feast salt. No one dared to touch him; but a thousand fables were running
about that abandoned object, ceaseless cause of speech and terrors to those who looked at him
flare during the day, hurt by the light of the sun, or thought they perceived in the high hours
of the night the metallic ones are of his pieces, that collided with each other when he moved them
wind, with a long and sad groan. In spite of all the stories that on purpose
of the armor were forged, and that in voice low the inhabitants repeated to each other
of the surroundings, they did not pass stories, and the only bad positive that resulted
it was then reduced to one more dose of fear that regulate, that each one in itself was striving
in concealing the possible, doing, how to say Usually, guts heart. If the thing had not happened from here, nothing
It would have been lost. But the devil, who to what he seems was not satisfied
of his work, no doubt with God’s permission, and in order to purge some of the region
You blame, he again took action on the matter. From this moment the fables, which until
that time did not pass a vague rumor and without any likelihood, they began
to take consistency and to make day in most likely day. Indeed, it was a few nights that everything
the town had been able to observe a stranger phenomenon. In the shadows, far away, already rising
the twisted slopes of the rock of the Segre, already wandering among the ruins of the castle,
already looming, when it appears, in the air, they saw each other run, cross, hide and turn
to appear to move away in different directions, some mysterious and fantastic lights, whose
provenance nobody knew how to explain. This was repeated for three or four nights.
during the interval of one month, and the confusing villagers looked forward to the result
of those diabolical councils that it certainly didn’t wait long when
three or four burned farmhouses, several missing cattle and the bodies of some
clumsy walkers on the cliffs they put the whole territory on alarm in ten
round leagues. There was no longer any doubt. A band of malefactors
it was housed in the underground of the castle. These, which only lent at the beginning
very late in late and at certain points of the forest that still expands to the day
along the riverbank, they concluded by occupying almost all the mountain passes,
ambush the roads, plunder the valleys and descend like a torrent to the plain,
where, I want this one, I don’t want this one, no They left puppets with heads. The murders multiplied, the girls
disappeared, children were torn of the cribs, despite the regrets of their
mothers, to serve them in diabolical feasts, in which, according to general belief, the vessels
sacred subtracted from the desecrated churches They served as a drink. The terror came to take hold of the spirits
in such a degree, that at the touch of sentences nobody ventured out of his house, in
which was not always believed safe from rock bandits. But who were these? Where were they from
I come? What was the name of his mysterious boss? Here is the riddle that everyone wanted
explain and that nobody could solve until then, although it was observed, of course,
that the armor of the feudal lord had disappeared of the site that you would occupy before and later
several farmers had claimed that the captain of that heartless sheaf marched
to his forehead, covered with one that, if not the same, it resembled him in a whole. How much is repeated, if it is stripped of
that part of fantasy with which bulky fear and complete your favorite creations, nothing
It is supernatural and strange. What more common thing in bandits
that the ferocities with which they distinguished themselves, no more natural than taking over your boss
of the abandoned weapons of Mr. del Segre? However, some revelations made before
to die for one of his henchmen, prisoner in the last fights, they finished filling
the measure, worrying the mood of the most unbelievers Little more or less, the content
His confession was this:>The author of these revelations died with
the mockery smile on the lips and without Regret your guilt. Several of his
the same followed at various times at torture; but the fearsome boss, to whom continuously
new proselytes joined, did not cease in Your disastrous companies. The unhappy inhabitants of the region, and
of more and more boring and desperate, they were not right with the determination that
should be taken to conclude at all with that order of things, every day more unbearable
and sad. Immediate to the villa, and hidden in the background
from a thick forest, I lived at this time, in a small hermitage dedicated to San Bartolomé,
a holy man, of pious customs and copies, whom the people always had
in the smell of holiness thanks to their healthy Tips and accurate predictions. This venerable hermit, whose prudence
and proverbial wisdom entrusted the neighbors of Bellver solving this difficult
problem, after imploring mercy divine through his patron saint, who,
as you will not ignore, meet the devil very closely and on more than one occasion you
has tied very short, advised them to ambush overnight at the foot of the stony
road that winds up the rock in whose top was the castle, commissioning them
at the same time that, already there, they did not use of other weapons to apprehend that of
a wonderful prayer that made them learn by heart and with which the chronicles ensured
that St. Bartholomew had done to the devil Your prisoner The project and its result are put into practice
exceeded how many hopes they had conceived, because the sun of the other day still did not illuminate
the high tower of Bellver, when its inhabitants, gathered in groups in the main square, they were counted
each other, with an air of mystery, how that night, tightly bound and
hands, and on the back of a powerful mule, the famous had entered the population
captain of the bandits of Segre. What arts did the rushers use?
of this company to carry it out, neither nobody was right to explain nor them
they could say it themselves; but the fact was that, thanks to the saint’s prayer or to
courage of his devotees, the thing had happened as he meant. As soon as the novelty began to spread from
word of mouth and from house to house, the crowd He threw himself into the streets with loud noise
and ran to meet at the prison doors. The parish bell called for advice,
and the most respectable neighbors got together in chapter, and everyone waited anxiously
the time the inmate was to appear Anta his improvised judges. These, which were authorized by
the counts of Urgel to be administered by themselves prompt and severe justice over those
evildoers, deliberated a moment, past which sent the criminal to appear
in order to notify you of your sentence. As I said, so in the main square as
in the streets where the prisoner should cross to go to the point where your
judges were, the impatient crowd It boiled like a crowded swarm of bees.
Especially at the prison door, the popular commotion took from growing
proportions And the lively dialogues, The deaf murmurs and the threatening screams
they began to take care of their guards, when, fortunately, the order came from
take out the inmate. When it appears under the massive arch of the
cover of his prison, fully dressed of all weapons and covered his face with the
visor, a deaf and prolonged murmur of admiration and surprise rose from between
the compact masses of the people, which opened with difficulty to give way. Everyone had recognized in that armor
that of Mr. del Segre; that armor object of the darkest traditions while
It was suspended from the ruined walls Of the damn fortress. The weapons were those, there was no doubt.
Everyone had seen the black plume float of its peak in the fighting that a time
they work against their lord; everyone had seen stirring at the breath of the twilight breeze,
a couple of the ivy of the calcined pillar in that hung on the death of its owner.
But who could be the unknown character What was he wearing then? Soon I would know.
At least, that’s how it was believed. The events will say how this hope is frustrated to the
way of many others and why of this solemn act of justice, which should be awaited
the complete clarification of the truth, New and more inexplicable confusions. The mysterious bandit finally penetrated the
Council room, and a deep silence happened to the rumors that will rise from among the
circumstances hearing hearing resonating under the cans vaults of that enclosure the metallic are
of his gold spurs. One of those who composed the court, with a slow and insecure voice,
asked his name, and they all lent the heard with anxiety not to lose a single
word of your response; but the warrior He just shrugged his shoulders slightly,
with an air of contempt and insult that no he could less irritate his judges, those who
they looked at each other surprised. Three times he repeated the question,
that many others got similar or similar reply. – Let the visor rise! Let it be discovered!
Let it be discovered! -They started shouting Villa neighbors present at the event. Than
be discovered! We’ll see if he dares then to insult us with his disdain as now the
It is protected by incognito! -Discover -repeated the same as before
I would speak to him. The warrior remained impassive. -I send you in the name of our authority. The same answer. -In that of the sovereign counts. Not for those. The indignation reached its height, until the
point that one of his guards, throwing himself on the prisoner, whose pertinence in silence would suffice
to hasten the appearance of a saint, he opened violently the visor. A shout from general
surprise escaped from the auditorium, which remained for an instant hurt from an inconceivable
stupor. The thing was not for less. The helmet, whose
iron visor looked partly raised to the forehead, partly fallen on the
bright steel gola, it was empty …, completely empty When the first moment of terror passed,
they wanted to touch him, the armor shuddered slightly and, decomposing into pieces,
He fell to the ground with a thud and strange noise. Most viewers, in sight
of the new prodigy, tumultuously abandoned the room and they went terrified to the
square. The new one was released with the rapidity of thought
among the crowd that waited impatiently the result of the trial, and such was the alarm,
the revolt and the vocería, that no one I doubt about what public voice is
assured; that is, that the devil, to death of Mr. del Segre, he had inherited the
Bellver fiefs. Finally the tumult subsided and he decided
return to a dungeon the wonderful armor. Already in it, four emissaries were dispatched
that, on behalf of the troubled villa, present the case to the count of Urgel
and to the archbishop, those who did not take many days to return with the resolution of these
characters, resolution that as they say, It was brief and compendious. -Hold up -les
they said- the armor in the main square of the villa, that if the devil occupies it, strength
He will be leaving or hanging with her. Delighted the inhabitants of Bellver with so
ingenious solution, they met again on advice, they sent a pitchfork in
the square and when the crowd already occupied their avenues, they went to jail by
weapons, in corporation and with all solemnity that the importance of the case required. When the respectable entourage reached the massif
arch leading to the building, a man pale and broken he threw himself on the floor
in the presence of the stunned circumstances, exclaiming with tears in his eyes: -Sorry, gentlemen, sorry! -Sorry! For whom? said some.
For the devil that lives inside the armor from Mr. del Segre? “For me,” he continued in a trembling voice,
unhappy, in whom everyone recognized the warden from prisons-, for me … Because the
weapons … have disappeared. Upon hearing these words, the astonishment was painted
in the face of how many were in the porch, which, mute and motionless, would have
remained in the position they were in god knows how much if the following relationship
the guardian would not have made them group around to listen greedily. “Forgive me, gentlemen,” said the poor warden.
forgive me and I will not hide anything from you; even if be against me. Everyone was silent, and he continued
So: -I will never be right to agree; but
is it the case that the history of empty weapons I always found a fable woven in
favor of some noble character whom high reasons of public convenience
they did not allow to discover or punish. In this belief I was always, belief that no
I could less confirm the immobility in which they were since for the second
once they brought back the jail brought from the Council. In vain one night and another, wishing to surprise
its mystery, if there were mysteries in them, I got up little by little and applied and heard
to the interstices of the fervent gate of his dungeon: not a rumor was perceived. In
vano procure observarlas a través de un pequeño agujero producido en el muro. Arrojadas sobre
un poco de paja, y en uno de los mas oscuros rincones, permanecían un día y otro descompuestas
e inmóviles. Una noche, por último, aguijoneado por la curiosidad y deseando convencerme por
mi mismo de que aquel objeto de terror nada tenía de misterioso, encendí un linterna,
bajé a las prisiones, levanté sus dobles aldabas y, no cuidando siquiera (tanta era
mi fe en que todo no pasaba de un cuento) de cerrar las puertas tras mí, penetré en
el calabozo. Nunca lo hubiera hecho. Apenas anduve unos pasos, las luz de mi linterna
se apagó por sí sola y mis dientes comenzaron a chocar y mis cabellos a erizarse. Turbando
el profundo silencio que me rodeaba, había oído como un ruido de hierros que se removían
y chocaban al unirse entre las sombras. Me primer movimiento fue arrojarme a las puertas
para cerrar el paso; pero al asir sus hojas sentí sobre mis hombros una mano formidable
cubierta con un guantelete, que, después de sacudirme con violencia, me derribó sobre
el dintel. Allí permanecí hasta la mañana siguiente, que me encontraron mis servidores
falto de sentido y recordando sólo que después de mi caída había creído percibir confusamente
como una pisadas sonoras, la compás de las cuales resonaba un rumor de espuelas, que
poco a poco se fue alejando hasta perderse. Cuando concluyó el alcaide reinó un silencio
profundo al que se siguió luego un infernal concierto de lamentaciones, gritos y amenazas. Trabajo costó a los más pacíficos el contener
al pueblo que, con la novedad, pedía a grandes voces la muerte del curioso autor de su nueva
desgracia. Al cabo logróse apaciguar el tumulto y comenzaron
a disponerse a una nueva persecución. This obtuvo también un resultado satisfactorio. Al cabo de algunos días, la armadura volvió
a encontrarse en poder de sus perseguidores. Conocida la fórmula, y mediante la ayuda
de San Bartolomé, la cosa no era ya muy difícil. Pero aun quedaba algo por hacer, pues en vano,
a fin de sujetarla, la colgaron de una horca; en vano emplearon la más exquisita vigilancia
con el objeto de quitarle toda ocasión de escarparse por esos mundos. En cuanto a las
desunidas armas veían dos dedos de luz se encajaban y, piano pianito, volvían a tomar
el trote ya emprender de nuevo sus excursiones por montes y llanos, que era una bendición
del cielo. Aquello era el cuento de nunca acabar. En tan angustiosa situación, los vecinos
se repartieron entre si las piezas de la armadura, que acaso por centésima vez se encontraba
en sus manos, y rogaron al piadoso eremita que un día los iluminó con sus consejos
decidiera lo que debí hacerse con ella. El santo barón ordenó al pueblo una penitencia
general. Se encerró por tres días en el fondo de la caverna que le servía de asilo,
y al cabo de ellos dispuso que se fundieses las diabólicas armas, y con ellas y algunas
sillares del castillo del Segre se levantase una cruz. La operación se llevó a término, aunque
no sin que nuevos y aterradores prodigios llenasen de pavor al ánimo de los consternados
habitantes de Bellver. En tanto que las piezas arrojadas a las llamas
comenzaban a enrojecerse, largos y profundos gemidos parecían escarparse de la ancha hoguera,
de entre cuyos troncos saltaban como si estuvieran vivas y sintiesen la acción del fuego. A
tromba de chispas rojas, verdes y azules danzaban en la cúspide de sus encendidas lenguas y
se retorcía crujiendo como si una legión de diablos cabalgando sobre ellas, pugnasen
por libertar a sus señor de aquel tormento. Extraña, horrible fue la operación en tanto
que la candente armadura perdía su forma para tomar la de una cruz. Los martillos caían
resonando con un espantoso estruendo sobre el yunque, al que veinte trabajadores vigorosos
sujetaban las barras del hirviente metal, que palpitaba y gemía al sentir los golpes. Ya se extendían los brazos del signo de nuestra
redención, ya comenzaba a formarse la cabecera, cuando la diabólica y encendida masa se retorcía
de nuevo como una convulsión espantosa y, rodeándose al cuerpo de los desgraciados
que pugnaban por desasirse de sus abrazos de muerte, se enroscaba en anillos como una
culebra o se contraía en zigzag como un relámpago. El constante trabajo, la fe, las oraciones
y el agua bendita consiguieron, por último, vencer al espíritu infernal y la armadura
se convirtió en una cruz. Esa cruz es la que hoy habéis visto, ya
la cual se encuentra sujeto el diablo, que le presta su nombre. Ante ella, ni las jóvenes
colocan en el mes de mayo ramilletes de lirios, ni los pastores se descubren al pasar, ni
los ancianos se arrodillan, bastando apenas las severas amonestaciones del clero para
que los muchachos no la apedreen. Dios ha cerrado sus oídos a cuantas plegarias
se le dirigen en su presencia. En el invierno, los lobos se reúnen en manadas junto al enebro
que la protege para lanzarse sobre las reses; los bandidos esperan a su sombra a los caminantes,
que entierran a su pie después que los asesinan, y cuando la tempestad se desata, los rayos
tuercen su camino para liarse, silbando, al asta de esa cruz y romper los sillares de
su pedestal.

11 thoughts on “La cruz del diablo de Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. Leyenda Halloween 2019

  • Feliz inicio de semana amigos y por anticipado les deseo un feliz Halloween 2019 y día de los muertos. Para estas fechas escogí esta leyenda de Gustavo Adolfo Bécque. Espero les guste

  • Hola!
    Una leyenda estupenda muy acorde para las fechas próximas.
    Por supuesto dejo mi pulgar arriba.
    Sigo escuchando.
    Saludos 😘💛😘

  • Splendid, I really enjoyed it!, See this New Album 'Monish Jasbird – Death Blow', channel link www.youtube.com/channel/UCv_x5rlxirO-WKjLIyk6okQ?sub_confirmation=1 , you might like 🙂

  • Hola mi bella amiga gracias igualmente le deseo una feliz y bendecida semana… gracias por esa linda leyenda gracias amiguita besos 😘😘😘🤗

  • Muy bella leyenda y tu voz muy preciosa, gracias amiga por compartir, un fuerte abrazo 🤗👏🏼👍👍✨👏🏼👏🏼🌹👈🏻

  • Gracias amiga por tus deseos y claro que es fantástica esta leyenda para esta temporada. Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer, siempre nos sorprende. En la vida real existen personas igual del malvada como el señor del Castillo del Segre y personas buenas como el de la Ermita.
    Excelente narración amiga! Feliz noche y un abrazo

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *