Photo Of The Day 07.02.2011 "If I Could Talk My Stones"

For years I rebuilt. My towers were crumbling, some of the side walls, shattered. They made hard work of research, to be able to gather the information I need to be practically the same, as it looked in my years of splendor. Now I visit for a small entrance. Dreamers and romantics who imagine medieval stories by walking the halls of stone. Scholars and historians. School children ... this is the worst, running around, wearing their road shoes, the tired steps leading to my battlements. And they all dump their flashes and dry their eyes open wide, not just imagine the wonderful stories that could tell each of my stones. Among the more solid walls of this fortress, wrote important chapters in the history of mankind. At the fireside of the main hall were planned battles. In some of the bedrooms is the hottest love consummated and no less sordid planned revenge. I've been waiting a day like today, many centuries. Look closely to visitors wishing to discover a spirit, pure enough to share with him some of the chronicles that I have to tell.

Innocent, to believe what you show. Strong, to endure the violence that his eyes with the presence and personality to pass on to future generations without distorting it or take away value. Today I found that pure heart, who want to donate my legacy. It will not be easy, because it must be transported to each of the moments of time in which events occurred, to see with their own eyes to believe. The teacher had promised an unforgettable day and for her, of course, I was being. Listen very carefully, all the explanations of the "sign" as they called it. It was his tutor in the public school people. By the route to one of the towers conical slate roof, topped with a pointed spire, the small group stayed behind. Pensive, I watched the cold stone walls, the height of the room, the wooden beams tapered drawing the skeleton. His imagination flew and flew and became the instrument requires that the castle had so long esperando.Sin realizing it, was surrounded by soldiers, knights and maidens. He looked and found wearing a curious dress. Two dresses, a coat and cap.

Her long hair below the waist, head adorned with a garland of flowers. His hands were tied by the wrists, Dolores, rested on his pretty coat. It was cold. The air streamed threatening fire in the fireplace, which responded with loud crackling. They were in a very large room, there were tapestries decorating the walls. Stay strong smell pervaded by a mixture of smoke, bad skin tanned, roast meat and sour wine. Brightening, the distant sound of the bagpipe and the dulzimer. After a few minutes, he realized that somehow had been projected to the XII century. Trying to in amazement listened to a big man, disheveled approached her defiantly .- You will marry the Duke, by hook or by crook! Shocked, he answered without just be aware of her words. It was like witnessing the scene from outside, but experiencing it firsthand. - Father, do not consent to the marriage. Before death! .- Damn brat!. You will not ruin the agreement with the duke your whims of love and happiness. You will do what you order!. Upload it to the North Tower! No blankets or fire.

A few days of cold and hunger will change her mind .- No, no, love!. I beg for mercy! Father. She screamed as she writhed on the floor trying to escape from the hands of the soldiers, who trailed only once arriba.Una stairs in the tower, sitting in a corner. He heard a voice that made him understand. - Hey little. I am the spirit of the castle. I have chosen you, to help me .- But ... I understand nothing. Please tell me what's going on, I was hiking with my classmates and suddenly ...- What happens is that I need to live the adventures and tragedies that have seen my walls, to stop being viewed as a mere object decorative. I wish someone would convey all this, having lived passion. And that's you. Calm, always give you back your time, time that nothing bad will happen. I have spoken too many times the phrase, "If my walls could talk." It's time to break the silence. You will do it for me. - Do I have choice, perhaps? - No, replied the cold stones at the very moment when the trapdoor of the sturdy wooden door opened to launch into the room a small bowl with some food .- Come girl, forces need to withstand the cold night!, between laughter bellowed the guard.

Making efforts to accept that this was not a nightmare, took the bowl in his hands. It contained a sort of hot molasses which had a foul smell. Between tears and arcades taken with a pinch of your fingers and that concoction into her mouth. To be continued ...

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Photo: Edurne Iza

Text: Iza Otamendi Onintza

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