The little town hung from the steeply cliff on the rugged walls of the mountain, all inhabitants were excited because this day was the Annual Spring Fair.
People was enjoying the merriment at hand in a place where life was hard and difficult.
From the low terraces behind the peaks, where small farms developed their trades, the owner of one of them came to pickup his new wife, an unknown woman whom he met by mail and decided to ask her to become his companion in life, proposal that was accepted by the female, as was usual in those places and times.
They expended the day in the Fair, near the end of the day it was decided to get back to the farm before sundown. The man attached his mule and donkey to the old wagon, so they started the trip sitting one beside the other.
After a while of marching, the mule sat and refused to keep going. The farmer got down the wagon and cajoled the animal into following the track. He climbed the wagon again, not without warning: "Mule, this is the first".
Some miles ahead, the mule decided to stop again, making the farmer to come down and repeat his work until the mule decided to obey. The farmer told the animal: "Mule, this is the second."
Not many miles ahead, again the mule sat down and refused to follow the farmer goading. Finally, the man unhook the mule from the wagon, went to the back of the vehicle, came back with a big gun and saying: "Mule this is the third" killed the animal with a close shot.
While he climbed back to the driving seat, the woman could not stop her from telling him how terrible it was what he had done, to kill a perfect valuable animal, when he could have tied the mule to the back making it go and so keep the poor animal, since it do not understand what it was doing, maybe it needed only a bit of training to know what was its job, and besides now letting the poor donkey to make all the job to drag the wagon!
When the woman stopped to caught air, the farmer looked her deeply into the eyes and said: "Woman, this is the first!".
The music is a fragment of "Red River Valley" composed by Walter Colborn.
There was this girl from Orinoco,
Whose boyfriend was a bit 'loco',
She used him as a yoga mat,
'Cause he was a lad quite fat,
And she could jump on him 'poco'.
The music is a fragment of "Crazy cool music "
composed and performed by BoA.
The uncertain dark cloak of night brought a soft trembling of the infinite.
The deep silence of time was put aside by the Eternal Song, having as witness a small point of stellar light brightening the cold landscape while playing with the weightless shadows of the low hills. It was a star with the bright of the interlude that define the borders of reality.
The occasional bleating of some lonely lamb of the mountain flocks punctuated the quiet wait for the moment chosen for the Mystery to touch the bucolic place giving life to a vibration that would move toward the future until lose itself in the last tones of Creation.
It happened!
No, never happened!
This is the marvel of the sense of a mystery of faith or disbelief!
A flimsy load which, as an arcane gift, live or does not exist in each of the human beings who dwell on Earth.
So the scale will always have its weighting plates full of believers on one side and of disbelievers on the other side, giving life to a strange oscillation in probabilities which only will show the truth in different ways: person by person, or jointly when following the design of time and entropy, the personal moment of dissolving into nothing be fulfilled, or Chaos came back to sit on the throne of the Universe, or finally the Wonder of The Eternal Promise be a reality.
Meanwhile, on the slopes of that small country, the question keeps its secret.
Was it the wail of a new born child facing his first breath of life, or was it just another bleating of the sheep on the hills?
The music is a fragment of "Stabat Mater" composed by Giovanni Pergolessi, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra led by Claudio Abbado, and sung by Margaret Marshall, Soprano and Lucia Valentini Terrani, Contralto .
My dream is dark indigo,
Tucked into lengthy cries, Hid along the dazedness,
Of gloomy and doleful thresholds.
Your mist of silk and satin,
Pour white and sweet dawns,
And in the curving of your lips,
The crimson of your smile,
Rescue softly my soul
From the oniric suffering,
Waking in arms of love,
in an earthly demented frenzy
He leaves the cave and observes the vegetable garden deteriorating.
His wife is very busy attending the new child, just born a few days before, and he must hunt if they want to eat.
Everything will rot in the garden! What could he do?!
Looking around he sees one of his neighbors who lives under the big ferns trying busily to get some limp, almost withered leaves of wild lettuce. Poor man! he has no dwelling place nor even a decent morsel to keep him alive... What if...?
He approaches the poor man and offers him to share a daily coleslaw and some meat in exchange for tending the garden. The man accepted.
