Question

La leyenda del jinete sin cabeza en ingles , .

Answer 1

The Headless Horseman
And the silent twilight huddled between the sweet meditation in which the plain used to be ecstatic. The birds hurt with their cheerful symphony the majestic stillness of the afternoon. Far away where the sun seems to burn among the burning cauldron of the distance, a group of herons are copying their fine plumage in the wonderful colors of the exotic landscapes, in whose clouds there are presaged tints of melancholic sorrows. The whole atmosphere seems to keep moments of holy meditation, and in the flowery tops of the centenary trees, the wind picks up its bristly hair.
It's summer. And the whole plain is parched and lonely, with that sad melancholy. It has been a wonderful sunset, and soon its poetic beauties will devour the night that will soon arrive. There in the corridor of the Treasury, the Old Master reads with devout attention the newspaper of the day, flying from time to time puffs of pipe smoke.
They are past six in the afternoon; This looks for a bit of fresh air. In the corrals, the cattle wait to come to rest and from time to time hear the last shouts of the savannas that herd a tip of milking cattle. The peonage has been concentrated in the kitchen and sitting around a rough and blackened table savor with appetite the snack of the day.
The congos with their organ notes do not stop singing the great allegro.
All the plain is populated with shadows and in the corridors of the immense large house of the hacienda the lanterns throw their coppery light. Patricia, the eldest daughter of the Patron, has approached her side a little nervous, because Rosendo, one of the savannas had just told, a terrethic narrative, of which they usually tell him when the journey ends.
-What's wrong with you, my daughter? The old man asked, putting his pipe away from his mouth for a while, with that seriousness of a respectable man.
-Look dad, that Rosendo was counting in the kitchen that frighten here, that comes all the nights to the corridor a rider without a head.
A roguish smile let slip from between his thick mustache.
- Do not be a daughter, they are superstitions; they are legends that these men usually count themselves in their leisure time, to pass the time.
-But dad, said the girl, why is this?
-I'll tell you, listen to me.
-I was quite young, my grandmother told me that in those golden days when the hacienda had all the comforts of the case, pe celebrated with great pomp the feast of the birth of the Child God, of course it was a prepared party, where no one the large crowd left on an empty stomach. Well, Luciano, boy of good feelings, son of the Patron of the hacienda, had a girlfriend, which he loved very much, for which he was making preparations for the wedding, whose date would be December 25, when he would marry Carmel ita, a beautiful little girl, the flower of the plain, who had given the fragrance of her perfume to a heart in love.
José, sabanero endowed with bad feelings, who worked in one of the haciendas close to this, being also in love with Carmelita and full of jealousy, knowing that this would soon marry Luciano, decided one afternoon to go to "ispiar" to the crossing of the way of the square, and thus satiate his criminal and cruel instinct.
In fact, Luciano, knowing nothing of what was going on, returned happily to the hacienda, when, as he passed by, José, without chewing any word, threw himself upon the unfortunate boy, unloading his criminal weapon and cutting off his head.
The criminal fled and there was no further knowledge of his whereabouts. That's why my daughter when on moonlit nights and calm, and the plain sleeps between mysteries and secrets, you hear the distant trotting of a horse that comes near the hacienda, then you hear someone dismount, enter the corridor after walking For a long time he reassembles and moves away through the plain.
Those who have seen that it is a rider without a head, is the same one who in the past was the victim of that passionate tragedy; is the soul of Luciano who seeks between the mystery of death and the reality of life, the beautiful woman of his dreams lost on the eve of his wedding.
-One time, little daughter, this is the legend that Rosendo wanted to tell the companions. Now, go quietly to sleep, I will follow you, and forget that superstition, and may God be with you.
Patricia after hearing that story, gave a kiss to her father and step by step plunged into a deep silence, went in search of rest. In the silleroy hall, a sabanero to the beat of an old guitar, he ruminated his sorrows on the mournful notes of a song, sad and sentimental, a song that takes and flies in the cold breeze of the plains to be perched in the flowered tops of the century-old trees, song that makes reach the soft bed, where the beloved woman sleeps, of her dreams.

Answer 2

Headless Horseman

Today's short legend talks about a mysterious rider, who was looking for his head in the darkest nights near the town of Sleepy Hollow. You may have heard of the headless horseman, but do you know his story? Said being was nothing more than the wandering spirit of a German soldier, who had come to American lands long ago to fight against American troops.

After being defeated, the story tells that his head was cut off and after dying in foreign territory, that man's soul could never rest in peace, not until he found his head.

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