Saturday 16 April 2016

“Leyenda de Fernán Antolinez y la Virgen del Ribero” by Unknown Writer (in Spanish)




Por el año de 978 el Conde Don Vela, con su hueste, acompañando al ejército de Orduan, lugarteniente del primer ministro de Hisem II, entró por tierras de Osma y San Esteban, con ímpetu arrollador, hasta que cerca de esta villa le derrotaron por completo las tropas aliadas del Conde Garci Fernández y del Rey Don Sancho de Navarra.
            Referente a este hecho, cuenta la tradición, que el caballero Fernán Antolínez yendo en la mañana de Pascua a incorporarse en las huestes del Conde de Castilla Garci Fernández, oyó tocar a misa en el templo de Nuestra Señora del Ribero y entrando a oír el Santo sacrificio dejó el caballo amarrado a la puerta del atrio. Salió después de haber oído tres misas y al tomar el caballo y las armas para dirigirse al campamento le anunciaron se había realizado la batalla quedando victoriosas nuestras tropas.
            Pensando que atribuirían a cobardía su tardanza quedó indeciso de presentarse al Conde... pero se resolvió a hacerlo, recibiendo la agradable sorpresa que el Conde le dio, al saludarle, con estas palabras: «¡Por ti hemos tenido feliz día, Pascual! ¡Vivas muchos añosl».
            Desde entonces cambió su nombre haciéndose llamar ¡Pascual Vivas!, en memoria de este fausto acontecimiento. Según la Crónica General y el Romancero, mientras Fernán Antolínez permaneció en el templo del Ribero, asistiendo a la misa y pidiendo a Nuestra Señora su protección un mensajero divino, un ángel del cielo tomó la forma del piadoso caballero y esgrimiendo sus brillantes armas derribó al jefe de los infieles en el paso del Vado de Cascajar.El hecho sucedió, no en el Convento de Santa Olalla, según afirman algunos, porque desde él no se podía ver la pelea, como dice la Historia general, sino en el de Nuestra Señora del Ribero, que está encima del Vado.
            Don Lorenzo de Sepúlveda inmortalizó este milagro, que hizo la Virgen del Ribero para librar de la afrenta al caballero Antolínez, componiendo un canto de gesta publicado en el Romancero.
            Cuando murió Antolínez dejó encargado que lo enterra sen en el Templo de Nuestra Señora del Ribero. El epitafio del sepulcro dice así. "Aquí yace ¡Vivas Pascual! cuyas armas lidiaban oyendo misa...".   

Friday 15 April 2016

Speeach of Senior Chief Petty Officer Edward C. Byers, Jr. When He Received the Congressional Medal of Honor (in English)



 United States, March 1, 2016.


Thank you. Good afternoon everyone. I’ve realized throughout my life that time is the most precious commodity you have, and I sincerely thank you all for your time today. I will speak just long enough to give credit and recognition to the heroes in my life and to those who deserve to know that they are the reason I am standing here today. Those heroes are my family, my faith, and the brotherhood.
Family is the reason I’m able to do this job, and it’s also the reason to live, and to return home safely. Madison, my incredible wife; Hannah, my beautiful daughter: this could not have been possible without your resiliency and love. Your strength in my absence is something I’ve always admired and respected. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I would never forget how I returned home from long times away. You’d be waiting to pick me up, sometimes in the middle of the night, waiting to give me a hug and a kiss. Especially you, Hannah. I would not be the man that I am if it were not for the two of you. You are my heroes. I love you.
            Hand in hand with my family is my faith. While it had a more quiet aspect in my life, it has always played a significant role. I grew up Catholic and continue to grow in my faith, thanks especially to my brother Trevor. He taught me to turn my heart and soul towards Christ when I have strayed to lost my way. Prayer has always provided calm amidst chaos for me.
            On my first deployment to Iraq some eleven years ago, I arrived in country and I saw another SEAL standing there with a St. Michael the Archangel patch on his shoulder. I’m not sure what drew me to it, but I walked up to him and asked him if I could have it. He was leaving the combat zone and made it through a safe deployment, so he was absolutely willing to give it to me. He handed it to me without hesitation. I’ve worn that patch on my kit on every single mission I’ve ever been a part of, and I prayed the St. Michael prayer while moving in the toughest missions I faced. And it does start by saying, “St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle and be our protection.
            On that day in December 2012—the day you’ve heard recounted several times about my team, and the way we carried out the mission to rescue an American hostage—on that day just like every day, I prayed. I prayed on my way to the target, and again, I prayed over my friend Nicholas Checque, for his soul, as he gave his life to save another American. Nick Checque was a warrior, brother, and a friend. I know I’ve said this repeatedly since this has started, but this award in inseparable from his death. Nick embodied the brotherhood. Nick Checque embodied what it meant to be a Navy SEAL: he was hard as nails, resilient; a “never quit, never fail” mentality. Nick, along with the rest of our team, carried out some of the most difficult and dangerous missions our country could have asked us to do. Nicholas paid the ultimate sacrifice doing what he loved. On the battlefield, because this is what you brothers do, they will lay down their life for you, if they have to.
            We are again reminded this morning of the continued sacrifices the men and women of our nation make. The hotel which many of us are staying overlooks Washington D.C., the Pentagon, and Arlington National Cemetery. As the sun came up over the city, an unfamiliar, almost alarming sound reverberated through the air and a layer of thick, light-gray smoke, covered our nation’s capitol like a security blanket. The cannons fired and shook, probably some of you, to the core because you were hearing the sound of sacrifice. I, along with many of my teammates, have been to many funerals at Arlington—probably more than we should at our age in our life. We have seen too many good men buried. So many may ask, “what is it that keeps you going? How are you standing here after such loss?” The answer is, undoubtedly, without question, the brotherhood.
            I saved the brotherhood for last. I want to emphasize that I am no different from any one of my teammates. I am certain that any on of them would have taken the same exact actions I did that day. I’ve seen countless heroic acts in my time working with the nations most elite operators. I feel sense of responsibility with the recognition that has been bestowed upon me. My brothers who are still fighting, who are still in the shadows, deserve to share the spotlight. We are a community of quiet professionals and those men would not expect or seek recognition for their actions. I probably wear this trident to try to represent the brotherhood. And now I’ve been welcomed into another group of exceptional military heroes.
            I look at the names in the Hall of Heroes, and to the brave men right in front of me here, and realize a tremendous amount of bravery that flows through our American veins. Freedom is in large part paid by blood, sweat, and tears. I’ve never imagined my life would lead me here. I’m truly humbled to represent the Navy and the Navy Special Warfare community. My only desire is that my representation is something my brothers who I served with would be proud of, because the deed is all, not the glory.
            May God bless you, and may St. Michael the Archangel protect our warriors in battle. Long live the brotherhood. Thank you.

Thursday 14 April 2016

"The Bald Man and the Fly" by Aesop (translated into English)

       There was once a Bald Man who sat down after work on a hot summer's day. A Fly came up and kept buzzing about his bald pate, and stinging him from time to time. The Man aimed a blow at his little enemy, but acks palm came on his head instead; again the Fly tormented him, but this time the Man was wiser and said:
 
    "You will only injure yourself if you
    take notice of despicable enemies."

Wednesday 13 April 2016

St Bernard and Constantine by Ailbe Luddy (translated into Portuguese)



            Certo dia, quando São Bernardo se dirigia para a corte do Conde Teobaldo, deparou-se-lhe um grupo de soldados que conduziam um prisioneiro ao cadafalso, para enforcá-lo.
            Vendo a cena, apoderou-se S. Bernardo da corda com que era conduzido o condenado, e fez esta estranha proposta aos verdugos:
            — Entregai-me este criminoso, e executá-lo-ei com as minhas próprias mãos.
            Naquele momento aproximou-se o conde. O seu espanto foi profundo ao ver o Santo, a quem estimava como pai, entre o assassino e os oficiais da justiça. Ficou perplexo ao escutar a petição do amigo:
            — Venerável pai, que significa isto? Por que pretendeis salvar a vida de um homicida que merece a morte centenas de vezes? É um incorrigível filho de Satanás, e o melhor serviço que podemos prestar-lhe é privá-lo da vida. Os interesses da sociedade exigem a sua morte.
            — Sei que este homem é merecedor da morte, e não tenciono deixá-lo partir sem punição. Ao contrário, quero submetê-lo a um castigo severo e perpétuo. Vós o suspenderíeis no cadafalso, onde em breve escaparia ao vosso poder, mas eu o amarrarei a uma cruz, onde sofrerá muitos anos.
          Não formulando Teobaldo objeções, Bernardo colocou seu capuz sobre o malfeitor, ao qual deu o nome de Constantino, levando-o para o convento.
          Após trinta anos de severas penitências, o bem-aventurado Constantino morreu, sendo sua festa no dia 16 de março.

Tuesday 12 April 2016

Untitled Poem by José Thiesen

Quero morrer e não morro,
viver e não vivo, não venho nem vou;
estou num limbo, cinzento espaço,
laço que não desdá, fim que não acaba.

Roem minh'alma a dor atroz do amor ausente e
o latido de ter falhado co'a vida que finda.

Se Deus me ouvisse
com amor e caridade,
me daria esse alento,
me tirava desse poço
e consolava minh'alma
já de tanta dor cansada.

Mas seguem-se os dias
e de minha dor o abutre,
ainda me lacera, furioso;
vem uma noite e outra vai
e, longe de mim, o meu
amado se ri pra o seu amante.