In the 15th century, Yasir was the owner of the most beautiful jewel of the Peninsula: the fortress, the palaces and the gardens of the Alhambra. Those buildings were his sunrise and sunset. He contemplated them as a miser looks at his treasure. It was the image of his power and wealth, of his pride, of his value as a man. Without that place, Yasir would only be one more among the countless servants of the vast Nasrid kingdom.
From the time the muezzin announced the arrival of dawn from the minaret tower until he sang again at sunset, Yasir enjoyed every corner of his palace, which he never tired of walking through. The Patio de los Leones, the Patio de Arrayanes, the throne in the conference room of the Ambassadors... His pride seeped through every corner of the buildings, like the water flowing through its canals and fountains. If on the one hand Yasir was a devoted lover of art, of the meticulous and geometric decorations, of the red flowers that sprouted with the good weather like the noble blood of his lineage... on the other hand he was a coward: he knew that his power was supported by those bricks, that without that splendor he would be a pebble in the conquering path of the Christian monarchs.
At the break of spring, the Alhambra opened in thousands of orange blossoms that gave off all their perfume. Yasir strolled from one place to another, always followed by a scribe who wrote down the short verses that his sultan dictated, inspired by Allah. That May morning he was caressing the water of a pond with his fingertips when a visit was announced to him.
-Order them to wait in the ambassadors' conference room ," he sighed, annoyed at the interruption.
The servant ducked his head.
-But they are already here.
Yasir looked up.
-In the family palace! What an outrage!
The brown skin on his face caught fire. The fortress had a place reserved for him and he could not imagine anyone outside his family entering without his permission. He realized that he was a sultan of little authority. Therefore, he sometimes feared that a servant would raise his voice or retort an order. He knew well his weakness. He would have preferred to be the king of creatures like swallows, who do not create headaches and do not know how to murder.
Two women appeared in the sumptuous garden. Both were tall, of elegant figure, and were clad in precious silks, set with diamonds and bracelets. As they came before him, they uncovered their veils. Yasir saw that their dark, smooth faces were identical, except for the color of their eyes: one was blue, the other green. It seemed to him that they were angels from the same paradise.
-Good morning," he greeted them, stroking his pointed beard. Who honors me with your presence?
-Have a good day while you can, sir," they looked at each other amused. We have come to ask you to allow us to live in your palace for a few days. They will be few, we promise.
Yasir was annoyed by this irreverence, but he preferred to accept the presence of those two beautiful flowers.
<<Escribiré algunos versos>>, pensó.
Moreover, he assumed that these were two princesses of high birth.
From then on, the days became especially annoying. His walks and reflections were constantly interrupted by the workers and architects working on the Alhambra.
-But what's all the fuss about? -he asked the head of his team.
-Reforms, sir.
Yasir nodded complacently, for anything that embellished his golden city meant more glory for himself. Of the two princesses he had scarcely heard again. He saw little of them: sometimes in the gardens, sometimes behind the curtains of the rooms. He felt them like a ghostly presence.
In November, the sultan expressed his disgust for the works that soiled his sanctuary. He could not find a moment alone in his paradise, for the noise of the hammers and chisels became unbearable: they did not allow him to hear the whisper of the breeze or the murmur of the fountains.
Yasir became irascible. He fell prey to childish tantrums. He decided, therefore, to look for the two princesses in order to distract himself. He found them in a courtyard with a pond and ceramic floors covered with autumn leaves.
-Who are you? asked the blue-eyed woman in a mocking tone.
Yasir felt confused and somewhat annoyed. He was little friend of humor.
-How graceful and beautiful you are! -he tried to win them over with a compliment. They looked at him without saying anything. Allow me to ask you a question: what do you do every day in this palace?
They burst into peals of laughter, which rang like bells.
-To destroy it," the green-eyed woman informed him.
Yasir forced a smile.
-So those delicate hands destroy my buildings..." he tried to be funny.
The princesses rose from the parapet of the fountain with the tinkling of their jewels. The blue-eyed one walked around the ends of the enclosure, caressing the very thin colonnade that supported the arches on which the roof rested. Yasir took a seat and looked at her in amusement, but at that moment the columns began to crack.
Immediately, the green-eyed girl crossed the courtyard, which was becoming covered with weeds.
The king was stunned.
-What curse is this?
He suffered a slight delirium and had to cling to the arms of his ivory seat. That garden of delights had been left in ruins in just a few seconds.
-Who are you? -he asked fearfully.
-You are a vain Icarus," the blue-eyed woman accused him.
-Only heaps of rubble will remain of your fortress.
The sultan pondered in sorrow:
-But that can only be done by time and nature, merciless forces that could not surprise me as it were.
The women nodded and covered their faces with the veils.
-If you were ever to leave these walls, you would see that of the glory of the caliphate there remains only this small paradisiacal enclosure.
Yasir instantly understood and wept bitterly for the neglect of his people and his lands. Suddenly, the Alhambra was weighed down by the centuries before turning into ruins.
.................
Guillermo Alonso del Real
Winner of the XIX edition
www.excelencialiteraria.com
