What there was in the Pilar glance so that Mbareté drowns in, so much so that losing his life ?She had arrived a few weeks earlier in this village which still was named "las siete corrientes". Her father, of Spanish gentry, had brought her with him. They had settled both not far from the Jesuit mission where worked many guaranis. It made a little fresher late in the afternoon. She wanted to go out and asked to her lady's companion to come with her. Indolente, she walked on the alleys of the "reducción". Her sunshade whirled above her head, protecting her skin that her black hair made even whiter. Mbareté should have never to pick himself up to sponge the sweat which ran down his forehead. At 16 years just completed, Pilar could not either mask the feeling which had seized her, when her profound blue glance had crossed that of the young Indian. They ever since made use of everything to met them again, another time, then others. Mbareté learned some words from Spanish : sufficiently so that he can stammer in Pilar's ear those she dreamed to hear. But one night, deciding to love themselves more, they were surprised by the father of Pilar. Determinated to wash in blood the honor of his daughter, he thrusted a musket to Mbareté. When the shot went out, Pilar threw herself to protect her beloved. She died without a cry. Swept by a second shot at the time he was rushing upon the Pilar's father, Mbareté collapsed on the girl.
Much later, those who came back to the scene of the drama, discovered at the place the lovers body had fallen interlaced , a tree with blue flowers, from the profound blue of the pilar's glance. Thus was born the jacaranda legend...
1 comment:
What a beautiful story! Thank you for telling it here on your blog. I am living in Buenos Aires and the city is filled with the blue blossoms right now as spring is here with all her blustery glory.
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