Legend of The Caiman Man From Plato Magdalena
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ScribdTranslationsLegend of The Caiman Man From Plato Magdalena
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ScribdTranslationsLEGEND OF THE MAN ALLIGATOR FROM PLATO MAGDALENA
They say that a long time ago there was a fisherman who was very womanizing and had by
the hobby of spying on the silver-haired women bathing in the river waters
Magdalena. Anticipating that she might be discovered among the bushes, she moved
to the Alta Guajira so that a sorcerer would prepare a potion that would turn him into
temporarily in the caiman so that the bathers wouldn't suspect and to admire them
to please. The sorcerer prepared two potions for him, one red that turned him into a caiman, and
another white one that turned him into a man again.
Montenegro enjoyed his wit for some time, but on one occasion, the friend
who added the white potion could not accompany him. Instead, another one went who,
seeing the caiman, he got scared thinking it was real and dropped the white bottle with
the liquid that transformed him back into a man. Before spilling
completely, some drops of the liquid splashed only on Saul's head,
so the rest of his body turned into a caiman. Since then, he
became the nightmare of women, who never bathed in the river again.
The only person who dared to approach him afterwards was his mother. All the
nights I would visit him by the river to comfort him and bring him his favorite food: cheese, cassava
and bread soaked in rum. After the death of his mother, (who died of sadness for not
been able to find the sorcerer who had crafted the potions because there had been
dead), the Alligator Man, alone and with no one to take care of him, decided to let himself be carried away.
to the sea by the river to Bocas de Ceniza, as the mouth is known
from the Magdalena River to the Caribbean Sea at the height of Barranquilla. Since then, the
fishermen of the Bajo Magdalena, from Plato to Bocas de Ceniza, remain
pending to fish it in the river or to hunt it in the swamps of the banks.
LEGEND OF LA LLORONA
The Weeping Woman transformed into the wandering spirit of a woman who carries a child in her arms.
Quadril refers to its name because it wanders crying along the paths. It is said
who is never seen in the face and cries from shame and remorse for what they did to
your family.
Those who have seen her say that she is a disheveled and muddy woman, with reddish eyes.
dirty and frayed dresses. She carries in her arms a bundle that looks like a child
newborn. It doesn't harm people, but its complaints and screams cause terror
yelling at his son.
The apparitions occur in lonely places, from eight in the evening, until
five in the morning. Their favorite places are the ravines, lagoons, and puddles.
deep, where splashing and lamenting moans can be heard. They appear to the
unfaithful men, to the wicked, to the drunkards, to the gamblers, and ultimately, to everyone
to be plotting evil deeds.
Tradition says that La Llorona asks people for help to carry the child;
upon receiving it, he is freed from punishment by becoming La Llorona, the person who has it.
received. Other versions say it is the spirit of a woman who killed out of jealousy
to the mother and set fire to the house with his parent inside, receiving from her,
At the moment of agonizing the curse that will condemn you: 'You will walk without God and without
Saint Mary, chasing men along the paths of the plain.
During the civil war, it was established in the Villa de las Palmas or Purification, a
General Command, where people from different parts of the country gathered.
One of its captains, of questionable conduct and who found in the
war a fun adventure to vent his mournful past of assault and
crime, he settled with his wife in this villa, which he soon abandoned to
continue in the fight.
Her afflicted and abandoned woman dedicated herself to dressmaking to avoid starving.
while her husband returned and finished the war.
As time went by, people spread the news of the captain's death and
the poor woman mourned rigorously until a soldier appeared to her who
he was part of the recruit battalion that was coming from the capital to the south, but
that due to special circumstances, I had to delay in that locality for a while.
weeks.
The widow convinced of the assertions about the death of her husband, believed
finding in that new love a balm for her sorrow, she accepted the young man and grew close
with him.
The days of passionate madness passed quickly and once again the seamstress was left
savoring abandonment, loneliness, poverty, and sipping tears for the
absence of her beloved.
That adventurer left indelible marks on the troubled woman, because of the
A few days later, she felt the fruit of her love pulsating in her womb.
Time was passing without news of her beloved. The longing was becoming tender.
upon confirming that the nine moons of her gestation had been fulfilled.
A battalion of fighters was returning from the south on the same day that the seamstress was giving
the light of a skinny and pale child. That quiet and poor cartridge was delighted with
the little one's cry.
At sunset on that same day, a neighboring friend ran to her house,
to inform you that your husband the captain had not died, because without fear of
to make a mistake, I had just seen him among the troops arriving at
camp
At such an untimely moment, that news was enough to make one faint, not because of the case
that only a few hours before he had endured, as through the physical exhaustion in which he was
She found herself. Thousands of thoughts flowed through her feverish mind. She stood up determined.
on her bed. She put on a frayed robe over her shoulders, picked up the newborn
born, she wrapped him well, holding him tightly against her chest believing that she would
they would snatch and, without closing the door, left the hut, running with difficulty. They
she went along the dark path lined with bushes and protected by the black cloak
of the night.
Thick drops of rain began to fall, I kept running, the storm clouds were
denser, the storm unleashed with more fury. The light of the lightning
it lit the way. Nature shook with death throes. The insane
he was crying. The streams grew, overflowed. At the end of the path, he found the
first creek, but the woman no longer saw. She plunged into the impetuous current that
It quickly developed. The waters roared. In their thunderous roars, it seemed
the lament of a woman can be perceived
