One more year I give no quarter to foreign pumpkins. Not all that paraphernalia of bats, cobwebs and haunted houses that invade shops and bars. Nor to the school parties of miniature witch costumes and ghosts (some then dream ...). I am not going with the times nor am I politically correct because I stayed with him, with Don Juan Tenorio. With the now reviled (or reinterpreted) myth of the most ignominious and rogue skull, but also of the most in love and redeemed.

Don Jose Zorrilla wrote his story in 1844, which inspired you The Trickster of Seville from 1630, attributed to Tirso de Molina. And it is what you have to read and especially see represented in these upcoming dates. I know my fight is a losing fight, but I will endeavor to fight every year to continue giving it its prominence. Schoolchildren had to learn it long ago and recited it. Now… is now. Well, I return every end of October to the Laurel inn to find him writing his letter. These are some of his most unforgettable verses.

DON JUAN

How those damned screams!

But bad lightning break me

yes in concluding the letter

they don't pay dearly for their screams!

***

Here is don Juan Tenorio

and there is no man for him.

From the haughty princess

to the one who fishes in a mean boat,

there is no female to whom I do not subscribe,

and any company covers

if it is in gold or in value.

Look for him the rebels;

close the players;

who boasts to cut him off,

Let's see if there is someone who surpasses him

in game, in fight or in love.

***

Wherever I went

the reason i ran over

the virtue I mocked,

I mocked justice

I already sold women.

I went down to the cabins,

I went up to the palaces,

I climbed the cloisters

and everywhere I left

bitter memory of me.

***

I cried to heaven, and he did not hear me.

But if its doors close me,

of my steps on Earth

answer heaven, not me.

***

Move away, feigned stone!
Let go, let go of that hand
that there is still the last grain
on the clock of my life.
Let go of it, if it's true
than a point of contrition
give a soul salvation
of an eternity,
I, holy God, believe in you;
if it is my unheard of evil,
your mercy is infinite ...
Lord have mercy on me!

With DON LUIS

DON LUIS

By God you are a strange man!

How many days do you use

in every woman that you love?

DON JUAN

Depart the days of the year

among which you find there.

One to make them fall in love,

another to get them,

another to abandon them,

two to replace them

and an hour to forget them.

With DON DIEGO

MR. DIEGO

You kill me ... More I forgive you

of God in holy judgment.

DON JUAN

Long term you put me.

(Although I will always prefer Tirso de Molina's version where the Trickster said "How long do you trust me!").

With DOÑA INÉS

DON JUAN

Ah! Isn't it true, angel of love,

that on this secluded shore

purest the moon shines

and you breathe better?

This aura that wanders, fills

of the simple smells

of the peasant flowers

That pleasant shore sprouts:

that clean and serene water

that goes through without fear

the fisherman's boat

that waits singing the day,

Is it not true, my dove,

what are you breathing love

***

MRS. INES:

I don't know ... Since I saw him,

Bridget of mine, and her name

you told me i got that man

always in front of me.

Everywhere I am distracted

with your pleasant memory,

and if I lose him for a moment,

in his memory I relapse.

I don't know what fascination

in my senses it exercises,

that always twists me towards him

mind and heart:

and here and in the oratory

and everywhere I warn

that thinking amuses […].

***

MRS. INES:

Shut up, for God's sake, oh, don Juan!

that I will not be able to resist

long time without dying

so never felt eager.

Ah! Be silent out of compassion,

that listening to you seems to me

that my brain goes crazy

my heart burns.

Ah! You have given me to drink

a hellish filter, no doubt,

that helps you to surrender

the virtue of women […].

DON JUAN:

Soul of mine! That word

my being changes the way,

what can i do

until Eden opens to me.

It is not, Dona Ines, Satan

who puts this love in me;

It is God who wants for you

win me for Him perhaps.

No, the love that is treasured today

in my mortal heart

it is not an earthly love

like the one I felt until now;

not that fleeting spark

that any gust extinguishes;

It is a fire that is swallowed

how much he sees, immense, voracious.

So cast off your anxiety

beautiful doña Inés,

because I feel at your feet

still capable of virtue.

Yes, I will go my pride to prostrate

before the good Commander,

and or will he give me your love,

or he will have to kill me.

***