"En 1945 todo el pueblo de OLIEGOS (comarca leonesa de La Cepeda) fue trasladado a la fuerza en un tren de treinta vagones a la finca de Foncastín, municipio de Rueda (Valladolid)".
In 1945 the whole town of OLIEGOS (the county of La Cepeda in the Kingdom of Leon) was forcibly moved by train in thirty wagons to the farm of Foncastín, municipal county of Rueda (Valladolid).
"La construcción del pantano de Villameca forzó la "emigración" de más de ciento cincuenta personas a Foncastín."
The construction of the dam of Villameca forced the "emigration" of more than one hundred and fifty people to Foncastín.
Father, we are so weak
Our bodies are fragile and weary
As we stagger and stumble to walk where you lead
Give us faith to be strong
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it's hard
Give us grace to go on
Make us willing and able
Lord, give us faith to be strong
Doorpost |
El pueblo de Oliegos, antes de su evacuación forzada tendría fácilmente mil, dos mil o posiblemente tres mil años, como tantos otras poblaciones en esta provincia.
The Town of Oliegos (Northern Spain) before the forced evacuation was easily a thousand, two thousand or possibly three thousand years old, like so many other ancient populations in the province.
Give us peace when we're torn
Mend us up when we break
This flesh can be wounded and shaking
When there's much too much trouble for one heart to
take
Give us peace when we're torn
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it's hard
Give us grace to go on
Make us willing and able
Lord, give us faith to be strong
I imagined myself in forced migration, wondering what to take that I could carry only in my arms, how it would be if I were sick or had ailing loved ones, how it would feel to leave my family's home and homeland of generations.
Fueramos capaces de ver Oliegos sólo por la grave sequía de este año que ha secado las aguas del embalse que normalmente cubren la aldea. Un escalofrío inquietante recorrió mi espalda a medida que exploraba los senderos de los aldeanos, examinando los restos de sus hogares expuestos por el retroceso de las aguas.
We were able to see Oliegos only because this year's severe drought has dried up the reservoir waters that normally cover the village. A haunting chill ran down my spine as we explored the footpaths of villagers and examined the remnants of their homes exposed by the receded waters.
Uno arraiga en un lugar, especialmente cuando ese lugar es su casa durante tanto tiempo, se convierte en su identidad. Por lo tanto, al igual que en otros lugares similares, las voces de aquellos que vivían aquí se hacen eco a través de las viviendas abandonadas.
One becomes rooted to a place, especially when that place is your home for so long. It becomes your identity. Thus, like in other similar places, the voices of those who lived here echo through the abandoned dwellings.
Como una trasplantada a otro lugar distinto al que fue mi hogar durante generaciones, sentí una tristeza fuerte y conecté con este lugar.
As a transplant to another place other than that which was my home for generations, I felt a strong melancholy and link to this place.
Give us hearts to find hope
Father, we cannot see
How the sorrow we feel can bring freedom
And as hard as we try, Lord, it's hard to believe
So, give us hearts to find hope
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it's hard
Give us grace to go on
Make us willing and able
Lord, give us faith to be strong
Give us peace when we're torn
Give us faith, faith to be strong
-Andrew Peterson
-Andrew Peterson
Placard at this memorial: We are One. In Time and Space. OLIEGOS - Alive in our Memory |
EN MARCHA
Yo vi, a la clara luz de la mañana,
tibia y rosada, de incipiente invierno,
fornidos hombres, en lenguaje tierno,
el adiós dar postrero a su besana.
Yo vi a toda mujer –joven o anciana-
llorando, en fuerza de calor materno,
protestar y jurar amor eterno
a su iglesia, a su vida, a su fontana…
Yo los vi caminando: silenciosos;
la cabeza doblada, tardo el paso
y, por el llanto, con los ojos ciegos…
Y si al marchar, sonaba por acaso
algún nombre en sus labios temblorosos,
sólo pude escuchar el tuyo, “Oliegos”.
I saw, in the clear light of morning,
tepid and flushed, the insipid winter,
robust men, with tender words
their last good-bye to their plowed lands.
I saw all the women, young and old,
crying, with maternal warmth,
protesting and swearing eternal love
to their church, their life, their fountain...
I saw them walking: silent;
bent heads, slow steps
and finally, from weaping, with blinded eyes...
And if while marching, some sound was heard
some name upon their trembling lips,
I only heard yours, "Oliegos".
Augusto Quintana,
who saw the flight of the Oliegos/
quien vio la égira de los de Oliegos
el adiós dar postrero a su besana.
Yo vi a toda mujer –joven o anciana-
llorando, en fuerza de calor materno,
protestar y jurar amor eterno
a su iglesia, a su vida, a su fontana…
Yo los vi caminando: silenciosos;
la cabeza doblada, tardo el paso
y, por el llanto, con los ojos ciegos…
Y si al marchar, sonaba por acaso
algún nombre en sus labios temblorosos,
sólo pude escuchar el tuyo, “Oliegos”.
I saw, in the clear light of morning,
tepid and flushed, the insipid winter,
robust men, with tender words
their last good-bye to their plowed lands.
I saw all the women, young and old,
crying, with maternal warmth,
protesting and swearing eternal love
to their church, their life, their fountain...
I saw them walking: silent;
bent heads, slow steps
and finally, from weaping, with blinded eyes...
And if while marching, some sound was heard
some name upon their trembling lips,
I only heard yours, "Oliegos".
Augusto Quintana,
who saw the flight of the Oliegos/
quien vio la égira de los de Oliegos
Así fue en muchos lugares de España, por la construcción de pantanos obligaron a muchas personas a dejar sus tierras, sus paisajes y en ellos quedaron sus corazones, algunos, muchos no pudieron superarlo, otros vivieron con la pena de no poder volver nunca más al lugar donde nacieron, crecieron y vivieron... triste, como otras tantas historias que han pasado en este país. Precioso tu post, un enorme saludo.
ReplyDeleteOh Mary, my screen is all blurry. This was so touching. The sadness, the acceptance...the memories. This was lovely.
ReplyDelete