Yxenocamidono (engl. version)

Another black vessel in Kagoshima. In these enormous boats they brought alongside stranger men, Barbarians of the south, we were so accustomed to chins, this new quality of people arriving at Japan, scared the population at first, taking them for monsters, had to its eyes in orbit, tremendous noses and so much fluff in their faces. But soon we noticed they were good persons, despite their harshness, and we became curious what would they carry from the other corner of the world. Another black vessel shored in the bay of Cagoshima, not being able to come close being so much bigger that our quay, whale of pine with big stuck trunks and between them enormous cloths and ropes strained in the air for where men so skilfully carry themselves.

Good night, ladies and gentlemen, pretty flowers, in name of this anything that I carry I come here to tell in song tone, or to hum, like someone not knowing the letter but insisting still on the melody, improvising the la la la, therefore I say, ladies and gentlemen, pretty flowers, do not bind to the words of this song but to the melody, that is much more pleasant. If, in the middle, I forget the words, don't take amiss if I go on humming, on behalf of music, until I remember the rest. The important thing, I repeat, is not missing the thread of the song.

What I am going to tell you will never pass the limit of the eyes and the ears of a poor person that nobody will remember. What I am preparing to tell you is about the passing of the years buried in my belly. Everything that I say and everything that I am is what has pierced in through all the pores of my skin. Should I perceived, or not, what encircled my life. Either good or bad interpreter of the times that ran. I only figure that the former descendant of the sun's goddess couldn't had seen a boat so gloomy as this one. Beyond this, I just know that the land and the sky exist. Hell I'm not certain. Land is where I move from one side to another, sky is where I look fearing the typhoon or before I fall asleep in summer. But now this satanic thing that the namban tell with their eyes open wide I don't know what it is because I never saw it, even if I feel shacked to my bones when I hear the sayings coming out from their mouths.

A man came to whom they called priest master Francisco, wearing black vestments and beret, so girded to his own body, that I could not understand how could he move, he was, despite this, a person of wide gesture, with fine and long arms that he used to raise above, looking at the skies where he affirmed to live such a great glory of this kami. He also maintained that he brought a truth that we others should follow to be safe of earthquakes. He was one of the first ones to be touched by the faith of this Barbarian from the south, the old Yxenocamidono, who lived in a castle six leagues far from Cagoshima. From the confines of the world Master Francisco brought the history of a man who claimed to be the saviour of the world and proclaimed that anyone who dare not to follow him will be lost, a man that, in my view, could be a Buddha, a man they preferred to call Crisuto, and crishutians to his followers. Yxenocamidono infected family and neighbours with this devotion. For these and other works of faith this old man deserved to change his name, Now on you will call yourself Michael, by the grace of God, thus spoke the gestures, vertical and horizontal, of the priest master. The name Michael means "Where god is", it was this that was explained to the old Yxenocamidono, Your name is too complicated and long, besides being a gentile one; you will be Michael because upon this overcast land you were the first one to see a tiny light sprouting and you asked "Where is god?". This way the old man received that light and recommended to his fellow-creatures that they should start to call him:

- Oh Michael!

And inside his head what he could heard was not his new name, but the meaning, when someone called him Oh Michael what he could swear he heard was "Look here Yxenocamidono where is this god?" Then he answered:

- There, he is there, come with me!

And he took a mob with him to Father Master Francisco, this one pouring gestures to his role revealing the good news, showing the way to that question: - Oh Michael!

- This way, come on!

All these years passed, as I said, Father Francisco, now within other Japanese lands, so far and probably forgotten of Yxenocamidono, preaching to kings and princes and to the crowds that listened to him, throwing his arms to the air that God is mercy, that He is in the skies, that he wanted to lower His clement hand to this place that was kept in darkness for such a long time and He wanted to reveal to the Japanese the wonderful splendour of His word…

…good old Michael was dying. But there were two things that he still kept: his sitting position and the image of Our Lady hanged by his neck. Someone came, furtively, and with a murmur, sifting if he was still living or already death, called:

- Oh Michael…

Death he was not, for he grabbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger, making him sweep the floor with his head in a half-moon motion, and his voice came from his belly, from the years’ grave (listen!):

- I’m here!

And the spy went away with his nose burning crying and praying to anyone who would listen:

- I found God, I found God!…

Did you heard this song? The words don’t matter, it’s the melody, the melody. I was not much closed to this faith, but I was not closed to any other, in truth I am not attached to big faiths, I simply walk, sometimes barefoot some others with sandals, but I like to take a little pebble in my hand, as I’m doing now, that’s why I keep my fist clenched.