For the fair-haired beauty,

the one with golden hair,

she is the treasure of my soul

the one who lives in my town.

The seventeenth century was underway, the Spanish conquest of Yucatan had ended, and our land was divided into plantations. In Izamal, it could not have been otherwise, so the city was divided into two parts along what is now 31st Street. The southern part, where the monastery and all the area behind it were located, was called "Santa Maria," and the northern part, where the church and the Kinich Kakmó pyramid stand, was called "San Ildefonso."

Each part of the population had its own master. From the north, it was a Spaniard who had participated in the conquest of Yucatan, a cheerful man, a lover of wine and parties, which he organized in his own house on the corner of 27th and 28th streets, right opposite the stairs to the pyramid.

Appointed commander of this part of Izamal, he ordered his daughter to be brought from Spain, who was considered the most beautiful in the city because she had golden hair and eyes the color of the sky, refined and aristocratic. The native inhabitants called her the "Golden Maiden," because she was the first fair-haired and blue-eyed girl they had ever seen.

At about the same time, a handsome young Spaniard appeared in the city, very pleasant in appearance and different from other Spaniards in that he did not use swords or any weapons, as he claimed he was not a soldier, and his only weapon was a lute. He was a poet, a musician, with a cheerful and noble character, a true minstrel.

From the first meeting between the landowner and the minstrel, mutual sympathy arose; they were united by a common love of music and mutual friends. The landowner, whom we will call Don Pedro, hastened to hire the musician as his steward, and soon a close friendship developed between him and his daughter, which gradually grew into love. This did not go unnoticed by anyone, especially Don Pedro, who not only did not look down on this love but, considering how well the young man performed his duties and loved his daughter, thought it was the best match for his daughter. So the future of this couple was happy.

Foreseeing the upcoming wedding, Don Pedro ordered the construction of a new, more spacious mansion opposite his own house. He told the architect that it would be his future residence and ordered it to be decorated with plasterwork figures of a bull, a lion, and a horse. He said that since they were not nobles and had no family crests, these figures would serve in their place. Inside the house, he ordered a portrait of his daughter, brought from Spain, to be placed in a place of honor. After that, the lover moved to the new residence. On romantic full moon nights, the minstrel played his lute and, standing by his beloved’s window, sang to her:

I wish I were a moonbeam,

to illuminate you with my whiteness,

gently caress your face

and lull you with sweet dreams.

The long-awaited wedding was approaching. In the evenings, after work, the lover came to the doorstep of her house and sang of love. What could disrupt their happiness? It seemed nothing, but besides love, envy and malice also exist in the human soul. One evening, a few days before the wedding, the lover was singing his love ballads, peeking through the window curtains. Suddenly, two men, their faces hidden by cloaks, ran out from around the corner and attacked the lover-poet with a sword. The girl, watching from the window, screamed to warn her father and rushed out of the house so swiftly that, placing herself between her beloved and the attackers, she took a sword blow aimed at him in her chest. The murderers fled, taking advantage of the night’s darkness.

Don Pedro came out at that moment only to see his daughter take her last breath in the arms of her lover. Who was responsible for such a monstrous crime? No one knew. It is believed to have been some jealous person or perhaps a suitor of the beauty who was envious because his love was unrequited.

Since then, the minstrel gave up all his pursuits and became lonely and sad. In the evenings, after daily work, he would approach her door and, playing the lute with eyes wet from grief, looking into his beloved’s window, he sang:

The balcony remains without light,

interrupting the cooing of love.

The strings are dim, they have ceased

to feel the touch of an angel…

One late morning, Don Pedro, seeing that the young man had not come to work as usual and after calling several times, ordered him to be brought. Imagine his surprise and the surprise of all when they found at the foot of the portrait of the "Golden Maiden" the body of the minstrel with a lute in his hands and an expression of blissful happiness on his face. The doctor who examined the body found no cause of death, but the simple local people, who admired the loving couple, said he died of love.

Years passed, but the house of the bull, horse, and lion remained unoccupied, not out of fear, but out of respect for this deep sacrificial love. The locals say that on full moon nights you can hear the lute playing and a voice singing:

Endless love

has united our souls

Happy cherubs sang

Praising Endless Love…