Badajoz. wests, heritage of the city

These are instantaneous of the evening of last sunday of the winter. The meadow of the fort was an authentic ceremonial group. The beach late afternoons paradisiácas and exotic they enjoy enttre we extraordinary reputation. Also the puttings Suns are beautiful in the desert or in Marrakech's Palm grove. But the conjunction of the environment, of the history, of the nature and of the feeling, they are the elements that give proper life to the unique spectacle of the twilights badajocenses. Only we, those that we feel the city as something proper and part of our life, can interpret and feel the deep emotions of this inigulable choreography. Family picnics, walkers of interrupted to walk, children ensoñados in his games and lovers embraced under the pines, all spirits soñantes aligned towards west, we are the authentic portagonistas, of what king looks like a common and revered honoring star..

The mirror of the Guadiana pareccían to return the rainbow-coloured reflexes of countless centenary twilights, jealous guarded in the book of the history. The distant looks of innumerable prominent figures like Marwan the founder, Al-Mutawakil the last king of Badajoz, of Godoy the Prince of the Peace, Marín de Rodezno or of the General Menacho.

That we frequent this place and these moments, we never saw hereabouts either our politicians (governing councillors or opositories), or Civil Governors or Delegates of Government. Also estrañamos the absence of some archeologists or the carrying unique architects of to know and of the truth. And paradoxically, so many beauty between(among) these careless ruins, which are ruined in front of our eyes. All this, in the middle of the legendary places, where century after century there lived and died the only prominent figures, who defended like in no other Eapaña's place the independence of our mother land.

This way the hair illuminates us. Eternal period, tedious meetings, lies, desprecios... It is necessary to live through it to feel it. Or possibly, it is necessary to feel it to live through it.

WESTS PATRIMONY OF THE CITY OF BADAJOZ
Française version		Versión portuguesa
The late afternoons, from the adarve of the Fort or from the shores of the old man Guadiana, are the whole spectacle of light and color, of an exceptional beauty, especially, in the cold evenings of the from Badajoz winter. Reflexes and cross-lights, sheens and contrasts, do of the west in the city, an authentic changeable, deferential monument in every day. A challenge to the camera of tourists, experts and wayfarers.
These are instantaneous of the evening of last sunday of the winter. The meadow of the fort was an authentic ceremonial group. The beach late afternoons paradisiácas and exotic they enjoy enttre we extraordinary reputation. Also the puttings Suns are beautiful in the desert or in Marrakech's Palm grove. But the conjunction of the environment, of the history, of the nature and of the feeling, they are the elements that give proper life to the unique spectacle of the twilights badajocenses. Only we, those that we feel the city as something proper and part of our life, can interpret and feel the deep emotions of this inigulable choreography. Family picnics, walkers of interrupted to walk, children ensoñados in his games and lovers embraced under the pines, all spirits soñantes aligned towards west, we are the authentic portagonistas, of what king looks like a common and revered honoring star.. The mirror of the Guadiana pareccían to return the rainbow-coloured reflexes of countless centenary twilights, jealous guarded in the book of the history. The distant looks of innumerable prominent figures like Marwan the founder, Al-Mutawakil the last king of Badajoz, of Godoy the Prince of the Peace, Marín de Rodezno or of the General Menacho. That we frequent this place and these moments, we never saw hereabouts either our politicians (governing councillors or opositories), or Civil Governors or Delegates of Government. Also estrañamos the absence of some archeologists or the carrying unique architects of to know and of the truth. And paradoxically, so many beauty between(among) these careless ruins, which are ruined in front of our eyes. All this, in the middle of the legendary places, where century after century there lived and died the only prominent figures, who defended like in no other Eapaña's place the independence of our mother land. This way the hair illuminates us. Eternal period, tedious meetings, lies, desprecios... It is necessary to live through it to feel it. Or possibly, it is necessary to feel it to live through it.