Where is that pilgrim going,
My pilgrim, where is he going
On his way to Compostela,
I don't know if he'll arrive
His feet are bleeding so much
No longer can he walk
Weak, poor old man
I don't know if he'll arrive.
He has a long, white beard
Eyes that gaze with a sweet look
Eyes like those of a lion
Green like the waters of the sea.
"Where are you going, my good pilgrim,
Where do you wish to arrive?"
"I'm on my way to Compostela
Where my home is."
"Compostela is my native land
I left it seven years ago,
Bright like seven suns,
Gleaming like an altar."
"Join me my friend,
We will travel together
I am a trouvadour
From Virxe de Bonaval."
"And my name is don Gaiferos,
Gaiferos de Mormaltán
If my strength is failing me,
My Saint James will help me.
They arrived in Compostela
They went to the Cathedral
And thus spoke
Gaiferos de Montaltán:
Thank you, my lord James,
At your feet I am now,
If you want to take my life
You can do so
For I will die happy
In this holy Cathedral
And the old man with the long white beard
fell dead onto the ground
He closed his green eyes,
Green like the water of the sea.
When the Bishop heard this,
He ordered him to be buried there
And thus died, my lords,
Gaiferos de Mormaltán.
This is one of the many miracles
That the Apostle James has wrought.