We were already halfway across the narrow stone bridge over the Rio Molino when Juan, the warden of the hacienda, came running towards us. He shouted he was in a hurry – he suspected his daughter was meeting her lover Ramon at that same moment. He must have frightened you, Platero, because there was no way to get you moving. You stood there for over two hours.
Juan sends his greetings: “Tell your donkey that thanks to his stubborness I’m a grandfather now.”