Story
The Cross of the Damned.
In the humid forests of Galicia, where the wind whistles through the chestnut trees and moss covers the stones like ancient skin, it is said that every night, when the clock strikes the witching hour, the Holy Company rises from the depths of purgatory.
It was a moonless night, and Xoán, the sacristan of San Pedro de Louredo, was returning along the old path after closing the hermitage. He carried an oil lantern and a rosary, but the silence of the forest seemed to devour his prayers. Suddenly, the air became thick, and a white mist drifted between the trees as if with a will of its own.
From the end of the path, the procession emerged: hooded, translucent figures with empty faces and unseeing eyes. Each held a lit candle that did not tremble in the wind. At the front, a living man, his gaze lost, carried a wooden cross and a bowl of holy water. He was the guide, the condemned one, chosen by death to open the way for wandering souls.
Xoán tried to flee, but his legs wouldn't respond. The Company surrounded him in silence, and a mouthless voice whispered: "You have seen. You must be silent. Or you will be next."
From that night on, Xoán never spoke again. He could be seen wandering through the village with glassy eyes, murmuring names no one recognized. Some said they were next. Others, that they were already dead.
The Holy Company continues its march, invisible to the unbelievers, inevitable to the chosen ones. If you ever feel a chill that doesn't come from the air, or see lit candles where there is no fire, don't look back. Because if you meet the guide's gaze, the cross will be yours, and the holy water will weigh like guilt.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment  ➕📃🎧  Add to your playlists...  Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here...   J. Bilbao

Sonic Universe III

The Cross of the Damned

Story
The Lovers of Teruel. The Kiss That Never Came.
A story of eternal love in Aragon
In the noble city of Teruel, when the 13th century was still weaving its days with threads of faith and destiny, lived two young people whose passion would defy time: Diego de Marcilla and Isabel de Segura.
Diego, the second son of a noble but ill-fated family, loved Isabel with a fervor that burned beyond reason. She, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, reciprocated that love with the sweetness of someone who has found her soul mate. But Isabel's father, pragmatic and stern, denied his blessing: without wealth, there would be no marriage.
Diego, determined, asked for five years to seek his fortune in distant lands. Isabel, faithful, promised to wait for him. And so he left, with hope as his shield and love as his sword.
Five years passed. Isabel, pressured by her family and believing Diego was dead, was forced to marry another man. The very next day after the wedding, Diego returned, rich and triumphant, but too late.
Desperate, he asked Isabel for a kiss. She, now married, refused out of honor. Diego fell dead instantly, consumed by grief.
The next day, during the funeral, Isabel approached Diego's body. She gave him the kiss she had denied him... and died beside him.
They were buried together, and ever since, their tomb in Teruel holds the breath of a love that not even death could separate. The legend lives on as a symbol of passion, sacrifice, and fidelity, a reminder that some loves cannot be contained in a single lifetime.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Kiss That Never Came VI

Verse 1
En Teruel la luna llora,
sobre torres de dolor,
Diego parte con su alma
y promesas de amor.
Cinco años de batalla,
oro, sangre y corazón,
regresó con la esperanza
de cumplir su bendición.

Chorus
Pero el tiempo fue traidor,
y el destino cruel testigo,
Isabel ya dio su flor
a otro nombre, otro abrigo.
“Dame un beso, solo uno”,
suplicó con voz quebrada,
y cayó sin más fortuna
que su pena desbordada.

Verse 2
Isabel, vestida en duelo,
se acercó al cuerpo frío,
y besó los labios muertos
que esperaban su rocío.
Cayó junto a su amado,
como estrella que se apaga,
dos cuerpos entrelazados
bajo tierra que los abraza.

Final Chorus
Y en Teruel aún se escucha
el suspiro de su historia,
dos amantes, una lucha,
y un final que es memoria.
Ni la muerte los separa,
ni el olvido los destierra,
porque el beso que no fue
vive eterno en esta tierra.

Story
The Lovers of Teruel. The Kiss That Never Came.
A story of eternal love in Aragon
In the noble city of Teruel, when the 13th century was still weaving its days with threads of faith and destiny, lived two young people whose passion would defy time: Diego de Marcilla and Isabel de Segura.
Diego, the second son of a noble but ill-fated family, loved Isabel with a fervor that burned beyond reason. She, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, reciprocated that love with the sweetness of someone who has found her soul mate. But Isabel's father, pragmatic and stern, denied his blessing: without wealth, there would be no marriage.
Diego, determined, asked for five years to seek his fortune in distant lands. Isabel, faithful, promised to wait for him. And so he left, with hope as his shield and love as his sword.
Five years passed. Isabel, pressured by her family and believing Diego was dead, was forced to marry another man. The very next day after the wedding, Diego returned, rich and triumphant, but too late.
Desperate, he asked Isabel for a kiss. She, now married, refused out of honor. Diego fell dead instantly, consumed by grief.
The next day, during the funeral, Isabel approached Diego's body. She gave him the kiss she had denied him... and died beside him.
They were buried together, and ever since, their tomb in Teruel holds the breath of a love that not even death could separate. The legend lives on as a symbol of passion, sacrifice, and fidelity, a reminder that some loves cannot be contained in a single lifetime.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

El beso que no fue

Verse 1
In Teruel the moon is weeping,
over towers steeped in pain,
Diego leaves with hope still breathing,
bound by love’s unbroken chain.
Five long years of war and striving,
gold and blood and burning flame,
he returned with dreams surviving,
to reclaim his lover’s name.

Chorus
But time betrayed the vow,
and fate stood cold and grim,
Isabel had bowed somehow
to another’s whim.
“One kiss, just one,” he pleaded,
with a voice that cracked and cried,
and he fell, his soul unheeded,
with no fortune only pride.

Verse 2
Isabel, in mourning dressed,
came to where his body lay,
kissed the lips she once repressed,
and her light began to sway.
She collapsed beside her lover,
like a star that fades and dies,
two entwined beneath the cover
of the earth and silent skies.

Final Chorus
And in Teruel still lingers
the sigh of ancient lore,
two lovers, fate’s cruel fingers,
and a kiss that came no more.
Not even death could sever
what memory dares proclaim:
the kiss that never came
burns eternal in their name.

Story
The Lovers of Teruel. The Kiss That Never Came.
A story of eternal love in Aragon
In the noble city of Teruel, when the 13th century was still weaving its days with threads of faith and destiny, lived two young people whose passion would defy time: Diego de Marcilla and Isabel de Segura.
Diego, the second son of a noble but ill-fated family, loved Isabel with a fervor that burned beyond reason. She, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, reciprocated that love with the sweetness of someone who has found her soul mate. But Isabel's father, pragmatic and stern, denied his blessing: without wealth, there would be no marriage.
Diego, determined, asked for five years to seek his fortune in distant lands. Isabel, faithful, promised to wait for him. And so he left, with hope as his shield and love as his sword.
Five years passed. Isabel, pressured by her family and believing Diego was dead, was forced to marry another man. The very next day after the wedding, Diego returned, rich and triumphant, but too late.
Desperate, he asked Isabel for a kiss. She, now married, refused out of honor. Diego fell dead instantly, consumed by grief.
The next day, during the funeral, Isabel approached Diego's body. She gave him the kiss she had denied him... and died beside him.
They were buried together, and ever since, their tomb in Teruel holds the breath of a love that not even death could separate. The legend lives on as a symbol of passion, sacrifice, and fidelity, a reminder that some loves cannot be contained in a single lifetime.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Kiss That Never Came III

The Kiss That Never Came IV

The Kiss That Never Came V

Story
The Cross of the Damned.
In the humid forests of Galicia, where the wind whistles through the chestnut trees and moss covers the stones like ancient skin, it is said that every night, when the clock strikes the witching hour, the Holy Company rises from the depths of purgatory.
It was a moonless night, and Xoán, the sacristan of San Pedro de Louredo, was returning along the old path after closing the hermitage. He carried an oil lantern and a rosary, but the silence of the forest seemed to devour his prayers. Suddenly, the air became thick, and a white mist drifted between the trees as if with a will of its own.
From the end of the path, the procession emerged: hooded, translucent figures with empty faces and unseeing eyes. Each held a lit candle that did not tremble in the wind. At the front, a living man, his gaze lost, carried a wooden cross and a bowl of holy water. He was the guide, the condemned one, chosen by death to open the way for wandering souls.
Xoán tried to flee, but his legs wouldn't respond. The Company surrounded him in silence, and a mouthless voice whispered: "You have seen. You must be silent. Or you will be next."
From that night on, Xoán never spoke again. He could be seen wandering through the village with glassy eyes, murmuring names no one recognized. Some said they were next. Others, that they were already dead.
The Holy Company continues its march, invisible to the unbelievers, inevitable to the chosen ones. If you ever feel a chill that doesn't come from the air, or see lit candles where there is no fire, don't look back. Because if you meet the guide's gaze, the cross will be yours, and the holy water will weigh like guilt.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Cross of the Damned II

Story
The Lizard of Jaén.
In ancient times, when the walls of Jaén still trembled under the weight of the centuries, a creeping shadow slithered from the bowels of the earth. It was the Lizard of Jaén, a monstrous creature with scales as green as an olive tree, eyes like burning embers, and a breath that withered the fields. It was said to live in a cave near the Magdalena neighborhood, devouring livestock, travelers… and sometimes, even villagers.
The city lived in terror. No one dared approach its lair. Soldiers failed, wise men remained silent, and the people prayed. Until a young man named Martín, humble but resourceful, decided to confront the monster. Not with a sword, but with cunning.
Martín studied the lizard's habits, its routes, its rhythms. He discovered that the beast had one weakness: gluttony. So he devised a plan. He took a large sack of bread and meat, sprinkled it with gunpowder, and left it near the cave as an offering. Then he hid, waiting.
The lizard came out, sniffed, and devoured the feast without suspecting it. When it returned to its cave, the gunpowder took effect: an explosion echoed in the hills, and the monster fell, overcome by its own appetite.
The city celebrated Martín as a hero. Not for his strength, but for his mind. Since then, the Lizard of Jaén has become a symbol of the victory of intelligence over brutality. Today, its figure adorns fountains and legends, reminding us that even the most fearsome monsters can be defeated… with ingenuity.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

The Lizard of Jaén IV

The Lizard of Jaén III

The Lizard of Jaén II

Between myths, stories and galaxies... welcome to my Sonic Universe.

There are songs that aren't just heard... they are remembered like a dream or felt like a ritual.
I am J. Bilbao, creator of worlds where music intertwines with Basque and international legends, forgotten constellations, and stories you may have never heard. Every note I compose, every word I write, is born from a cross between the ancestral and the futuristic.

🎶 I'm arranging and uploading to the Sonic Universe space all my compositions from the last twenty-five years (2000-2025), +1000 original Soundtracks explore everything "Sonic Universe" & "Symphony"...

Here I don't just share songs... I share visions.

If you've ever been moved by a story that seemed written for you, if you've ever felt like a melody spoke to you from another time or planet... then this space is yours too.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment  ➕📃🎧  Add to your playlists...  Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here...   J. Bilbao

New tracks tagged #SpanishFolk