Capítulo 12… Avanzando.
XI.
Un cigarrillo rubio se consumía apoyado sobre un cenicero blanco, recuerdo de uno de los pocos pasos de Pedro por un hotel. La habitación se iba llenando paulatinamente de humo, y los ojos de Fernando comenzaban ya a pedir auxilio a lágrima viva de lo irritados que estaban, aunque ni siquiera se atrevía a restregárselos por no perder ni un solo ápice de atención a lo que estaba escuchando. Seguía atentamente cada uno de los movimientos de Pedro, cada gesto, cada una de las palabras que, en conjunto, estallaban en el interior de su masa cerebral como petardos de satisfacción. Sin darse ni cuenta, acercó su mano derecha al paquete de cigarrillos que estaba sobre la cama, sacó un pitillo de su interior y pidió fuego.
– Hombre, el que no fumaba, el que se queja del humo en clase.
– Ya ves, si no puedes…
Ver la entrada original 482 palabras más
VIAJES AL FONDO DEL ALSA 
Me gusta tu forma de transmitir con letras. Aquí me quedo… hasta pronto! Un saludo.
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Gracias, Eila, un placer que te quedes por estos lares. Yo también visito tu casa y pasaré buenos ratos en ella, seguro.
Un abrazo.
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Hi Bercian,
Below is my little experiment. Instead of pouring over each sentence , I read your post four times and then quickly wrote down the meaning I could get with my limited ability. I wanted to see if I had grasped anything of the mood.
I hope my effort was not disrespectful. I don’t, of course. see it as anything related to REALLY reading your work. I just wanted to see if the space between languages could create any meaning, however small.
While cigarettes disappeared into an ashtray, one of Peter’s few memories of the hotel, Fernando became an intimate witness to the explosion of Peter’s brain – simply because he could not bear the thought of missing out on anything, no matter how small. Huge volumes of cigarette smoke filled the room, until Fernando feared for his eyesight, but he remained because he had to see everything, every movement leading up to the explosion.
It seemed to be as satisfactory as a firecracker, prompting Peter to smoke another cigarette before addressing his very deep and fiery interior:
«Listen, man -» Peter began.
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Your blog has a such a jarring and compelling aesthetic. Those archtypal American images have a presence consistent enough to act as their own opposites – scary!
I’ve written my first (very) short piece entirely in Spanish, with no help. It took forever. I am rather pleased with it. I may post it on my blog or I may , with your permission post it here in your comments section instead. Hey, a present for you!
Seriously, would that be okay?
Keep up the good work, brother.
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Wow, that is an amazing work, Claire, a very accurate translation. Please, help yourself and post it here, I am longing for reading your first post in Spanish!!
Thank you for your nice words and your support!!!
Hugs & kisses!!
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«A very accurate translation!!» No higher praise could be dreamed of! Bercian!
But how can that be? So many chunks of the text left out. .I’m proud that I grasped something of your meaning, but that is also because you are such a good writer.
Thank-you for allowing a home for my first attempt to blog in Spanish. Maybe it will grow into a story. But please don’t feel that you must say nice things. I hate that. When a person really wants to learn, she gets a thick skin (-:
En la Edad Nueve, el Mundo Todavía Derivas
Estoy perdido en Cuba. No sé que acaban de disparó Che. Es lloviendo y los niños son la celebración las manos en la plaza del pueblo.
Emilio comparte el mango con Diego y yo un poco de mala gana antes de que comencemos a cantar. Me vuelvo para decirle algo, pero los cambios del cielo y se oscurece, y la luz de la calle brilla a través de mi pequeña ventana Boston.
En Boston no sé hablar español, pero los cuentas de un rosario rojas son los mismos.
Escrito fuera de temporada por Claire Maria O’Brien
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Hi Claire! I interpreted your translation of my story as a well-constructed summary. I am going to read your story in Spanish more in detail now and I will tell you about it tomorrow. I am going to concentrate on the plot itself, as the grammar accuracy is something one can get with the passing of time… And, obviously, I am not going to be nice just for the sake of it, criticism must always be constructive, don’t you think so? 🙂
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