miércoles, 21 de junio de 2017

El hombre frío

     No quería arrugas en el traje cuando iba a los entierros. Le gustaban las piedras, todas las que encontraba, se las llevaba a casa. No hablaba de nada que no saliera en el periódico. Todo lo que se le ocurría con los ojos cerrados lo encontraba estúpido. Le hubiera gustado saber cuándo se iba a acabar el mundo exactamente porque la esperanza le parecía infantil.

***

The cold man

      He did not want wrinkles in the suit when he went to the funerals. He liked the stones, all the ones he found, he took them home. He did not talk about anything that did not appear in the newspaper. Everything he could think of with closed eyes found him stupid. He would have liked to know when the world was going to end exactly because hope seemed childish to him.

©I.D.S. & L.R.G.L.

sábado, 10 de junio de 2017

Los gozos de la amada del autor del cuento

     Era el ser humano perfecto, allá donde se dirigiera la mirada o el pensamiento, en lo descubierto y en lo que se debe tapar, se encontraba belleza, tenerla, ser el dueño de ella en el amor, el propietario de todas esas maravillas era la más grande de las fortunas aun en la casa de un pobre. Al recogerse el pelo, al desnudarse la blusa, al remangarse por el calor la falda hasta casi enseñar las braguitas, parecía que daba luz, como si fuera el Sol o un ente sobrehumano. Su pelo era negro y en lo más secreto de su cuerpo, se rizaba como los pétalos de las rosas y parecía un jardín de la ternura y la pureza, suprema visión de lo bello que la mirada del prejuicio abomina. En un abrazo, se sentía el calor del sentimiento verdadero y quien besaba su rostro ganaba su alma porque era una niña desnuda, sin recovecos para la traición. Su boca tenía la miel de la infancia y su mirada era profunda como el cielo de la noche, su espíritu era infinito y libre y con toda la cordura de un alma alegre y bondadosa. Su sustancia de hembra, delicada y colmada de gracia, regocijaba sin límite como un manantial de encanto que traspasara el pecho.

***

The joys of the beloved of the story's author

     It was the perfect human being, wherever the gaze or thought was directed, what was discovered and what had to be covered, beauty was found, having her, being the owner of her in love, the owner of all those wonders was the largest of fortunes even in the house of a poor man. As she gathered her hair, undressing her blouse, as she slipped her skirt through the heat until she almost showed her panties, she seemed to give light, as if she were the Sun or a superhuman being. Her hair was black and in the most secret of her body, it curled like the petals of roses and looked like a garden of tenderness and purity, supreme vision of the beautiful that the look of prejudice abhor. In a hug, one felt the warmth of the true feeling and who kissed her face gained her soul because she was a naked girl, with no nooks and crannies for betrayal. Her mouth had the honey of childhood and her eyes were deep as the night sky, her spirit was infinite and free and with all the sanity of a cheerful and kind soul. Her delicate and graceful female substance rejoiced without limit like a springs of charm that pierced the breast.

©I.D.S. & L.R.G.L.

lunes, 5 de junio de 2017

El hombre íntegro en las formas

     Obligó a todos sus hijos a que estudiaran una carrera, los castigaba cuando suspendían los exámenes del instituto, no quería que mejoraran el mundo sino la imagen de la familia. Ya no creía en Dios pero seguía siendo religioso, según él, por lo mucho que le influyó la educación de su infancia. Cuando leía un poema, reflexionaba sobre las posibles influencias de otros autores, los recursos estilísticos, la riqueza del vocabulario, las fuentes temáticas y haciéndolo se entretenía mucho pero el poema en sí le dejaba frío y no le impulsaba a ser mejor persona. Era amable con la gente hasta que se cansaba. Lujo, le parecía  que era su piscina, su mercedes o sus tres cuartos de baño pero que le quisiera su mujer, lo consideraba normal y corriente, cosa de poca importancia y mérito. Le gustaba tener mucho dinero para vivir cómodamente y para que la gente no pensara que no era trabajador. Quedó muy bien en su funeral, la gente volvió muy satisfecha a su casa.

***

The man decent in the forms

     He forced all his children to study a career, punished them when they suspended their high school exams, did not want them to improve the world but the image of the family. He no longer believed in God but remained religious, according to him, because of how much he was influenced by the education of his childhood. When he read a poem, he reflected on the possible influences of other authors, the stylistic resources, the richness of the vocabulary, the thematic sources and doing so was much entertained but the poem itself left him cold and did not impel him to be a better person. He was kind to people until he got tired. It seemed to him that luxury was his swimming pool, his mercedes or his three bathrooms but that his wife liked him, considered it normal and ordinary, of little importance and merit. He liked having lots of money to live comfortably and so people would not think he was not a worker. He was very well at his funeral, the people returned very satisfied to their house.

©I.D.S. & L.R.G.L.

domingo, 4 de junio de 2017

El hombre enamorado

     Ella era lo más bonito que podía concebir, de tan bonita, superaba a la belleza. Le deslumbraba su inteligencia, tan lúcida era que se volvía un misterio. El mundo está lleno de límites y muros pero con ella, la esperanza se volvía infinita. Una bailarina demuestra gracia, una rosa es tierna, una princesa resplandece por su elegancia, un hada es hermosa pero ella era feminidad por dondequiera que la contemplara. Ser inmortal podía ser una experiencia mediocre al lado de la de hermanarse con aquella muchacha. Los palacios están llenos de hermosura pero ninguno lograba mostrar como ella tanta regularidad y tanta gracia al mismo tiempo. Ella veía bien que la amara y él se lanzó a hacerlo como un poseso.

***

The man in love

      She was the most beautiful he could conceive, she was so beautiful that she was beyond beauty. Her intelligence dazzled him, so lucid she was that she became a mystery. The world is full of limits and walls but with her, hope became infinite. A ballerina shows grace, a rose is tender, a princess shines through her elegance, a fairy is beautiful but she was femininity wherever he saw her. To be immortal could be a mediocre experience alongside that of twinning with that girl. The palaces are full of beauty but none could show as much regularity and grace at the same time. She saw well that he loved her and he launched himself into it like a possessed man.

©I.D.S. & L.R.G.L.

viernes, 2 de junio de 2017

El caballero a lo informal como los americanos

     Era una persona tan buena y tan sencilla que no podía parar de hacer canalladas. La mitad de lo que brillaba en el sexo era su petulancia. Leía libros pero a lo bueno siempre lo llamaba alucinante, a lo malo, mierda y a lo sensato, total. Su mujer se parecía a Bette Davis porque miraba de frente pero hablaba de soslayo. Decirle a alguien en su cara que era idiota, maricón, falso y ordinario, le parecía una muestra de su simpatía más familiar. Asesinar lo consideraba el más claro indicio de un depósito de espermatozoides. No era capaz de entender por qué los pedos eran de mala educación. Cuando lanzaba una indirecta, parecía el Armagedón. Tener pudor lo consideraba absurdo y cobarde y ni siquiera tapar sus vergüenzas a los extraños le parecía imprescindible. Se sentía muy guapo, muy profundo, muy sano, muy competente y se pasaba la mano por el flequillo porque era muy pijo.

The gentleman to the informal like the Americans

      He was such a good person and so simple that he could not stop making dirty tricks. Half of what shone in sex was his petulance. He read books but to the good he always called mind-boggling, to the bad, the shit and to the sensible, total. His wife looked like Bette Davis because she was looking straight ahead, but she was talking sideways. To tell someone in his face that he was an idiot, a fagot, a fake and an ordinary man, seemed to him a sign of his most familiar sympathy. Killing was for him the clearest indication of a sperm deposit. He could not understand why the fart were rude. When he threw a hint, he looked like Armageddon. He considered absurd and cowardly to have modesty and even to cover his shame to strangers did not seem him essential. He felt very handsome, very deep, very healthy, very competent and he ran his hand through his bangs because he was very posh.

©I.D.S. & L.R.G.L.

jueves, 1 de junio de 2017

El hombre que odiaba las exageraciones

     Siempre estaba dispuesto a recibir dinero, por mucho que fuera, no le parecía derrochar pero a la hora de darlo, le obsesionaba hacerlo con moderación, si unos zapatos eran muy caros, compraba solo uno y se sentaba a mirarlo en el sofá por las noches. Para el amor, no era apasionado, quería pero sin excesos, tomarse en serio querer, le parecía cosa de criaturas sin conocimiento, en los funerales, para que los familiares no lloraran, les decía: “Anda, anda, consuélate pensando que podrías haber sido tú”. Se tenía por hombre cristiano, compasivo para los que sufren pero sin llegar al extremo de que tuviera que sufrir él y cuando veía en la tele un político de izquierdas, le gritaba en voz alta: “Muerto de hambre, idiota, ladrón, maleante, borrego”. Le gustaba ser agradable, educado, urbano pero a las personas obesas les preguntaba por sus problemas de movilidad y espacio por los kilos de su cuerpo y a la gente que iba en silla de ruedas, si no se enganchaban con los muebles y las cortinas. La humildad era una prioridad para él pero tanto se jactaba de la suya que parecía vanagloria. Para divertirse era austero, lo hacía viendo en la tele a la gente sufrir. Los sentimientos eran para él baratijas, sin comparación alguna con los negocios o la reputación.

***

The man who hated exaggerations

     He was always willing to receive money, no matter how much it was, it did not seem to splurge, but when it came to giving, he obsessed with doing it in moderation, if shoes were very expensive, bought only one and sat watching it on the sofa at night . For love, he was not passionate, he wanted but without excesses, to take it seriously seemed to him to be of creatures without knowledge, at funerals, so that the relatives did not cry, he said to them: "Go, walk, comfort yourself thinking it could have been you." He considered himself a Christian man, compassionate to those who suffer but without getting to the extreme that he had to suffer and when he saw a left-wing politician on the TV, he shouted aloud: "Starving, idiot, thief, lamb". He liked to be nice, educated, urban but to obese people, he asked about their problems of mobility and space by the kilos of their body and to people who were in a wheelchair, if they did not get hooked with furniture and curtains. Humility was a priority for him, but he boasted so much of his own that it seemed vainglory. To have fun, he was austere, he did watching TV on people suffer. Feelings were for him trinkets, with no comparison to business or reputation.

©I.D.S. & L.R.G.L.