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part 7

  Part 8

  Juan Palazzo, Un visitante nocturno (A visitor at night)




Text                                                   English text
  Ante el parpadeo luminoso de las plantas y el hueco amplio del caserón, sus pupilas se dilataban, moviendo la cabeza con entusiasmo.
-Esto es un paraíso. ¡Qué lindo! ¡Qué bien se vive aquí! Si yo tuviera plata...
-No se crea- repuse.
-Aquí la gente está casi casi en la misma situación que los presos en la cárcel. Allá, al menos no desesperan por la comida.
Hay obligación de darla. Tienen pan, duro, pero lo tienen, ¡qué diablos! En cambio, si no se trabaja, se roba. Y éste es un arte difícil, que los vecinos ignoran. Púsose triste y calló, algo avergonzado por el derrumbe de una falsa creencia muy arraigada en su espíritu. Al irse, me estrechó con efusión la mano, y enseguida de echar una mirada larga, una de esas miradas tensas y trágicas que exteriorizan un gran dolor recóndito, prorrumpió a grito herido:


-¡En todos lados se sufre!
Terminaba el invierno. Como de costumbre, yo salía a la puerta. Mi espera, infundada, era el efecto del hábito. Con el tiempo, a pesar mío, lo fui olvidando, lo eché a menos, hasta que finalmente sólo recordaba con precisión una tos seca y la sombra informe de su minúscula figura, agitándose en el oscuro zaguán de casa.
 

Before the luminous blinking of the plants and the wide hollow of the big house, his pupils were dilating, moving the head enthusiastically.
- this is a paradise. What adjoined! Through what good one lives here! If I had silver...
- it is not created - I restored.
- here the people are almost almost in the same situation as the prisoners in the jail. There, at least they do not lose hope for the meal.
There is obligation to give it. They have bread, five-peseta coin, but they have it: what devils! On the other hand, if one does not work, it is stolen. And this is a difficult art, which the neighbors ignore. It became sad and he was quiet, something ashamed at the destruction of a false credence much established in his spirit. On having gone away, it took me in with effusion the hand, and at once of to throw a long look, one of these tense and tragic looks that express a big recondite pain, prorrumpió to hurt scream:
- In all sides it is suffered!
The winter was ending. Like of custom, I was going out to the door. My waiting, groundless, was the effect of the habit. With the time, to my sorrow, I forgot it, threw it at least, until finally only he remembered exactly a dry cough and the formless shade of his small letter appears, being waved in the dark hall of house.


vocabulary  
  el parpadeo = blink with an eye
  el hueco = hole
  dilatar = to stretch
  avergonzarse = to be ashamed
part 7