cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco

Los bandidos rieron, como niños de un
planeta extraño. Tenían los blanquiyos
manchados de algo que parecía lodo,
y era sangre. En la barranca cercana,
Goyo y su cipote huían a pedazos en
los picos de los zopes; los armadillos
habíanles ampliado las heridas. En una
masa de arena, sangre, ropa y silencio,
las ilusiones arrastradas desde tan
lejos, quedaban abonadas tal vez para
un sauce, tal vez para un pino...
Rayó la aguja, y la canción se lanzó en
la brisa tibia como una cosa encantada.
Los cocales pararon a lo lejos sus palmas
y escucharon. El lucero grande parecía
crecer y decrecer, como si colgado
de un hilo lo remojaran subiéndolo y
bajándolo en el agua tranquila de la
noche.
Cantaba un hombre de fresca voz, una
canción triste, con guitarra.
Tenía dejos llorones, hipos de amor
y de grandeza. Gemían los bajos de
la guitarra, suspirando un deseo; y,
desesperada, la prima lamentaba una
injusticia.
Cuando paró el fonógrafo, los cuatro
asesinos se miraron. Suspiraron...
36
The bandits laughed, as if they were
children from a strange planet. Their
blanquiyos 72 were stained with
something that looked like mud, but
instead was blood. Goyo and his child
were fleeing in pieces in the beaks of
vultures in a nearby ravine. Armadillos
had widened their wounds. In a mass
of sand, blood, clothing and silence,
the dreams brought from so far away
remained as nutrients… perhaps for a
willow, perhaps for a pine…
The phonograph needle got stuck in
a groove, yet the song continued to
travel through the warm breeze like
something enchanted. In the distance,
the coconut groves stilled their palms
to listen. The bright morning star
seemed to grow and shrink, as if hung
by a thread, it were being dipped in and
out of the calm water of the night.
A man with his guitar sang a sad song
with his fresh voice.
He cried at times, hiccups of love and
greatness. The guitar 73 bass hummed,
sighing a wish; and, desperate, the
guitar lamented an injustice.
When the phonograph stopped
playing, the four bandits gazed at each
other. They sighed…
72. The white attire worn by indigenous people was called “blanquiyos.”
73. Playing the guitar in the United States is not customary as in Latin America; therefore, the guitar is
considered as being part of the family, or “a cousin” as in the original.