"Una imagen vale mas que mil palabras"
Frase que me ha llamado mucho la atención, pues interpretar una imagen es una experiencia fascinante, para quienes nos gusta escribir...
"A picture is worth a thousand words"
A phrase that has caught my attention, because interpreting an image is a fascinating experience, for those of us who like to write...
¿Qué veo?
Un ventanal desvencijado, cuyas cortinas aún en pie, custodian los tesoros que alguna vez formaron parte de una generación. La mesa llena de aperos, maltratados por los rigores del tiempo y que fueron útiles para alguien que ya no está...
What do I see?
A rickety window, whose curtains are still standing, guarding the treasures that were once part of a generation. The table is full of tools, mistreated by the rigors of time and that were useful for someone who is no longer there.
¿Qué siento?
Una gran tristeza que cala mis huesos, al imaginar cuántas alegrías y lágrimas se derramaron en esa mesa, de tanto pensar, buscando la perfección. Así como cada día al asomarse y disfrutar, lo grande y hermosa de la naturaleza que les rodeaba, sin siquiera imaginar que ese rincón especial, acabaría siendo presa de los inevitables rigores del tiempo...
What do I feel?
A great sadness that pierces my bones, as I imagine how many joys and tears were shed at that table, from so much thinking, seeking perfection. Just like every day when they leaned out and enjoyed the great and beautiful nature around them, without even imagining that that special corner would end up being a prey to the inevitable rigors of time?
"La Herencia"
Agotado por aquel intenso viaje, a las remotas tierras del abuelo,
apurado un llamado fui en reclamo, de aquella herencia que representa un legado.
Al llegar vi un portón triste y sombrío, de madera y un cerrojo ya oxidado
atravesé un gran salón lúgubre y frío, que entre polvo y hollín me ha recibido.
Observo en el cuarto de mi viejo, una mesa adosada a la ventana,
llena de aperos con los que él trabajaba, embelleciendo lo que en el papel plasmaba.
Sus frascos llenos de inquietas aventuras, que al mezclarlas se volvían bellas figuras.
La bandeja y el espiral que revelaban, esas películas que de niño disfrutaba.
A la derecha de la mesa recostado, el espaldar de su silla favorita,
como queriendo gritar que está cansada, terminando de inspirar los cuentos de hada.
Sobre la mesa una lata ya oxidada, sea por el tiempo, la humedad o bien por nada, retrataba lo que allí se trabajaba.
Aquel detalle del florero en la ventana, me trasladó al pasado con la abuela.
En ese cuarto nunca faltaban las flores, que ella traía del jardín en las mañanas.
Era un regalo al abuelo, de su amada, de tanto amor que ella le profesaba.
Noté que la cortina aún en pie, abierta al Sol, para así resplandecer,
el cuarto de quien fuera alguna vez, testigo de natura y su vergel.
Hoy he sentido miles de emociones, muchas cosas llegaron a mi mente...
¡Cómo es posible! que lo que tanto quieres, y le entregas con afán todo tu ser, no pueda huir a los embates del tiempo, ¡Tiempo perverso! ¡Me has hecho estremecer!
En ruinas convertiste el aposento, lleno de polvo, runas y desechos.
Él hizo tanto , luchó y con sus desvelos, partió buscando sus sueños, hasta el cielo.
Al recibir mi herencia lloré tanto, pude no haber apreciado tal regalo.
Aun me siento muy acongojado, yo no merezco poseer ese legado.
Es la casa de quien siempre dedicó, su vida entera trabajando ilusionado.
Por lo tanto la casa del abuelo, en su nombre, a una escuela de niños
he donado.
Autora: Numa26
"The Inheritance"
Exhausted by that intense journey, to the remote lands of the grandfather,
After a short time, I went to claim that inheritance which represents a legacy.
When I arrived, I saw a sad and somber gate, made of wood and a lock already rusted
I passed through a large, gloomy and cold room, which, amidst dust and soot, welcomed me.
I look into my old man's room, a table attached to the window,
full of tools with which he worked, embellishing what he captured on paper.
His jars full of restless adventures, which when mixed together became beautiful figures.
The tray and the spiral that they developed, those films that he enjoyed as a child.
On the right side of the table lying down, the back of his favorite chair,
as if wanting to scream that she's tired, ending up inspiring fairy tales.
On the table a can already rusted, either by time, humidity or by nothing, portrayed what was being worked on there.
That detail of the vase in the window took me back to the past with my grandmother.
In that room there was never a lack of flowers, which she brought from the garden in the mornings.
It was a gift to Grandfather from his beloved, of so much love that she professed to him.
I noticed that the curtain was still standing, open to the sun, so that it would shine,
the room of whoever was once a witness to nature and its orchard.
Today I felt thousands of emotions, many things came to my mind...
How is it possible! that what you love so much, and you give it all your being, cannot escape the ravages of time, perverse time! You have made me tremble!
In ruins you have turned the room, full of dust, runes and debris.
He did so much, he struggled and with his sleeplessness, he went in search of his dreams, up to the sky.
When I received my inheritance I cried so much, I may not have appreciated such a gift.
I still feel very distressed, I do not deserve to possess that legacy.
It is the house of the one who always dedicated his whole life to work with enthusiasm.
Therefore the house of the grandfather, in his name, to a school of children
I have donated.
Author: Numa26
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
