cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco

—El viejito Morán y suija que murió
de lumonía. Otros dicen que taba
tubreculosa.
El cura llegó hasta la mediagua. Los
panales empezaron a confesar su
misterio. Abrió sin temor las puertas
desvencijadas. El cadáver de la noche,
que había quedado recostado en la
puerta, se derrumbó hacia afuera.
Instintivamente, todos dieron un paso
atrás. Rápida, como un rayo de carne,
una culebra negra y brillante salió y se
perdió en el monte. Los sapos venían
saltando hacia afuera, como piedras
vivas. Entre los ladrillos verdosos, las
rueditas de plata de las goteras se
habían hecho hongos. El aire jediondo
casi se agarraba con la mano. Una
botella olvidada había ido apagando
su brillo de puro terror.
El cura mandó a Julián por escobas y
empezó a jalar los acapetates81 con una
vara. Se desgajaban, haciéndose tierra.
De aquella rama sombría del techo,
los murciélagos se desprendían, como
hojas, o se volvían a colgar, como frutas
pasadas.
El cura estuvo toda la tarde
limpiando la casa. Bendijo un tarro
de agua y lo regó por todas partes.
Sacó un libro y susurró latines.
80. Mysteries of the Catholic Church.
81. Cobertura interior del tejado.
82. Fiber of sugar cane used as insulator.
41
“The old man Morán and his daughter
who died of pneumonia. Others say she
had turbeculosis.”
The priest approached the porch. The
bees began to confess their mysteries. 80
He opened the dilapidated doors
without fear. The cadaver of the Night,
which had been left leaning inside the
door, collapsed towards the outside.
Instinctively, everyone jumped back.
Swift, like a ray of flesh, a black and
shiny snake slithered by and then
disappeared in the weeds. Frogs were
leaping towards the door, as if they were
live stones. Among the greenish bricks,
the silver circles of the drips of rain had
grown into fungus. The foul stench in
the air could almost be grasped with
a single hand. Out of fear, a forgotten
bottle had ceded its shine.
The priest sent Julián to get some
brooms, and using a stick he began to
remove the straw 82 from the ceiling.
They broke apart crumbling into dirt.
The bats detached from the gloomy
branch that hung over the roof, as
if they were autumn leaves. Others
returned to the branch and clung like
over-ripe fruit.
The priest spent all afternoon
cleaning the house. With a water
vessel that he had blessed, he
sprinkled everywhere. He took out
his book and whispered in Latin.