bilingüe [pdf] - Blog de Javier Smaldone
bilingüe [pdf] - Blog de Javier Smaldone
bilingüe [pdf] - Blog de Javier Smaldone
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George Orwell 1 9 8 4<br />
The spasm passed. He put the white knight back in<br />
its place, but for the moment he could not settle<br />
down to serious study of the chess problem. His<br />
thoughts wan<strong>de</strong>red again. Almost unconsciously he<br />
traced with his finger in the dust on the table:<br />
2+2=5 2 + 2 =5<br />
‘They can’t get insi<strong>de</strong> you,’ she had said. But they<br />
could get insi<strong>de</strong> you. ‘What happens to you here is<br />
FOR EVER,’ O’Brien had said. That was a true<br />
word. There were things, your own acts, from<br />
which you could never recover. Something was<br />
killed in your breast: burnt out, cauterized out.<br />
He had seen her; he had even spoken to her. There<br />
was no danger in it. He knew as though<br />
instinctively that they now took almost no interest<br />
in his doings. He could have arranged to meet her a<br />
second time if either of them had wanted to.<br />
Actually it was by chance that they had met. It was<br />
in the Park, on a vile, biting day in March, when<br />
the earth was like iron and all the grass seemed<br />
<strong>de</strong>ad and there was not a bud anywhere except a<br />
few crocuses which had pushed themselves up to<br />
be dismembered by the wind. He was hurrying<br />
along with frozen hands and watering eyes when<br />
he saw her not ten metres away from him. It struck<br />
him at once that she had changed in some ill<strong>de</strong>fined<br />
way. They almost passed one another<br />
without a sign, then he turned and followed her, not<br />
very eagerly. He knew that there was no danger,<br />
nobody would take any interest in him. She did not<br />
speak. She walked obliquely away across the grass<br />
as though trying to get rid of him, then seemed to<br />
resign herself to having him at her si<strong>de</strong>. Presently<br />
they were in among a clump of ragged leafless<br />
shrubs, useless either for concealment or as<br />
protection from the wind. They halted. It was vilely<br />
cold. The wind whistled through the twigs and<br />
fretted the occasional, dirty-looking crocuses. He<br />
put his arm round her waist.<br />
There was no telescreen, but there must be hid<strong>de</strong>n<br />
microphones: besi<strong>de</strong>s, they could be seen. It did<br />
329<br />
Le pasó aquel sobresalto. Volvió a poner la pieza<br />
en su sitio, pero por un instante no pudo<br />
concentrarse en el problema <strong>de</strong> ajedrez. Sus<br />
pensamientos volvieron a vagar. Casi<br />
conscientemente trazó con su <strong>de</strong>do en el polvo <strong>de</strong><br />
la mesa:<br />
«Dentro <strong>de</strong> ti no pue<strong>de</strong>n entrar nunca», le había<br />
dicho Julia. Pues, sí, podían penetrar en uno. «Lo<br />
que te ocurre aquí es para siempre», le había dicho<br />
O'Brien. Eso era verdad. Había cosas, los actos<br />
propios, <strong>de</strong> las que no era posible rehacerse. Algo<br />
moría en el interior <strong>de</strong> la persona; algo se<br />
quemaba, se cauterizaba.<br />
Winston la había visto, incluso había hablado con<br />
ella. Ningún peligro había en esto. Winston sabía<br />
instintivamente que ahora casi no se interesaban<br />
por lo que él hacía. Podía haberse citado con ella si<br />
lo hubiera <strong>de</strong>seado. Esa única vez se habían<br />
encontrado por casualidad. Fue en el Parque, un<br />
día muy <strong>de</strong>sagradable <strong>de</strong> marzo en que la tierra<br />
parecía hierro y toda la hierba había muerto.<br />
Winston andaba rápidamente contra el viento, con<br />
las manos heladas y los ojos acuosos, cuando la vio<br />
a menos <strong>de</strong> diez metros <strong>de</strong> distancia. En seguida le<br />
sorprendió que había cambiado <strong>de</strong> un modo<br />
in<strong>de</strong>finible. Se cruzaron sin hacerse la menor señal.<br />
Él se volvió y la siguió, pero sin un interés<br />
<strong>de</strong>smedido. Sabía que ya no había peligro, que<br />
nadie se interesaba por ellos. Julia no le hablaba.<br />
Siguió andando en dirección oblicua sobre el<br />
césped, como si tratara <strong>de</strong> librarse <strong>de</strong> él, y luego<br />
pareció resignarse a llevarlo a su lado. Por fin,<br />
llegaron bajo unos arbustos pelados que no podían<br />
servir ni para escon<strong>de</strong>rse ni para protegerse <strong>de</strong>l<br />
viento. Allí se <strong>de</strong>tuvieron. Hacía un frío<br />
molestísimo. El viento silbaba entre las ramas.<br />
Winston le ro<strong>de</strong>ó la cintura con un brazo.<br />
No había telepantallas, pero <strong>de</strong>bía <strong>de</strong> haber<br />
micrófonos ocultos. A<strong>de</strong>más, podían verlos <strong>de</strong>s<strong>de</strong>