miércoles, 29 de marzo de 2017

“En el limbo”

Una lucha encarnizada en un interior cada vez más desolado, pues gana batallas pero comienza a perder la guerra. Vida recuperada al recordar una mirada sostenida en la empedrada penumbra entre cruces y santas, un reproche por la rudeza que hizo sonreír, un beso enviado en la madrugada que sueña con ser real.
Pero solo son recuerdos cercanos de un despertar de sensaciones que hacía años pensaba muertas. Ilusiones que ansían agarrarse a una oportunidad de demostrar que al fondo de las tinieblas, más allá de las oscuras cicatrices, aún late un débil resplandor que una vez tuvo, pero cuyo retuvo solo podría ser despertado por una sonrisa del averno.

Algo cambió, sin embargo, que heló aquel sueño. Tristeza carnavalesca maquillada de sonriente exterior de cartón. Como agua entre los dedos se escapa la impotencia, volviendo a abrazar el silencio y una fría distancia que al menos no lacera.
Tal vez, de ese modo, mate definitivamente el débil resplandor al fondo de las tinieblas. Pero de qué sirve mantenerlo latente si no brilla en sus ojos…

Pepe Gallego

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"En el limbo" by Pepe Gallego is licensed under a Creative Commons Reconocimiento-SinObraDerivada 4.0 Internacional License.

miércoles, 22 de marzo de 2017

“Misericordia”

(English version)

Over the roofs, a silent shadow shifted dizzily. Down, through the dark and cobbled streets, a cold perspiration covered the forehead of a man who hastily run with the terror inundated his eyes. Darkness was just partially broken by oil lamps that timidly illuminated the facades of some houses, since that night the moon didn´t gift its enchanted light. With the heart about coming out from his chest, the man fled across Santa Cruz´ maze of alleys reaching Mrs. Elvira´s square finding what he was looking for, a bustling place where getting lost as an improvised refuge, and that way, being able of eluding his pursuer. The rejoicing of a proposal, facilitated the nocturnal runner a priceless subterfuge to pass unperceived. He followed the retinue across the alleys on the way to the cathedral, passing in front of the door where that Jew in love with a Christian nobleman, to whom, scared of being killed, revealed the secret plan that her father plotted with others in order to revolt against the Christian oppression, contributing to their arrest and execution. Being regretful for the consequence of that act, buried in shame her days requesting that after her death, her head was placed over the door of her house as a payment for the betrayal which tormented her life.

In that moment, the celebration was interrupted due to a terrific female shout, when a blood trail violently came from the carotid of who believed was saved amongst the crowd.
A circle was opened among the people and someone brought an oil lamp closer to illuminate the body, next to it a hooded figure that, absolutely calm, whispered some words while slid with mercy his fingers over the victim´ eyelids to cover his already, dilated pupils. He looked up the sorrowful crowd from the gloomy den that his hood provided to his vivacious eyes, and then one of the witness exclaimed:
—Murderer! —But they had barely walked two steps on the direction to the attacker, when he fled from the siege running with an amazing agility over the wall and jumping to a window, which gave him the thrust enough to disappear over the roofs facing the astonishment of all who assisted such a marvel.

That night, on the streets of Seville, a body of a Christian lied in front of the beautiful Susona´s house, with her sinister skull more macabre than ever dominating the lintel of the door splashed of scarlet.

Pepe Gallego
(Translated by Ariadna B. Alonso)

Licencia Creative Commons
"Misericordia" (English) por Pepe Gallego se distribuye bajo una Licencia Creative Commons Atribución-NoComercial-SinDerivar 4.0 Internacional.

"Misericordia"

Sobre los tejados, una silenciosa sombra se desplazaba vertiginosamente. Abajo, por las oscuras y empedradas calles, el sudor frío perlaba la frente de un hombre que corría atropelladamente con el terror anegándole los ojos. Las tinieblas solo eran parcialmente quebradas por candiles de aceite que alumbraban tímidamente las fachadas de algunas casas, pues aquella noche la luna no regalaba su embrujador haz de luz. Con el corazón a punto de salirle del pecho, el individuo huía por el laberinto de callejones del Barrio de Santa Cruz logrando alcanzar la Plaza de Doña Elvira hallando lo que buscaba, un lugar bullicioso con personas entre las que mezclarse haciendo de ellas un improvisado amparo, y de ese modo poder despistar a su perseguidor. La algarabía de una pedida de mano, facilitó al sofocado corredor nocturno un subterfugio impagable entre el que pasar desapercibido.
Siguió a la comitiva a través de las callejuelas en dirección a la catedral, pasando ante la puerta de aquella judía enamorada de un noble cristiano, a quien por miedo a que fuese asesinado, reveló el plan secreto que su padre urdía junto a otros elegidos para sublevarse contra la opresión cristiana, propiciando que fuesen apresados y ejecutados. Arrepentida al ver la consecuencia del acto, enterró en vergüenza sus días pidiendo que al llegarle la muerte, colocaran su cabeza sobre la puerta de entrada a la casa como pago de la traición que atormentó su vida.

En aquel preciso instante, la festividad se rompió con un terrorífico grito femenino, cuando un reguero de sangre emanó violentamente de la carótida del que se pensaba a salvo entre la multitud. Un círculo se abrió entre el gentío y alguien arrimó un candil para iluminar al caído, junto al que se encontraba una figura encapuchada que, con suma tranquilidad, murmuró unas palabras mientras deslizaba con misericordia sus dedos sobre los párpados de la víctima para cubrir las ya dilatadas pupilas. Se alzó mirando a los compungidos presentes desde la lóbrega guarida que la capucha proporcionaba a sus vivaces ojos, y entonces uno de los testigos gritó:
—¡Al asesino! —pero apenas les dio tiempo a dar dos pasos en dirección al agresor, cuando este escapó del asedio corriendo con una agilidad pasmosa por la pared y saltando a una ventana, que le propinó el impulso necesario para desaparecer por los tejados ante el asombro de los asistentes a tal prodigio.

Aquella noche, en las calles de Sevilla yacía el cadáver de un cristiano ante la casa de la bella Susona, con su siniestra calavera más macabra que nunca presidiendo el dintel de la puerta salpicado de escarlata.

Pepe Gallego

Licencia Creative Commons
"Misericordia" por Pepe Gallego se distribuye bajo una Licencia Creative Commons Atribución-NoComercial-SinDerivar 4.0 Internacional.

jueves, 16 de marzo de 2017

“Red Alabama”

(English version)

I was at the village’s celebrations, as most of the inhabitants of Greenville did, as you already know, sheriff, sharing this relevant day. I was close to one of the huts, the one working as a bar, finishing my beer and observing how my friends managed to dance with the uncultured girls. Suddenly, just behind me, a silky voice came up.
—You are too attractive to miss this dance.
When I turned around I hardly could say a word due to such a beauty .That girl with that pearl skin, silky black hair and big clear eyes. If you had to identify her, she was wearing a T-shirt with the confederate flag on it, the same she was playing with as she smiled at me. But as I have mentioned before, there was something weird in her. It would be said she was about twenty three although she could have been older according to the deep gaze she had.
It is really difficult to explain but she instilled a kind of wisdom, quite far from her teen appearance.
—Hi, I am Scarlett, and you? She told me.
Bobby I answered as I shaked hands with her.
Why don’t we dance? She said.
I can’t dance at all I muttered.
Come on! What a drip! Look how your friends have fun! She censured pointing at them. As I turned again I could see all of them dancing there, except for Taylor who was walking towards the trees in order to pee and probably to smooth out his inebriation.
"Sweet home Alabama" started playing at that moment so I thought it made no sense to the Lynyrd Skynyrd if I wasn’t able to dance with her. As I tried to ask her to do so she had vanished. I seeked everywhere, a bit upset.
A few minutes later I noticed Taylor wasn’t there so I went to the woods to avoid he could fell asleep as he used to do .When I got to that point I felt really shocked by the scene I witnessed, Taylor was being kissed as he was laying on the grass or it seemed to me.
A bit later I realised his body was shuddering.
Scarlett glanced at me and putting her forefinger in her bloody lips, she asked me to be quiet.
That’s why I am here telling this story, sheriff.
It’s pretty clear guy. Go home, I will have a look.
A thunderous noise on the roof shut off our conversation and a soft and nice voice said:
Bobby, I asked you to tell nothing? His face turned into wax Why didn’t you obey?
Sheriff, please, run away to save - the boy added in a resigned tone - I am already dead. It is Scarlett....

Pepe Gallego
(Translated by Cristina Figueras)

Licencia de Creative Commons
"Red Alabama" (English ) by Pepe Gallego is licensed under a Creative Commons Reconocimiento-NoComercial-CompartirIgual 4.0 Internacional License.