como homes quedaron

capa da novela na versión orixinal
theschleicherspin.com

They rose up like men. We saw them. Like men they stood.

erguéronse como homes. Vímolos. Como homes quedaron.

We shouldn’t have been anywhere near that place. Like most farmland outside Lotus, Georgia, this one here had plenty of warning signs. The threats hung from wire mesh fences with wooden stakes every fifty or so feet. But when we saw a crawl space that some animal had dug – a coyote maybe, or a coon dog – we couldn’t resist. Just kids we were. The grass was shoulder high for her and waist high for me so, looking out for snakes, we crawled through it on our bellies. The reward was worth the harm grass juice and clouds of gnats did to our eyes, because there right in front of us, about fifty yards off, they stood like men. Their raised hooves crashing and striking, their manes tossing back from wild white eyes. They bit each other like dogs but when they stood, reared up on their hind legs, their forelegs around the withers of the other, we held our breath in wonder. One was rust-colored, the other deep black, both sunny with sweat. The neighs were not as frightening as the silence following a kick of hind legs into the lifted lips of the opponent. Nearby, colts and mares, indifferent, nibbled grass or looked away. Then it stopped. The rust-colored one dropped his head and pawed the ground while the winner loped off in an arc, nudging the mares before him.

non deberiamos ternos aproximado a aquel lugar. Como a maioría dos terreos de cultivo ás aforas de Lotus, Georgia, este tiña signos de advertencia abondo. As ameazas colgaban das mallas de arame que facían de valado, con estacas de madeira a uns cincuenta pés unhas das outras. Pero ao ver un lugar polo que se colara algún animal escavando na terra – quizás un coiote, ou un cazamapaches – non o puidemos resistir. Eramos nenos. A ela a herba chegáballe ata os ombreiros e a min pola cintura así que, tomando precaucións contra as serpes, furamos por alí sobre as nosas barrigas. O dano que nos fixeron nos ollos o zume das herbas e as nubes de mosquitos foi ben recompensado, porque xusto diante nosa, a unhas cincuenta iardas, estaban alí chantados. Os cascos batendo e golpeando o aire, as crinas ondeando desde uns ollos brancos e indomables. Mordíanse coma cans pero cando se erguían, apoiados nos cuartos traseiros, as mans nas cernellas do outro, contiñamos a respiración asombrados. Un era perlino e outro negro escuro, ambos co sol brillando na suor. Os relinchos non daban tanto medo como o silencio que seguía cada patada dos cuartos traseiros nos beizos levantados do opoñente. Cerca, poldros e eguas, indiferentes, adentaban a herba ou miraban cara outro lado. Logo cesou. O perlino baixou a cabeza e pateou o chan mentres o vencedor se apartou describindo un arco, apartando as eguas que atopaba no seu camiño.

As we elbowed back through the grass looking for the dug-out place, avoiding the line of parked trucks beyond, we lost our way. Although it took forever to re-sight the fence, neither of us panicked until we heard voices, urgent but low. I grabbed her arm and put a finger to my lips. Never lifting our head, just peeping through the grass, we saw them pull a body from a wheelbarrow and throw it into a hole already waiting. One foot stuck up over the edge and quivered, as though it could get out, as though with a little effort it could break through the dirt being shoveled in. We could not see the faces of the men doing the burying, only their trousers; but we saw the edge of a spade drive the jerking foot down to join the rest of itself. When she saw that black foot with its creamy pink and mud-streaked sole being whacked into the grave, her whole body began to shake. I hugged her shoulders tight and tried to pull her trembling into my own bones because, as a brother four years older, I thought I could handle it. The men were long gone and the moon was a cantaloupe by the time we felt safe enough to disturb even one blade of grass and move on our stomachs, searching for the scooped-out part under the fence. When we got home we expected to be whipped or at least scolded for staying out so late, but grown-ups did not notice us. Some disturbance had their attention.

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perdémonos cando volvíamos, sobre os cóbados e a través da herba, buscando o buraco na cerca e evitando a ringleira de camións aparcados no outro lado. Inda que nos levou unha eternidade volver ver a cerca, ningún dos dous se asustou ata que oímos as voces, urxentes pero baixas. Agarreille un brazo e puxen un dedo aos beizos. Sen levantar a cabeza, só fitando a través da herba, vímolos turrar un corpo dunha carretilla e guindalo nun buraco xa feito. Saía un pé por un lado e moveuse, como se fose quen de saír, como se cun pequeno esforzo puidese atravesar toda a terra que lle estaban a botar enriba. Non viamos as faces dos homes que estaban facendo o soterramento, só os seus pantalóns; pero podiamos ver o estremo dunha pala meter o pé, que se sacudía, xunto co resto. Cando veu aquel pé negro coa súa soa rosada e lixada de lama sendo golpeada para dentro da tumba, comezou a tremerlle todo o corpo. Aperteina forte nos ombreiros e tentei que o seu tremor pasase aos meus osos porque, como irmán catro anos maior, pensei que podería manexar a cousa. Os homes xa se foran había tempo e a lúa era un cantalupo cando nos sentimos seguros abondo para perturbar tan sequera unha herba e movernos sobre os nosos estómagos, buscando o buraco por baixo da valla. Ao chegar a casa esperabamos que nos bateran ou cando menos nos rifaran por chegar tan tarde, pero os maiores non se decataron de nós. Algunha amoladura desviou a súa atención.

Since you’re set on telling my story, whatever you think and whatever you write down, know this: I really forgot about the burial. I only remembered the horses. They were so beautiful. So brutal. And they stood like men.

xa que te propós contar a miña historia, sexa o que sexa o que penses e sexa o que sexa que escribas, ten isto en conta: esquecín o soterramento, esa é a verdade. Lembrei só os cabalos. Eran tan fermosos. Tan brutais. E como homes quedaron.

tradución mala por @xindiriz

cousas que investigar (cando menos estas): ‘rust-colored’ (perlino) & ‘coon dog’ (cazamapaches) & ‘like men they stood’ (…?’)
'Home': Toni Morrison e a claridade