James Joyce
UNA MUJER DORMIDA
Traducción de Guillermo Cabrera Infante
Ella dormía profundamente.
Gabriel,
apoyado en un codo, miró por un rato y sin resentimiento su pelo revuelto y su
boca entreabierta, oyendo su respiración profunda. De manera que ella tuvo un
amor así en la vida: un hombre había muerto por su causa. Apenas le dolía ahora
pensar en la pobre parte que él, su marido, había jugado en su vida. La miró
mientras dormía como si ella y él nunca hubieran sido marido y mujer. Sus ojos
curiosos se posaron un gran rato en su cara y su pelo: y, mientras pensaba
cómo habría sido ella entonces, por el tiempo de su primera belleza lozana, una
extraña y amistosa lástima por ella penetró en su alma. No quería decirse a sí
mismo que ya no era bella, pero sabía que su cara no era la cara por la que Michael
Furey desafió la muerte.
A SLEEPING WOMAN
by James Joyce
She was fast asleep.
Gabriel, leaning on his elbow, looked for a few moments unresentfully on her tangled hair and half-open mouth, listening to her deep-drawn breath. So she had had that romance in her life: a man had died for her sake. It hardly pained him now to think how poor a part he, her husband, had played in her life. He watched her while she slept, as though he and she had never lived together as man and wife. His curious eyes rested long upon her face and on her hair: and, as he thought of what she must have been then, in that time of her first girlish beauty, a strange, friendly pity for her entered his soul. He did not like to say even to himself that her face was no longer beautiful, but he knew that it was no longer the face for which Michael Furey had braved death.
Nota: "Una mujer dormida", en realidad, es un fragmento de esa obra maestra de Joyce, "Los muertos", que da cierre a Dublineses.
James Joyce
Dublineses
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