["Excuse me..." said Tintin as he shyly opened the door of Martine's room in the hospital].
"¡Señor Tintin! ¿Usted aquí?" Martine estaba sorprendida, trató de arreglar un poco su cabello y su bata. Al ver que no servía de mucho para mejorar su aspecto, rió nerviosa. "Perdón, estoy hecha un desastre".
["Mister Tintin! You, here?" Martine was surprised, she tried to fix her hair and her hospital clothes a little. When she realized it didn't help much to make her looks better, she laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess"].
Era cierto, era un desastre, Tintin observó con tristeza. No era su cabello alborotado, o sus ojeras, o sus arrugadas ropas de hospital, sino sus brazos cubiertos de vendas.
[Indeed, she was a mess, Tintin noticed with sadness. It wasn't her wild, disheveled hair, or the bags under her eyes, or her wrinkled clothes, but her arms covered with bandages].
"Supe que hoy te daban de alta..." Dijo mientras se acercaba lentamente a su cama y se sentó en una silla a su lado. "Siento no haber venido antes".
["I heard you'd be discharged today..." He said as he slowly approached her bedside and sat on a chair next to her, "I apologize for not coming before"].
"No se preocupe, su amigo, el Capitán, ha venido a verme un par de días. Me ha regalado gafas nuevas y me dijo que usted se encontraba recluido en casa escribiendo su artículo".
["Don't worry, your friend, the Captain, has come here a couple of days. He's bought me new glasses and told me you were busy at home writing your article"].
"De hecho, es el que tengo aquí", dijo señalando su maletín. "Iba camino a entregarlo, cuando pasé por aquí y decidí darle una visita antes". Milou sacudió la cabeza ante flagrante mentira, pero Martine no podía verlo desde su cama.
["In fact, it's the one I have here", he said pointing his briefcase. "I was on my way to deliver it, when I passed by and decided to pay you a visit". Milou shook his head to such a blatant lie, but Martine couldn't see him from her bed].
"¿Puedo leerlo?" preguntó de la nada.
["Can I read it?" she asked out of nowhere].
"¿Q-Qué?" La pregunta tomó a Tintin por sorpresa. "No debería... la editorial prefiere que..."
["W-What?" The question took Tintin by surprise. "You shouldn't... the publishing company..."]
"¡Oh, puede confiar en mi! Soy devota a cada uno de sus artículos, no podría traicionarlo. Prometo que nada saldrá de esta habitación", suplicó Martine.
["Oh, you can trust me! I'm an ardent reader of every one of your articles, I'd never betray you. I promise nothing will come out of this room", begged Martine].
No podía decirle no.
[He couldn't say no to that].
Con algo de inseguridad, le pasó cuidadosamente el puñado de hojas que guardaba en su maletín. Sintió que sus mejillas se acaloraban un poco, puesto que nunca había mostrado a alguien un trabajo suyo sin edición previa de Le Petit Vingtieme, con su puño y letra además...
[With uncertainty, he carefully handled her the bunch of sheets he had inside his briefcase. He felt his cheeks warm a little, as he had never shown to anybody a work of his before Le Petit Vingtieme's editing process, and written by his own hand to boot].
Lo cierto es que esta vez, no había filtrado absolutamente nada, pues estaba seguro de que el jefe de la editorial se encargaría de filtrarlo por él. Se encargaría de despojarlo de la inseguridad, del temor, del odio, del amor. Puliría el artículo hasta obtener una deslumbrante aventura. Era lo que el diario vendía.
[Truth be told, just this time, he didn't filter anything, for he was sure the editor-in chief would make sure to do it for him. He would make sure to clean him of insecurity, of fear, of hate, of love. He would polish the article to get a stunning adventure. It was what the newspaper sold].
¿Le gustaría? ¿Lo odiaría?
[Would she like it? Would she hate it?]
Después de un buen rato, Martine terminó de leer. Estaba seria. Cuando empezó a hablar, a Tintin se le heló la sangre...
[After a while, Martine finished reading. Her expression was serious. When she started talking, Tintin felt his blood freeze...]
"Señor Tintin, me mintieron".
["Mister Tintin, I've been lied to"].
"Es porque no se suponía que leyeras esto ahora. Está sin editar", dijo decepcionado mientras recuperaba su articulo. Era como ella misma dijo. Ella era devota de sus artículos, de la editorial, de Le Petit Vingtieme... no de él. ¿Qué estaba pensando? Que tonto fue. Exponiéndose así...
["That's because you weren't supposed to read this yet. It's unedited", he said disappointed as he got his article back. It was as she said. She was a fan of his articles, of the publishing company, of Le Petit Vingtieme... not his. What was he thinking? How stupid of him. Exposing himself like that...]
"Usted sí pudo haber venido, pero no lo hizo..."
["You could have come here, but you didn't..."]
Quedó de una pieza. No se trataba de la edición, se trataba de él, pero...
[He was shocked. It wasn't about the edition, it was about him, but...]
"¿Cómo lo supo?" Murmuró.
["How did you know?" He whispered].
"¿Tiene miedo... de mí?"
["Are you afraid... of me?"]
"Señorita Martine, yo..." No sabía que decir, así que sujetó su mano.
["Miss Martine, I..." He didn't know what to say, so he held her hand].
"No tiene nada que temer". Aún así tenía miedo.
["You have nothing to be afraid of". Even so, he was afraid].
"Pero es mi culpa que casi-"
["But it's my fault you almost-"]
"Intentaba protegerme". Miedo de perderla de verdad.
["You were trying to protect me". Afraid he'd someday loose her].
"Pero-!"
["But-!"]
"Sé que no era su intención" dijo interrumpiéndolo nuevamente y apretando su mano de vuelta. "Sólo... prometa que no volverá a encerrarme. Yo prometo no meterme en problemas".
["I know it wasn't your intention" she said, interrupting him again and squeezing his hand back. "Just... Promise me you won't lock me in again. I promise I'll stay out of trouble".]
"No lo haré... Nunca más lo haré". Tintin suspiró. No estaba aliviado aún, pues sabía que con su suerte, Martine estaría en peligro nuevamente, quiéralo o no. Sonrió cuando vio que Martine estaba sonriendo en su dirección.
["I won't... I'll never do it again". Tintin sighed. He wasn't relieved yet, for he knew that with her luck, Martine would be in danger again, with or without her consent. He smiled when he saw Martine smiling in his direction].
"Mírese. Entonces estaba muy preocupada... Al final, apenas y terminó con un chichón en la cabeza".
["Look at yourself. Back then I was so worried... In the end, you only ended up with a little bump in the head"].
Rieron. Esa era su suerte. Que las balas le rozaran y ser duro de cabeza. Pero aún había algo que le inquietaba...
[They laughed. That was his luck. Bullets only grazed his skin and he had a hard skull. But there was still something that intrigued him...]
"¿Cómo...?" Te diste cuenta de..
["How...?"] Did you notice...
"Aprendí algo de grafología para poder explicar las piezas de Arte Alfa del señor Nash a los clientes de la galería".
["I learned some graphology to try to explain mister Nash's Alph Art pieces to the visitors of the gallery"].
Eso... Lo explicaba todo.
[That... Explained everything].
Después de un rato hablando del clima, Martine le pidió a Tintin que hablara de sus aventuras. Así habló de las partes que no se leian en el periódico, de la gente que conoció, de Tchang, del Capitán, de Molinsart, de los Alcazar. No se había percatado del tiempo hasta que llegó el doctor de turno a darle el alta a Martine.
[After talking about the weather for awhile, Martine asked Tintin to talk about his adventures. He talked about the parts that she didn't read in the newspaper, of the people he met, of Tchang, of the Captain, of Moulisnart, of the Alcazars. He hadn't realized how much time had passed, until the doctor came in to release Martine].
Antes de que Tintin se retirara de la habitación, Martine le pidió que la acompañara a su hogar y que le siguiera contando sus historias. Vivía al otro lado del parque, eran unos diez minutos caminando.
[Before Tintin left the room, Martine asked him to accompany her home, so that he could tell her more about his adventures. She lived across the park, about ten minutes on foot].
Era un buen día para caminar en el parque. Habían niños jugando por todos lados. Le recordaban a ese valiente niño beisbolista que conoció fugazmente en Chicago y decidió que esa era la historia que le contaría.
[It was a nice day for a walk in the park. There were kids playing all over the place. They reminded him of that brave beisball player kid he met in Chicago and he decided that was the story he would talk about next].
"Señor Tintin..." Interrumpió Martine. Faltaba muy poco para llegar a su departamento.
["Mister Tintin..." said Martine, interrupting him. They were very near her appatment now].
Tintin la observó con atención, una brisa fresca comenzó a correr.
[Tintin watched her intently, as a low breeze began to blow].
"Me gustan más sus historias sin edición".
["I like your unedited stories the most"].
Ese mismo instante, su mundo dio mil vueltas. No entendía porqué escuchaba los latidos de su corazón en su cabeza, apenas y podía pensar, pero mientras estaba en las nubes, sus labios hablaron como si tuvieran alma propia. Lo que dijo a continuación, no era producto de su imaginación.
[In that very instant, his world spun a thousand times. He couldn't understand why he heard the beats of his heart on his head, he could barely even think. But as his mind was in the clouds, his lips moved as if they had a life of their own. What he said next, wasn't a product of his imagination].
"¿Señorita Martine?"
["Miss Martine?"]
Era lo que sentía.
[It was how he felt].
"¿Si?"
["Yes?"]
Lo que de verdad sentía.
[How he really felt].
"Me gustas..."
["I like you..."]
Unedited
"¡Señor Tintin! ¿Usted aquí?" Martine estaba sorprendida, trató de arreglar un poco su cabello y su bata. Al ver que no servía de mucho para mejorar su aspecto, rió nerviosa. "Perdón, estoy hecha un desastre".
["Mister Tintin! You, here?" Martine was surprised, she tried to fix her hair and her hospital clothes a little. When she realized it didn't help much to make her looks better, she laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess"].
Era cierto, era un desastre, Tintin observó con tristeza. No era su cabello alborotado, o sus ojeras, o sus arrugadas ropas de hospital, sino sus brazos cubiertos de vendas.
[Indeed, she was a mess, Tintin noticed with sadness. It wasn't her wild, disheveled hair, or the bags under her eyes, or her wrinkled clothes, but her arms covered with bandages].
"Supe que hoy te daban de alta..." Dijo mientras se acercaba lentamente a su cama y se sentó en una silla a su lado. "Siento no haber venido antes".
["I heard you'd be discharged today..." He said as he slowly approached her bedside and sat on a chair next to her, "I apologize for not coming before"].
"No se preocupe, su amigo, el Capitán, ha venido a verme un par de días. Me ha regalado gafas nuevas y me dijo que usted se encontraba recluido en casa escribiendo su artículo".
["Don't worry, your friend, the Captain, has come here a couple of days. He's bought me new glasses and told me you were busy at home writing your article"].
"De hecho, es el que tengo aquí", dijo señalando su maletín. "Iba camino a entregarlo, cuando pasé por aquí y decidí darle una visita antes". Milou sacudió la cabeza ante flagrante mentira, pero Martine no podía verlo desde su cama.
["In fact, it's the one I have here", he said pointing his briefcase. "I was on my way to deliver it, when I passed by and decided to pay you a visit". Milou shook his head to such a blatant lie, but Martine couldn't see him from her bed].
"¿Puedo leerlo?" preguntó de la nada.
["Can I read it?" she asked out of nowhere].
"¿Q-Qué?" La pregunta tomó a Tintin por sorpresa. "No debería... la editorial prefiere que..."
["W-What?" The question took Tintin by surprise. "You shouldn't... the publishing company..."]
"¡Oh, puede confiar en mi! Soy devota a cada uno de sus artículos, no podría traicionarlo. Prometo que nada saldrá de esta habitación", suplicó Martine.
["Oh, you can trust me! I'm an ardent reader of every one of your articles, I'd never betray you. I promise nothing will come out of this room", begged Martine].
No podía decirle no.
[He couldn't say no to that].
Con algo de inseguridad, le pasó cuidadosamente el puñado de hojas que guardaba en su maletín. Sintió que sus mejillas se acaloraban un poco, puesto que nunca había mostrado a alguien un trabajo suyo sin edición previa de Le Petit Vingtieme, con su puño y letra además...
[With uncertainty, he carefully handled her the bunch of sheets he had inside his briefcase. He felt his cheeks warm a little, as he had never shown to anybody a work of his before Le Petit Vingtieme's editing process, and written by his own hand to boot].
Lo cierto es que esta vez, no había filtrado absolutamente nada, pues estaba seguro de que el jefe de la editorial se encargaría de filtrarlo por él. Se encargaría de despojarlo de la inseguridad, del temor, del odio, del amor. Puliría el artículo hasta obtener una deslumbrante aventura. Era lo que el diario vendía.
[Truth be told, just this time, he didn't filter anything, for he was sure the editor-in chief would make sure to do it for him. He would make sure to clean him of insecurity, of fear, of hate, of love. He would polish the article to get a stunning adventure. It was what the newspaper sold].
¿Le gustaría? ¿Lo odiaría?
[Would she like it? Would she hate it?]
Después de un buen rato, Martine terminó de leer. Estaba seria. Cuando empezó a hablar, a Tintin se le heló la sangre...
[After a while, Martine finished reading. Her expression was serious. When she started talking, Tintin felt his blood freeze...]
"Señor Tintin, me mintieron".
["Mister Tintin, I've been lied to"].
"Es porque no se suponía que leyeras esto ahora. Está sin editar", dijo decepcionado mientras recuperaba su articulo. Era como ella misma dijo. Ella era devota de sus artículos, de la editorial, de Le Petit Vingtieme... no de él. ¿Qué estaba pensando? Que tonto fue. Exponiéndose así...
["That's because you weren't supposed to read this yet. It's unedited", he said disappointed as he got his article back. It was as she said. She was a fan of his articles, of the publishing company, of Le Petit Vingtieme... not his. What was he thinking? How stupid of him. Exposing himself like that...]
"Usted sí pudo haber venido, pero no lo hizo..."
["You could have come here, but you didn't..."]
Quedó de una pieza. No se trataba de la edición, se trataba de él, pero...
[He was shocked. It wasn't about the edition, it was about him, but...]
"¿Cómo lo supo?" Murmuró.
["How did you know?" He whispered].
"¿Tiene miedo... de mí?"
["Are you afraid... of me?"]
"Señorita Martine, yo..." No sabía que decir, así que sujetó su mano.
["Miss Martine, I..." He didn't know what to say, so he held her hand].
"No tiene nada que temer". Aún así tenía miedo.
["You have nothing to be afraid of". Even so, he was afraid].
"Pero es mi culpa que casi-"
["But it's my fault you almost-"]
"Intentaba protegerme". Miedo de perderla de verdad.
["You were trying to protect me". Afraid he'd someday loose her].
"Pero-!"
["But-!"]
"Sé que no era su intención" dijo interrumpiéndolo nuevamente y apretando su mano de vuelta. "Sólo... prometa que no volverá a encerrarme. Yo prometo no meterme en problemas".
["I know it wasn't your intention" she said, interrupting him again and squeezing his hand back. "Just... Promise me you won't lock me in again. I promise I'll stay out of trouble".]
"No lo haré... Nunca más lo haré". Tintin suspiró. No estaba aliviado aún, pues sabía que con su suerte, Martine estaría en peligro nuevamente, quiéralo o no. Sonrió cuando vio que Martine estaba sonriendo en su dirección.
["I won't... I'll never do it again". Tintin sighed. He wasn't relieved yet, for he knew that with her luck, Martine would be in danger again, with or without her consent. He smiled when he saw Martine smiling in his direction].
"Mírese. Entonces estaba muy preocupada... Al final, apenas y terminó con un chichón en la cabeza".
["Look at yourself. Back then I was so worried... In the end, you only ended up with a little bump in the head"].
Rieron. Esa era su suerte. Que las balas le rozaran y ser duro de cabeza. Pero aún había algo que le inquietaba...
[They laughed. That was his luck. Bullets only grazed his skin and he had a hard skull. But there was still something that intrigued him...]
"¿Cómo...?" Te diste cuenta de..
["How...?"] Did you notice...
"Aprendí algo de grafología para poder explicar las piezas de Arte Alfa del señor Nash a los clientes de la galería".
["I learned some graphology to try to explain mister Nash's Alph Art pieces to the visitors of the gallery"].
Eso... Lo explicaba todo.
[That... Explained everything].
Después de un rato hablando del clima, Martine le pidió a Tintin que hablara de sus aventuras. Así habló de las partes que no se leian en el periódico, de la gente que conoció, de Tchang, del Capitán, de Molinsart, de los Alcazar. No se había percatado del tiempo hasta que llegó el doctor de turno a darle el alta a Martine.
[After talking about the weather for awhile, Martine asked Tintin to talk about his adventures. He talked about the parts that she didn't read in the newspaper, of the people he met, of Tchang, of the Captain, of Moulisnart, of the Alcazars. He hadn't realized how much time had passed, until the doctor came in to release Martine].
Antes de que Tintin se retirara de la habitación, Martine le pidió que la acompañara a su hogar y que le siguiera contando sus historias. Vivía al otro lado del parque, eran unos diez minutos caminando.
[Before Tintin left the room, Martine asked him to accompany her home, so that he could tell her more about his adventures. She lived across the park, about ten minutes on foot].
Era un buen día para caminar en el parque. Habían niños jugando por todos lados. Le recordaban a ese valiente niño beisbolista que conoció fugazmente en Chicago y decidió que esa era la historia que le contaría.
[It was a nice day for a walk in the park. There were kids playing all over the place. They reminded him of that brave beisball player kid he met in Chicago and he decided that was the story he would talk about next].
"Señor Tintin..." Interrumpió Martine. Faltaba muy poco para llegar a su departamento.
["Mister Tintin..." said Martine, interrupting him. They were very near her appatment now].
Tintin la observó con atención, una brisa fresca comenzó a correr.
[Tintin watched her intently, as a low breeze began to blow].
"Me gustan más sus historias sin edición".
["I like your unedited stories the most"].
Ese mismo instante, su mundo dio mil vueltas. No entendía porqué escuchaba los latidos de su corazón en su cabeza, apenas y podía pensar, pero mientras estaba en las nubes, sus labios hablaron como si tuvieran alma propia. Lo que dijo a continuación, no era producto de su imaginación.
[In that very instant, his world spun a thousand times. He couldn't understand why he heard the beats of his heart on his head, he could barely even think. But as his mind was in the clouds, his lips moved as if they had a life of their own. What he said next, wasn't a product of his imagination].
"¿Señorita Martine?"
["Miss Martine?"]
Era lo que sentía.
[It was how he felt].
"¿Si?"
["Yes?"]
Lo que de verdad sentía.
[How he really felt].
"Me gustas..."
["I like you..."]
Canción
Unedited
clic para ver el tamaño original
Entradas
0 °C:
Publicar un comentario