Los del otro lado
_¡No te vayas, quédate! –suplicaron ante el rostro petrificado.
_Llévame contigo, no me dejes sola –gritaron mientras arañaban el vidrio del ataúd con las uñas.
Ayer vinieron a buscarme, pero uno del grupo dijo:
_¡Los del otro lado todavía lloran mucho! ¡Venimos luego a buscarte! –y se fueron con su andar por encima de la tierra desierta, sin que los pies tocaran el suelo. No los llamé, aunque quise, porque los del otro lado dijeron mi nombre y cada vez que dicen mi nombre, es necesario que me quede porque si me voy, dentro de mí algo se arranca y para poder irse definitivamente, hay que irse entero.
_¡Pobrecito, que Dios lo tenga en el cielo! –dice la tía orando.
_¡Que papito Dios lo tenga cerquita de él! –ruega la abuela en su rezo.
Y yo sigo aquí, todavía, sin poder irme.
La imagen es gratuita y el texto fue traducido con Deepl
HASTA UNA PRÓXIMA OPORTUNIDAD, AMIGOS
[Versión en inglés]
Those on the other side
Mourning their clothes and crying in the early morning, they walk through the house without knowing that they torment me. The thin walls are not enough to silence their sad and plaintive walk, their daily silence, trapped of glances, their heartbreaking wailing in the middle of nowhere. Over the coffin, they cried:
_Don't go, stay! -they pleaded before the petrified face.
Take me with you, don't leave me alone,” they shouted as they scratched the glass of the coffin with their fingernails.
They lit white candles and placed flowers in front of the image resting on a table. Every time the breeze turns off the light, they scream and cry, terrified, with sickly insistence, and everything turns dark again in front of my eyes. It is as if the plaintive crying were a magnet or chain holding me tightly to this house.
Yesterday they came looking for me, but one of the group said:
_The ones on the other side are still crying a lot! _We'll come later to get you! -and they went off with their gait over the deserted land, without their feet touching the ground. I did not call them, even though I wanted to, because those on the other side said my name and every time they say my name, it is necessary for me to stay because if I leave, something inside me is torn away and to be able to leave definitively, one must leave whole.
Sometimes, all too often, those on the other side make a cry that is like an unexpected flash of lightning that makes the rivers stand still and the birds go blind. There is no way forward. I have been stopped at the same spot for a long time and this whole landscape is already alien:
_Pobrecito, may God keep him in heaven! -says the aunt praying.
May Daddy God keep him close to him! -prays the grandmother in her prayer.
And I'm still here, still unable to leave.