martes, 4 de octubre de 2011

KALP İÇİNDE ADIMLAR!

As a gift to Sema Zor, my new turkish buddy, I translate the post "PASOS EN EL CORAZÓN" to english (or I tried to) I apologize if you find grammar or ortographic mistakes, there's a long time without practicing the language.


STEPS ON THE HEART

It happened Thursday afternoon, it was autumn and “the white days” had come. Without sun and plenty of wind, the few who ventures to the street goes well covered with jackets or coats.

I was walking over Reforma, thoughtful and aimlessly, without paying attention around me, when suddenly a scent completely contrasting to the cold and dry autumn air invaded me, a mix of jazmin and cherry.

The scent make me lift my eyes in order to look for its source. There she was, covered by a black coat, walking just by my side. Her black hair neatly tied in a bun, leaving uncovered a mole behind the long and white neck that the coat neither covered. Under the coat, her wrapped in black stockings legs and black round toe shoes, similar to those used by the flamenco dancers.

I changed my way and follow her to a newsstand in which she bought a cigarette and I could observe her face while pretended to be looking the magazines. Around 27 years old, soft skin, fine features nuanced by a expression denoting concern or a deep concentration.

She lighted up her cigarette and started walking again with me behind her when I notice something strange on the way she moved. Her steps were rhythmic, paused, trustful, but slow. I had time enough to cross the street in order to follow her without being seen. She produced a strange attraction effect around her; some people around stopped to smell her or see her, just like happened to me, now following a girl so deeply concentrated on her thoughts that didn´t even notice was happening around her.

She turned left and get in to an old building with an unpainted wooden door. Unable to restrain my impulse, I cross the street running and walk carefully through the door. While I was climbing those old, rickety and crooked stairs, I felt my chest vibrating at the rhythm of her steps, bum… bum… bum… it shuddered me strongly, trapped by that strange feeling. At the end of the stairs, I arrive to some kind of lobby, where two men in dark suits and hats were speaking familiarly with her, and one helped her to get out the coat.

That move showed me a stylized body, covered by a tight red dress, wich contrasted with the dreadful illumination of the place, increasing her nororiety. Her neckline was high enough to let me the rest of her body to my imagination, but low enough to get me imaginative. The dress was simple with straight lines, without many details, but a slit on the left side that almost reach the hip, revealing a long and shapely leg in each step of her while she crossed the room until one door on the other side.

I was about to turn around and leave the place when one of the men made me a sign inviting me to pass to the next room with him, the vibrations came back, now fasters, rhythmical, constant, insistant.

I walk without seeing my host, I’m sure that he said something, but I didn’t hear him. I walked like hypnotized to the next room, decided to see her again.

My chest kept shaking me, the new room was huge and very dark, many people had their sight in the illuminated center of the room, looking at the girl in red.

Suddenly, a guy appear from the darkness, got close of her with decision and took her waist, recline his head to her neck and smell her perfume at the same time that his hand caress her arm, and she hug his waist with one of her legs.

I look around trying to recognize where I was.

At the end of the room, a band was playing their instruments at the rhythm of my chest, at the rhythm of her steps. Around the center I started to distinguish small tables with 2 or 4 people each one. My host was speaking to me closely without notice that due to my condition, I wasn´t able to hear him.

-“She dances tango”. – I read on his lips when turn my sight to him.

-“I, I just can feel it”

Tango, a sad feeling, that is danced.

2 comentarios:

  1. chale ponlo en español porque no hablo nadita en inglish mas que yes jojo

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  2. Veo que ya encontraste la publicación en español. Esta está dedicada a una amiga turca que no entiende español, pero estudia inglés y a quien le llamó la atención el video y quería leer la historia.

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