Mi amigo Keith me decía el otro día que a veces le gustaría poder saber qué escribo en mi blog, algo dífícil para él, pues es inglés y no habla nada de español. Republico por ello una antigua entrada, A Light Scar, pero esta vez en inglés. Para ello, usé Google Translate para una primera traducción e hice mis propias correcciones sobre el resultado, pero el texto final ha sido posible gracias a otra amiga, esta vez la linda Amber, que tuvo la paciencia de revisar y corregir el texto que le envié, y que ella, siendo bilingüe, podía ajustar con mucho más acierto que un traductor automático o yo.
She felt how her stomach was filled up with colourful butterflies and dancing dragonflies. She danced in the streets still wet from the sprinklers, stepping in all puddles on the way, jumping happily in each of them and splashing around. She reached the grand avenue, where the night gave way to a sunny morning, and soon became a swarm of happy rowdy children playing tag just for the mere pleasure of running and shouting with the nerves and emotion you feel when someone tries to chase you, filling the air with laughter. And several couples, oblivious to the scene, looked at each other, and whispered words of love seated on the benches of the promenade. Mad as she was, excited, she didn’t see a slight red stain sticking out on her shirt, and that was getting larger at every step she took and went down shaking from her heart, drawing on her left flank a line that reached her belly and stopped. It was probably a wound, not fatal, but deep enough to fill the air of sad grey butterflies and dim dragonflies that fled from her inside, and covered the sun and brought night to the morning...
She stopped dead, adjusted her breathing and inhaled deeply filling her lungs with fresh and new air. She looked at the sky, black and starless, and felt no fear or sadness, and that way, staring into the darkness, she ran her hands along her shirt, muttered a few words with conviction and went back to her walk resolutely, while in time to her calm walk, the wound was healing, leaving a faint mark, and the light returned slowly to the street…
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