Todava con la estola morada alrededor del cuello, porque haba olvidado que la

llevaba
puesta, el padre Ralph se inclin sobre el fuego de la cocina y reanim las brasas,
apag la
lmpara de encima de la mesa y se sent en una banqueta de madera, delante de
Meggie, y
observ a la nia. Haba crecido; se haba puesto unas botas de siete leguas que
amenazaban
con dejarle atrs; y entonces, mientras la observaba, sinti ms agudamente que
nunca su
insuficiencia, en una vida roda siempre por una duda obsesiva sobre su propio
valor. Pero,
qu tema? Qu era lo que pensaba que no podra resistir, cuando se
presentase? Poda ser
fuerte frente a los dems; no tema a los dems. Pero senta miedo dentro de s
mismo,
esperando que aquel algo annimo se deslizara en su conciencia cuando menos lo
esperase.
Mientras tanto, Meggie, que haba nacido dieciocho aos despus que l, creca y
le dejaba
atrs.
Y no era que ella fuese una santa, o que lo fuera ms que la mayora. Pero nunca
se
quejaba; tena el don o la desgracia? de la aceptacin. Pasara lo que
pasase, le haca
frente y lo aceptaba, lo guardaba para alimentar el horno de su ser. Quin se lo
haba'
enseado? Poda ensearse sto? O acaso la imagen que se haba forjado de
ella era una
ficcin de su propia fantasa? Qu importaba en realidad? Qu era ms
importante: lo que
era realmente ella, o lo que l pensaba que era?
Oh, Meggie! dijo, desalentado.

Purple stole around his neck because he . had forgotten he

was
wearing it, Father Ralph bent to the kitchen fire and built it up
from
embers into a blaze, turned down the lamp on the table
behind, and
sat on a wooden bench opposite Meggie to watch her. She had
grown, put on seven-league boots which threatened to leave
him
behind, outstripped; he felt his inadequacy then more keenly,
watching her, than ever he had in a life filled with a gnawing,

obsessive doubt of his courage. Only what was he afraid of?

What
did he think he couldn't face if it came? He could be strong
for other
people, he didn't fear other people; but within himself,
expecting
that nameless something to come sliding into consciousness
when
he least expected it, he knew fear. While Meggie, born
eighteen
years after him, was growing beyond him. Not that she was a
saint,
or indeed anything more than most. Only that she never
complained, that she had the gift-or was it the curse?-of
acceptance.
No matter what had gone or what might come, she confronted
it and
accepted it, stored it away to fuel the furnace of her being.
What had
taught her that? Could it be taught? Or was his idea of her a
figment
of his own fantasies? Did it really matter? Which was more
important: what she truly was, or what he thought she was?
"Oh, Meggie," he said helplessly.

Verla desgraciada se le
haca intolerable, y, sin embargo, le atemorizaba la manera en que se estaba
atando a ella por
la concurrencia de los acontecimientos. Estaba acumulando un arsenal de hechos
y recuerdos
de ella, y esto le espantaba. El cario que senta por la nia y su instinto sacerdotal
de
ofrecerse en cualquier ocasin espiritual que lo exigiese as, se mezclaban con el
pnico
obsesivo de hacerse absolutamente necesario a otro ser humano y de que otro ser
humano

llegase a ser absolutamente necesario para l.

He couldn't bear to see her

unhappy, yet he shrank from the way he was tying himself to
her by
an accumulation of events. He was making a whole arsenal of
happenings and memories out of her, and he was afraid. His
love for
her and his priestly instinct to offer himself in any required
spiritual
capacity warred with an obsessive horror of becoming utterly
necessary to someone human, and of having someone human
become utterly necessary to himself.

Se equivoca. Yo le he amado. Y cunto, Dios mo! Cree que mis aos lo impiden
automticamente? Bueno, padre De Bricassart, permtame que le diga una cosa.
Dentro de
este estpido cuerpo, soy todava joven; todava siento, todava deseo, todava
sueo, todava
pataleo y maldigo las restricciones que me atan, como mi cuerpo mismo. La vejez
es la peor
venganza con que nos aflige un Dios vengativo. Por qu no hace que tambin
envejezcan
nuestras mentes? Se ech atrs en el silln y cerr los ojos, mostrando unos
dientes crueles. Yo ir al infierno, desde luego. Pero espero que antes tendr la
oportunidad de
decirle a Dios lo que pienso de l!

You're wrong. I have loved you. God, how much! Do you

think my
years automatically preclude it? Well, Father de Bricassart, let
me
tell you something. Inside this stupid body I'm still young-I
still
feel, I still want, I still dream, I still kick up my heels and
chafe at
restrictions like my body. Old age is the bitterest vengeance
our

vengeful God inflicts upon us. Why doesn't He age our minds
as
well?" She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, her
teeth
showing sourly. "I shall go to Hell, of course. But before I do,
I
hope I get the chance to tell God what a mean, spiteful, pitiful
apology of a God He is!"

Se detuvo en el otro extremo del prado y se qued contemplando el cielo, como en

una
bsqueda instintiva de Dios. S; all, en alguna parte, entre aquellos titilantes
puntos luminosos,
puros y alejados de la Tierra. Qu haba en el cielo nocturno? Acaso al
levantarse la tapa
azul del da, poda el hombre atisbar la eternidad? Slo la contemplacin del
inmenso
panorama de las estrellas poda convencer al hombre de la existencia de Dios y de
la
eternidad.

He stopped on the far side of the lawn and stood looking up at

the
sky, an instinctive aerial searching for God. Yes, up there
somewhere, between the winking points of light so pure and
unearthly; what was it about the night sky? That the blue lid
of day
was lifted, a man permitted glimpses of eternity? Nothing
save
witnessing the strewn vista of the stars could convince a man
that
timelessness and God existed.

Pero, hay algo que saber o

adivinar? Slo vanidades... y soledad. Duda, dolor. Siempre dolor.

What is there to know, or guess? Only

futility, and loneliness. Doubt, pain. Always pain.

For the first time she was trying to meet him on his ground,
adult
ground; he could sense the difference in her as surely as he
could
smell the roses in Mary Carson's beautiful gardens. Roses.
Ashes of
roses. Roses, roses, everywhere. Petals in the grass. Roses of
summer, red and white and yellow. Perfume of roses, heavy
and
sweet in the night. Pink roses, bleached by the moon to ashes.
Ashes
of roses, ashes of roses. My Meggie, I have forsaken you. But
can't
you see, you've become a threat? Therefore have I crushed
you
beneath the heel of my ambition; you have no more substance
to me
than a bruised rose in the grass. The smell of roses. The smell
of
Mary Carson. Roses and ashes, ashes of roses.
"Ashes of roses," he said, mounting. "Let's get as far from the
smell
of roses as the moon. Tomorrow the house will be full of
them."
Por primera vez, se enfrentaba con l en su terreno, un terreno de adultos; l poda
percibir la diferencia que se haba producido en la joven con la misma seguridad
con que ola
las rosas de los hermosos jardines de Mary Carson. Rosas. Cenizas de rosas.
Rosas, rosas

por todas partes. Ptalos en la hierba. Rosas de verano, rojas y blancas y

amarillas. Perfumes
de rosas, fuerte y dulce en la noche. Rosas de color de rosa, blanqueadas de
ceniza por la
luna. Cenizas de rosas, cenizas de rosas. Te he traicionado, Meggie. Pero, no lo
comprendes? Te habas convertido en una amenaza. Por consiguiente, he tenido
que
aplastarte bajo la bota de mi ambicin; para m, no tienes ms sustancia que una
rosa
pisoteada sobre la hierba. Olor a rosas. El olor de Mary Carson. Rosas y cenizas,
cenizas de
rosas.
Cenizas de rosas dijo, montando a caballo. Alejmonos del olor de las
rosas, tanto
como la misma luna. Maana, la casa estar llena de ellas.

"I wonder why you tug so at my nonexistent heart?" he

mused,
deeming her too sick and miserable to listen but needing to
voice
his thoughts aloud, as do so many people who lead a solitary
life.
Me pregunto por qu habrs calado tan hondo en mi inexistente corazn susurr
el
sacerdote, pensando que ella estaba demasiado mareada y turbada para orle,
pero
necesitando expresar en voz alta sus pensamientos, como suele ocurrirles a los
que llevan una
vida solitaria.

"Oh, Paddy, what hell it is to be alive! Thank God I haven't

the
courage to try more than the fringe of it."
Oh, Paddy! La vida es un infierno! Gracias a Dios, yo no he tenido valor para
vivirla
plenamente.

Y, gra dualmente, empez a borrarse un poco su recuerdo, como suele

ocurrir incluso con el de aquellos que han sido muy amados; como si se produjese
en la mente
un proceso de cicatrizacin inconsciente, a pesar de nuestros desesperados
esfuerzos de no
olvidar jams.

And gradually his

memory slipped a little, as memories do, even those with so
much
love attached to them; as if there is an unconscious healing
process
within the mind which mends up in spite of our desperate
determination never to forget.

and to Meggie, closest to him in age, it seemed he could go

somewhere no one else could ever follow.
Meggie, que era la ms prxima a l en edad, tena la impresin de que
era capaz de ir a sitios donde nadie podra seguirle jams.

sus ojos eran tan claros como el agua

remansada bajo una sombra, como si se remontasen en el tiempo hasta los
orgenes y lo viese
todo como realmente era.

his eyes were as clear as pale

water in the shade, as if they reached all the way back in time
to the
very beginning, and saw everything as it really was.

Paddy and the boys loved it. Sometimes they spent days on
end in the saddle, miles away from the homestead, camping at
night under a sky so vast and filled with stars it seemed they
were a part of God.