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Nynorsk

Cuento Lectura de labios,

(del libro La casa del juglar),en noruego.

Å LESE PÅ LIPPENE

            Eg lear på lippene og håpar at nokon utanfor desse veggene kan lesa dei og verte kjend med korleis stormane vert til og med stort og smått som skjer med oss når me opplever fargar og lukter klåre som lyden av ord. Denne kjeda av hendingar byrja ein ettermiddag på veg til bygda. Først la eg merke til lufta, sidan ei sky som brått vart til.

            Eg budde åleine. Brørne mine døydde same året. Kvar gong eg fekk meg kjærast slo ho opp – ikkje på grunn av meg, men på grunn av ranchen. Avdi eg ga meg god tid var eg godt kjend med vegen til bygda, som om eg kunne gjenkalle stillingane og augneblinkane rett før eg passerte staden der firfislene og sauene heldt til - nett den same staden der hesten min seinare trakka. Eg fylte dagane med å skape former av dei sterkaste linene frå kvart minne for ikkje å kjenne meg så einsam, trass i at eg var avvist.

            Skya eg fekk auge på denne ettermiddagen såg ikkje ut som ein hest slepande på greiner, men som ein bråtebrann - rett nok utan eld. Ho minte heller ikkje om den store ulven, avdi hundane følgde meg som om ingenting hende. Eg steig av hesten midt i det eg trudde var røyken og såg meg sjølv til knes i støv, men med støvlettane godt synlege. Det kjendest som om eg skulle drukne. Eg heiv meg ned og greidde å få att pusten. Over hovudet var det eit lågt tak. Eg såg hundane reise seg, oppslukte av tomrommet. Like ved låg nokre paradis-graner knust til pinneved. Eg prøvde å rulle rundt; unødvendig sidan eg brått var komen ut av skya, som drog seg attende og forsvann over marka lik ei blafrande prærievogn. I motsett retning gjekk hesten min amok, svøypt i si eiga skumrings-sky.

            Ein månad seinare hadde eg enno ikkje nemnt dette for nokon og ingen hadde ymta frampå om det som hadde skjedd. Den lett gjenkjennelege, flekkete hesten min vart gjenkjent på ranchen til Custodio Barragán, utan sadel og såra etter fleirfoldige fall. Då eg gjekk for finna han, visste eg om dei to gardsgutane som gjekk vaktrundar i nordmarka til Barragán nett den dagen då støvskya kom.

            ”Dei forsvann med hestane og sadlane”, fortalde Barragán.

            ”Skya tok dei. Dei vart tekne av skya”, fortalde eg han roleg og alvorsamt.

            ”Høyr nå her, Alcides, sadlane var våre”

            ”Skya tok hundane mine. Du skjønar, det eg gjorde var å varsla poltistasjonen. Dei må då synast ein eller annan stad.”

            Høyr her, Alcides. Ver ikkje dum. Eg kjende brørne dine. Ingen av dei prøvde nokon gong å lure meg. Det er lenge sidan folk her i bygda trudde på flygande heksekostar.”

            Så eg drog attende, løyste hesten frå seletøyet medan orda til Custido framleis let i øyro mine. Det var vondt å sjå hesten halte på eine foten og vanskeleg for meg å gå avdi kvar ei dum lita grøft verka uovervinneleg. Alt er villare, graset høgare, horisonten fjernare - alt verkar gråare og det kjennest som om du held på å få skyene i hovudet. Dyr veit når dei må gi tapt. Kan hende var det difor slangen beit meg i det eg nådde den siste toppen. 

            Då eg endeleg kom fram var det mørkt. og eg hadde store smerter i foten. Eg bar feltsenga ut og fann ly under ei grein, men hadde ikkje mot til å skjere der bitemerka var. Hytteveggene var blitt usynlege. Formene var synlege, men augo mine heldt fram der dei skulle ha stoppa opp. Det kunne minna om måneskin i den tydelege hyttefasongen. Då eg vart van med synet, kom brørne mine til syne utanfrå. Dei hadde kome inn frå den sida der det ikkje fannst dør og stod og prata som om dei budde seg til daglege sysler. Eg ynskte meg langt vekk der eg låg, mållaus og samankrølla på ei feltseng,. Det var som om den betne foten hadde vorten til tre. Eg slo meg til ro med at eg kunne vente til morgongry, få tak i ei kjerre og flytte alle tinga mine til ein stad full av folk og røyster. Då eg var klar til å ta kniven og skjere bort bitet, skjøna eg at veggene hadde vorte usynlege. Ei naken kvinne kom til syne i taket. Ho sat og veiva med armane som ei vindmølle. Ho hadde ulike steinar som ho kasta frå eine handa til den andre. Ho stogga, gnissa steinane mot kvarandre til det fata fyr. Ho kasta dei opp og bles på dei for å få dei til å stige høgre. Eg såg augneblinken då dei vart til torden og lyn. Det tok til å regne kraftig og så uventa at eg ikkje kunne gjera stort anna enn å kome meg inn i hytta. Brørne min omfamna meg og eg kunne høyre dei tale. Dei strauk foten min og sa: ”Alt er såre vel...., du er med oss, Alcides.”

Skrive av Leonardo Garet           Omsett til engelsk av Liliam Goncalves.        Omsett til norsk av Kåre Sandvik

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Kåre Sandvik (b.1953) was raised on Halsnøy south of Bergen, Norway, where he was brought up alongside 17-18 years old students on campus at a boarding school, Sunnhordland Folkehøgskule, where his father worked.
Kåre is looking forward to teaching Norwegian as a beginners language. He will also be involved in the music related activities at the College, where his passion and main competance lies.

Lip reading

I move my lips in the hope that someone beyond these walls can read them and get to know the story of what there is behind the formation of storms and of the big and small things that happen to us when we feel the colours and the smells as clear as the words when they had sound. This chain of events started when I went to the village one mid afternoon and the air first, and then the fast formation of a cloud, drew my attention.

I lived alone, my brothers had died the same year and each time I had a companion, she abandoned me saying it wasn’t because of me but because of the ranch. I knew the lane to the village very well because I did it slowly, as if I could rearrange the positions and the instants immediately prior to my passing by the place where the lizards and the sheep were, in the exact place where my horse trod later. I used to fill my days creating shapes with the strongest lines of each memory, so as not to be so lonely, despite the abandonments.

The cloud I discovered that afternoon wasn’t a horse pulling branches, it looked like a grass bonfire but there was no fire; neither it was the be wolf because the dogs followed me as if nothing happened. Then I got off the horse where I thought was the centre of the smoke and I saw myself with the dust above the knee and the boots in a clean air. That was becoming as choking as water so I threw myself onto the ground and managed to draw air into my lungs. Over my raised head there was a low roof and suddenly, I saw the dogs rising as if they were being swallowed by emptiness. Next to them some paradise trees were torn like weeds. I tried to roll over, but it was unnecessary as I was immediately out of the cloud that was retreating like a big cart, it wasn’t necessary since I was no longer in the cloud which was going away over the field like a cart with flying canvas. Towards the other side my horse was running amok wrapped in its own cloud of dusk.

A month passed by, I had made no comments about that with anybody and no one had said anything about the event. My horse was recognized spotted and identified in the Custodio Barragán´s ranch, unsaddled and wounded from various falls. When I went to look for it, I knew about the disappearance of the two labourers who were going on their rounds in the Barragán´s north field. Just on the day of the dust cloud.

“They ran away with the horses and the saddles”, Barragán told me.

“The cloud took them, they were taken away by the cloud”, I told him slowly and earnestly.

“Come on, Alcides, the saddles were ours”

“ The cloud took my dogs away. You know, what I did was to inform the police post. They will have to be seen somewhere”

“Look, Alcides, don’t be silly. I knew your brothers and none of them ever tried to pull my leg. We haven’t believed in broom flights for a long time here.”

So I returned, drawing the horse from the bridle, Custodio´s words still sounding in my ears. It was painful to see the horse limping from one leg and it was difficult for me to walk because any stupid ditch seems unconquerable. Everything is rougher, higher the pastures, further the horizon, everything looks duller…. grayer and the clouds seem to fall over your head. Animals know when you are beaten and perhaps this was the reason why a snake bit me just as I was reaching the last hill.

When I finally arrived it was dark and my leg really hurt. I took the cot outside, put it under the branch shelter but didn’t have the courage to cut where the marks of the bite were. The walls of the hut had become invisible, the shapes could be seen but my eyes went through where they should have stopped. There was something like moonlight in the exact shape of the hut. When I got used to the sight, my three brothers who seemed to have come from outside appeared. They had entered from the side where there was no door and were standing, talking as if preparing themselves for the chores of the day. I-who was lying all rolled on the cot and having no voice, wanted to run outside …. It was as though the bitten leg had turned into wood. I was cheered up by the idea of waiting until dawn and bringing a cart to take all my things somewhere surrounded by people and voices. When I felt for the knife to cut the bite I realized the walls had become invisible but a naked woman could be seen as high as the roof. She was sitting and moving her arms as a windmill, she had several stones, which she threw from one hand to the other. She stopped, rubbed the stones one against the other and fire came out from them. She threw them up and blew them to make them go higher. I saw the exact moment when they became thunders and lightnings. It began to rain so hard and so unexpectedly that I had no other choice than getting into the hut. My brothers embraced me and I started hearing their voices: They caressed my leg and said: “All is well…, you are with us, Alcides.”

Written by Leonardo Garet

Translated by Liliam Goncalves