Sand creatures. Dedicated to Germán García. 1st chapter. 1st part.

For those who speak and read english, my homemade translation of a part of the first chapter.

“Languages diverse, horrible dialects,

Accents of anger, words of agony,

And voices high and hoarse, with sounds of hands,

Made up a tumult that goes whirling on

For ever in that air for ever black,

Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes”.

                                                                                  Chant III, Inferno,

                                                                                   The Divine Comedy.

                                                                                    Dante Alighieri. 

 I-

ULMEN

Seed of slim futures,

Profane about longings.

Under the corroded rocks

By the sheer returning wind,

The hidden stalks mocks.

 SAQUI

The creature moved inceasingly. My body was choppy with its sudden restlessness.

Men were getting ready to leave the village before the first colds were spilled on the tents.

It was the ritual with which they anticipated winter. They filled their leather bags with dried meat, fruits and canteens with water, the essential to set off.  On the way, nature, pure as thick snow, would provide.

I touched my belly, while I looked at them from the shelter. The head was pushing my chest, as wanting to leak out of my mouth. Abscent, Nehuen was taking on with the horses. He had been many times into the ritual, but never before with me like this, with a son coming. No, never before like this…

Being a woman used to keep many things to myself, I wasn´t going to show my fears. Either was I going to share the unexpected sensations that invaded me; premonitory sometimes, dramatic others. No one would have believed that I could smell winds, hear soil´s silence, and read animals conducts. That morning I was restless too.

- Nehuén, don´t you leave the yuca buns that I made for you. They are your favourite ones - I remember I yelled at him.

From outside, he raised his hand for all answer. Quimey, the expedition´s leader, followed the scene from a distance; his sharp glance seemed to be on the alert…

Some horses would bring the loot, as others would carry the vicuna tents for night sleeping. The guanacos were big and heavy animals to bring them without help, through that tough and tricky ways.

They used to leave in a sunny morning that could presage good weather for several days on: it rained so little in our land…, but a flighty snow could complicate the job. The wind warned them: if it blew from the north, weather would be good. If it blew from the south, they could suffer the increasing white harshness that each year covered our soil. Then, they put off departure till conditions improved.

In spite of knowing each and every inch of that land;  what to do and when, nature was always the last to speak.

That day, Nehuen looked apathetic; our families lived in remote reservations. The birth could come early, or something unexpected could happen during the expedition that prevented him to return on time.

- I´ll be fine. But come back soon. Brisa will want to see you when she´s born- I told him when he came in to say goodbye.

- You´re so sure that it will be a girl…

- Doña María has told me, a long time ago. I´ve already told you.

- We even didn´t discuss about the name, in case Doña María was right.

- It´s no use in discussing it. I told you. Her name will be Brisa.

I laughed but my laughter sounded phony.