Ago 03 2009
This night, on having come, it was doing here, sat in the ditch of the way, I have seen your old weak dog, have understood that the hour came and I neither will complain, nor will beg, will not try to break the agreement, you have fulfilled your part and I feel satisfied. Although there have no been many years, yes that have been intense and like that I prefer it, before a long life full of frustrations.
On having come to “The Three Forks”, the ambience was dense, they all were quiet after I entered the place. I believe that it was already known about my night visits to Florette, the wife of Ralph Forks, the proprietor of the hovel, to which anger beams were already escaping from him in every look that was devoting itself and this one in the night has not taken eye from me. There is strange the sensation of knowing who your executioner will be. Es extraña la sensación de saber quien será tu verdugo.
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October 25 2008
I strolled around for the ways the rest of the day. I stopped under an oak to eat something that Colletta had prepared for me. After eating, finally I dared to pull out my guitar to verify if something had changed. I spent long moment with my fingers on the mast without being able to dare to touch. Me the hands were sweating and the heart me was beating quickly. A chord … nothing strange … perhaps everything was a mockery, it seemed so real … I lost the fear and started to touch, nothing special was going out either of my fingers or of my gullet. Once again they had made fun of me. It had turned into a custom, so I did not feel especially more idiotic than in other occasions. Después de comer, por fin me atreví a desenfundar mi guitarra para comprobar si algo había cambiado. Pasé largo rato con mis dedos sobre el mástil sin poder atreverme a tocar. Me sudaban las manos y el corazón me latía deprisa. Un acorde…nada extraño…quizás todo fue una burla, pareció tan real… Perdí el miedo y me arranqué a tocar, nada especial salía de mis dedos ni de mi garganta. Una vez más se habían burlado de mí. Se había convertido en una costumbre, así que no me sentí especialmente más idiota que en otras ocasiones.
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October 02 2008
I began to walk towards Clarksdale on the narrow way that was passing parallel to the creek. The newly released night was warm and loaded with moisture. This fact joined through what he had just lived, was doing that I was feeling tired and empty without knowing very well what to think or for what to wait. The sensation was how is life in the eye of a tornado: a calm and calm waiting which all my world was changing violently any minute now. Este hecho, sumado a lo que acababa de vivir, hacía que me sintiese cansado y vacío sin saber muy bien qué pensar o qué esperar. La sensación era como estar en el ojo de un tornado: una tranquila y apacible espera de que todo mi mundo cambiase violentamente de un momento a otro.
This way I strolled around a little bit, how so many other times, allowing me to go for the ways sometimes straight, sometimes serpenteantes, always dusty. He enjoyed covering them.
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September 25 2008
This is the night in which I will have to pay. I am seated in the dressing room to alone with my bottle of bourbon and my old woman Gibson, have cold although perspiration drops furrow my face, this must be the fear: drops of cold perspiration covering my face before the certainty of which this night I will pay with my soul … it is the just thing. gotas de sudor frío cubriendo mi cara ante la certeza de que esta noche pagaré con mi alma…es lo justo.
I have of hour and a half approximately and for what more it longs to me is to be alone and to remember who I was before Legba takes my soul forever. Only with my memories, with mom, with my childhood, with my wives, with the children that I never knew and they will walk on the dusty ways of the south, barefooted and hungry.
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