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English to Spanish: Selected Works of O'Henry General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English The Gift of the Magi
ONE DOLLAR AND EIGHTY-SEVEN CENTS. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheek burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing left to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it cer- tainly had that word on the look-out for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name 'Mr. James Dillingham Young.'
The 'Dillingham' had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, the letters of 'Dillingham' looked blurred, as though they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called 'Jim' and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a grey cat walking a grey fence in a grey backyard. To-morrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Some- thing fine and rare and sterling - something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honour of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Per- haps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its colour within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the Queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shin- ing like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out of the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: 'Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds.' One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, pant- ing.
Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the 'Sofronie.' 'Will you buy my hair?' asked Della.
'I buy hair,' said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it.'
Down rippled the brown cascade.
'Twenty dollars,' said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
'Give it to me quick,' said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
Translation - Spanish El regalo de los Reyes Magos
UN DÓLAR Y OCHENTA Y SIETE CENTAVOS. Eso fue todo. Y sesenta centavos estaban en monedas centavos. Los centavos salvaron uno y dos a la vez arrasando a la tienda de groceria y comestibles y al hombre vegetal y al carnicero hasta que la mejilla se quemó con la imputación silenciosa de parsimonia que implicaba un trato tan cercano. Tres veces Della lo contó. Un dólar y ochenta y siete centavos. Y al día siguiente sería Navidad.
Claramente no quedaba nada que hacer más que caer en el pequeño y en mal estado sofá y aullar. Así que Della lo hizo. Lo que instiga la reflexión moral de que la vida está hecha de sollozos, resfriados y sonrisas, predominando los resfriados.
Mientras la amante del hogar está disminuyendo gradualmente de la primera etapa a la segunda, eche un vistazo a la casa. Un apartamento amueblado a $8 por semana. No fue exactamente la descripción del mendigo, pero sin duda tenía esa palabra en la búsqueda del equipo de mendicidad.
En el vestíbulo de abajo había un buzón en el que no entraría ninguna letra, y un botón eléctrico desde el que ningún dedo mortal podía convencer a un sonido. También perteneceba a ella una tarjeta con el nombre de "Sr. James Dillingham Young."
El "Dillingham" había sido lanzado a la brisa durante un período anterior de prosperidad, cuando a su poseedor se le pagaba 30 dólares por semana. Ahora, cuando los ingresos se redujeron a 20 dólares, las letras de "Dillingham" parecían borrosas, como si estuvieran pensando seriamente en contratar a una D modesta y humilde. Pero cada vez que el Sr. James Dillingham Young llegaba a casa y llegaba a su piso de arriba, se le llamaba "Jim" y lo abrazaba mucho la Sra. James Dillingham Young, que ya se le presentó como Della. Lo cual está muy bien.
Della terminó su llanto y se atendió de sus mejillas con el trapo de polvo. Se paró junto a la ventana y miró con dudo a un gato gris caminando por una valla gris en un jardín gris. Mañana sería el día de Navidad, y solo tenía 1.87 dólares para comprarle un regalo a Jim. Ella había estado ahorrando cada centavo que podía para meses, con este resultado. Veinte dólares a la semana no dan para mucho. Los gastos habían sido mayores de lo que había calculado. Siempre lo son. Sólo $1.87 para comprar un regalo para Jim. Su Jim. Había pasado muchas horas felices planeando algo agradable para él. Algo fino, raro y excelente, algo que está un poco cerca de ser digno del honor de ser propiedad de Jim.
Había un espejo entre las ventanas de la habitación. Quizás hayas visto un espejo en un apartamento de ocho dólares. Una persona muy delgada y muy ágil puede, observando su reflejo en una rápida secuencia de franjas longitudinales, obtener una idea bastante precisa de su aspecto. Della, como era delgada, dominaba el arte.
De repente se apartó de la ventana y se paró ante el cristal. Sus ojos brillaban intensamente, pero su rostro había perdido su color en veinte segundos. Rápidamente se bajó el cabello y lo dejó caer en toda su longitud. Ahora bien, había dos posesiones de los James Dillingham Youngs de las que ambos se enorgullecían enormemente. Uno era el reloj de oro de Jim que había pertenecido a su padre y a su abuelo. El otro era el cabello de Della. Si la reina de Saba hubiera vivido en el apartamento situado al otro lado del conducto de ventilación, algún día Della habría dejado que su pelo colgara por la ventana para secarse, sólo para depreciar las joyas y los regalos de Su Majestad. Si el rey Salomón hubiera sido el conserje, con todos sus tesoros amontonados en el sótano, Jim habría sacado su reloj cada vez que pasaba, sólo para verlo arrancarse la barba de envidia.
Así que ahora el hermoso cabello de Della caía a su alrededor, ondulándose y brillando como una cascada de aguas marrones. Llegaba hasta debajo de su rodilla y se convertía casi en una prenda para ella. Y luego lo volvió a hacer con nerviosismo y rapidez. Una vez vaciló por un minuto y se quedó quieta mientras una o dos lágrimas salpicaban la gastada alfombra roja.
Se puso su vieja chaqueta marrón; Continuó su viejo sombrero marrón. Con un torbellino de faldas y con el brillo aún en sus ojos, salió volando por la puerta y bajó las escaleras hasta el calle.
Donde se detuvo, el cartel decía: “Mme. Sofronie. Artículos para el cabello de todo tipo.” Un piso más arriba, Della corrió y se recompuso, jadeando. Madame, grande, demasiado blanca, fría, no parecía la “Sofronie.” “¿Comprarás mi cabello?” preguntó Della.
"Yo compro pelo," dijo la señora. "Quítate el sombrero y echemos un vistazo a su aspecto."
La cascada marrón se onduló hacia abajo.
“Veinte dólares,” dijo Madame, levantando la masa con mano experta.
“Dámelo rápido,” dijo Della.
Ah, y las siguientes dos horas transcurrieron con alas color de rosa. Olvídese de la metáfora fragmentada. Estaba saqueando las tiendas en busca del regalo de Jim.
I have been an ESL and Spanish teacher and professor for the past 25 years and am a diligent, detail oriented editor of both languages. My focus is upon precision and clarity of communication.
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