Sticking out of the book a strip of paper marks
abandoning idle thoughts, she reads.
Uninvited devastating emptiness intrudes.
She cannot give herself fully to anything.
Not even the book can distract her totally.
Once she thoufht that she had surrendered completely
and it felt as if she had been cheated.
Trough the curtain, she looks onto the street.
School of learning.
Lonely men lonely women hurry past.
Cities have lost the art of leisure.
In appears that everything is limited by ist own nature
which could develop only within an absurd cycle
of comings and goigs,
of time running,
of truth that are silhouettes only.
Even reading, which should be pleasurably slow, is simply
a storehouse of quotations and information.
Her emotion causes her to withdraw; in anotherpart of memory lives unfold slowly
Traducción: Alec 0´Sullivan
Autora: Concha García