El valle… Aquel valle significaba mucho para Daniel, el Mochuelo. Bien mirado, significaba todo para él. En el valle había nacido y, en once años, jamás franqueó la cadena de altas montañas que lo circuían. Ni experimentó la necesidad de hacerlo siquiera.

A veces, Daniel, el Mochuelo, pensaba que su padre, y el cura, y el maestro, tenían razón, que su valle era como una gran olla independiente, absolutamente aislada del exterior. Y, sin embargo, no era así; el valle tenía su cordón umbilical, un doble cordón umbilical, mejor dicho, que le vitalizaba al mismo tiempo que le maleaba: la vía férrea y la carretera.

[…] Era, el suyo, un pueblecito pequeño y retraído y vulgar. Las casas eran de piedra, con galerías abiertas y colgantes de madera, generalmente pintadas de azul. Esta tonalidad contrastaba, en primavera y verano, con el verde y rojo de los geranios que infestaban galerías y balcones.

[…] Visto así, a la ligera, el pueblo no se diferenciaba de tantos otros. Pero para Daniel, el Mochuelo, todo lo de su pueblo era muy distinto a lo de los demás.

 

El camino, 1950

Ilustración de Alberto Gamón sobre El camino de Miguel Delibes
Lapiceros de color sobre cartulina

 

 

MY VILLAGE

The valley! That valley meant so much to Daniel. To tell the truth it meant everything to him. There he had been born, and never once during his eleven years had he crossed the chain of high mountains which surrounded it. He had never even felt the need to do so.

Sometimes Daniel thought that his father, the priest and the schoolmaster were right, and that the valley was like a great isolated cauldron, completely shut off from outside. And yet this wasn’t completely true. The valley had an umbilical cord, or better, a double umbilical cord which both gave it vitality and did it harm: the railway and the road.

The village was small, isolated and commonplace. The houses were of stone, mostly painted blue, with open, overhanging, wooden galleries. This blue stood out in spring and summer, contrasting with the green and red of the geraniums which grew luxuriantly round the galleries and balconies.

Looked over quickly, like this, the village seemed no different from many others. But to Daniel, it was all quite different from any other village.

 

The Path, 1950

Illustrated by Alberto Gamón
Colored pencils on cardboard