# The Seven Madmen, The Revelation Los siete locos · Roberto Arlt · Part Two Source: https://1732studios.com/books/arlt/la-revelacion. Data: https://1732studios.com/books/arlt/la-revelacion.json. Audio: https://audio.1732studios.com/arlt/.m4a. Ínterin ocurrían estos sucesos, en el Hospicio de las Mercedes. While these events were taking place, over at the Las Mercedes Asylum. > «Ínterin» — meanwhile: «Ínterin» is a slightly literary adverb meaning 'meanwhile, in the interim'. Here Arlt cuts away from the main plot: 'while all this was going on, over at the asylum…'. The clause is deliberately left hanging, its sentence finished only by the next two. Ergueta entraba en lo que él más tarde llamaría «el conocimiento de Dios». Ergueta was entering into what he would later call "the knowledge of God". > Conditional as 'future-in-the-past': «llamaría» is the conditional of «llamar». After a past-tense frame it works as a 'future seen from the past': 'what he would (later) call'. It looks ahead from the moment of the story to something still to come. Así fue. This is how it happened. Despertó al amanecer en la sala. He woke at daybreak in the ward. > Preterite for a single moment: «Despertó» is the preterite of «despertar» ('to wake'). The preterite frames a single, completed action that opens the scene — 'he woke' — as opposed to the imperfect, which would set an ongoing background state. Un paralelepípedo de luna ponía un rectángulo azul en el encalado del muro frente a su cama. A parallelepiped of moonlight laid a blue rectangle on the whitewash of the wall facing his bed. > Imperfect for the scene: «ponía» (imperfect of «poner») describes a continuous, unfinished state filling the scene — the moonlight was 'laying' a rectangle of blue on the wall. The imperfect paints the backdrop; the preterite «Despertó» named the one action that began it. A través de los barrotes de la ventana abierta se veía al cielo encuadrado por el contramarco, un cielo poroso y seco de azul como yeso teñido de metileno. Through the bars of the open window the sky could be seen framed by the casing, a sky porous and dry with blue like plaster dyed with methylene. > Impersonal / passive «se»: «se veía el cielo» uses «se» to leave the seer unnamed: 'the sky could be seen' / 'one saw the sky'. Spanish often prefers this «se» construction where English reaches for a passive, keeping the focus on the thing seen rather than on who sees it. En el retículo de los hierros temblaban los hilos de agua de una estrella. In the lattice of the iron bars trembled the watery threads of a star. > Verb before subject: The verb «temblaban» ('trembled') comes before its subject «los hilos de agua» ('the watery threads'). After a fronted place-phrase Spanish routinely postpones the subject — literally 'In the lattice trembled the threads'. Ergueta se rascó concienzudamente la nariz, aunque no sentía mayor preocupación. Ergueta scratched his nose conscientiously, though he felt no great concern. > Reflexive with body parts: With body parts Spanish uses a reflexive pronoun plus the definite article: «se rascó la nariz» = 'he scratched his nose' (literally 'he scratched himself the nose'). The «se» supplies the possessor, so «la» replaces English 'his'. Comprendía que se encontraba en la casa de los locos, pero ése «era un asunto que no le concernía». He understood that he was in the madhouse, but that "was a matter that did not concern him". > «concernir» with indirect object: «concernir» ('to concern') takes an indirect-object pronoun for the person involved: «no le concernía» = 'it did not concern him'. The «le» marks 'to him', so the thing that concerns or doesn't is the grammatical subject. Le preocupaba si hubieran encalabozado su espíritu, pero el que en realidad estaba encarcelado en el manicomio era su cuerpo, su cuerpo que pesaba noventa kilos, y que ahora con cierto resquemor inexplicable recordaba que había rodado por los lupanares. It worried him whether they had jailed his spirit, but the thing actually imprisoned in the asylum was his body, his body that weighed ninety kilos, and that now, with a certain inexplicable resentment, recalled having rolled through the brothels. > Pluperfect subjunctive after «si»: «hubieran encalabozado» is the pluperfect (past perfect) subjunctive. After «si» expressing an uncertain, worried supposition — 'whether they had jailed' — the subjunctive marks the possibility as unverified, something he can only wonder about. > «lupanares» — brothels: «lupanar» is a formal, almost Latinate word for a brothel. Arlt mixes this elevated register with the gutter life it names, a clash that runs through the whole chapter as the gambler Ergueta examines his sins. Y sin poder evitarlo revisaba como un espectáculo oprobioso la vida sensual con que se había regodeado. And, unable to help it, he kept reviewing, like some shameful spectacle, the sensual life he had wallowed in. > Pronominal «regodearse»: «regodearse» is a pronominal verb meaning 'to revel in, to wallow in (with relish)'. The pluperfect «se había regodeado» sets a delight that was already over — the pleasure he had taken before, now looked back on with disgust. Mas, ¿qué tenía que ver su espíritu con tal carnaza furiosa? But what did his spirit have to do with such furious carnal bait? > «Mas» without an accent: «Mas» (no accent) is a literary conjunction meaning 'but' — distinct from «más» ('more'), which carries the accent. Arlt uses it to open a rhetorical question and lift the register a notch. Era ésa una realidad tan evidente para su entendimiento, que lo asombró de que los médicos no repararan aún en tal diferencia. That was a reality so evident to his understanding that it amazed him the doctors had still not noticed such a difference. > Subjunctive after «que» of emotion: «repararan» is the imperfect subjunctive. Because the main clause expresses astonishment — «lo asombró... que» ('it amazed him that') — the dependent verb goes subjunctive. «reparar en» also means 'to notice, take note of'. Ergueta se sintió maravillado de su descubrimiento. Ergueta felt marveled by his discovery. El ya no era un hombre, sino un espíritu, «sensación pura de alma», con riberas nítidamente recortadas dentro de la carnicera armazón de su físico, como las nubes en los espacios infinitos. He was no longer a man, but a spirit, "pure sensation of soul", with banks sharply cut out within the butcher's framework of his body, like the clouds in infinite space. > «no... sino» — not X but Y: «no era un hombre, sino un espíritu» = 'he was not a man, but a spirit'. After a negation, «sino» (not «pero») introduces the corrected alternative — Spanish keeps a separate word for 'but rather' when replacing what was just denied. Estaba ligeramente alegre. He was faintly cheerful. Ya noches anteriores tuvo la certeza de que podía apartarse de su cuerpo, dejarlo abandonado como a un traje. On earlier nights already he had the certainty that he could step out of his body, leave it discarded like a suit. > Pronominal «apartarse»: «apartarse de» is a pronominal verb meaning 'to move away from, to separate oneself from'. The «se» turns the action back on the subject — he could 'remove himself' from his own body, the chapter's central image. Al descubrirla, esta súbita seguridad le proporcionó un miedo liviano. On discovering it, this sudden certainty gave him a light fear. > «Al» + infinitive: «Al» plus an infinitive means 'on / upon (doing something)': «al descubrirla» = 'on discovering it'. The attached pronoun «-la» ('it') points back to «esta súbita seguridad», the certainty he has just uncovered. Hasta en determinados momentos tuvo en la epidermis la sensación que sólo se tocaba con los bordes de su alma, de forma que el equilibrio de su cuerpo próximo a caer, y el de su piel, le causaba náuseas. At certain moments he even had on his skin the sensation that he touched only with the edges of his soul, so that the balance of his body, on the verge of falling, and that of his skin, made him nauseous. > «de forma que» — so that: «de forma que» is a connector meaning 'so that, in such a way that', introducing a result. It links the strange sensation to its consequence — the dizziness and nausea that follow from it. Era como si descendiera a suma velocidad en un ascensor. It was as if he were dropping at top speed in an elevator. > «como si» + past subjunctive: «como si» ('as if') takes a past subjunctive — either the imperfect («descendiera», 'as if he were descending') or the pluperfect («hubiera descendido», 'as if he had descended'), depending on the time frame. Here the imperfect frames an unreal comparison simultaneous with the main verb. Además tenía miedo de tener voluntad de abandonar su cuerpo, pues si se lo destruían, ¿cómo podría entrar en él? Besides, he was afraid of having the will to abandon his body, for if they destroyed it on him, how could he get back into it? > «se» of involvement (dative of harm): In «si se lo destruían», the «se» stands for 'on him / to his detriment' and «lo» is 'it' (the body): 'if they destroyed it on him'. This ethical dative adds the affected person to a verb that wouldn't otherwise need one. El enfermero tenía cara de bellaco, y aunque él le hubiera hablado de unas redoblonas para la próxima «reunión», no se sentía del todo seguro. The orderly had the face of a scoundrel, and although he had spoken to him about some parlay bets for the next "meeting", he did not feel entirely safe. > «redoblonas» — lunfardo for parlay bets: «redoblona» is a turf-and-gambling term from Buenos Aires «lunfardo»: a parlay or accumulator bet, where winnings ride forward onto the next race. Ergueta is a compulsive gambler, and the racetrack slang leaks even into his vision of God. Mas pasada esta primera impresión se complacía en creer que era un niño débil, lo cual no le impedía reírse desde su cama de la comedia con que trataba de tranquilizar sus noventa kilos, descontando que él podía ir a donde quisiera... pero no... no era cuestión de jugar. But once this first impression had passed, he took pleasure in believing he was a weak child, which did not stop him laughing from his bed at the comedy with which he tried to soothe his ninety kilos, taking for granted that he could go wherever he wanted... but no... it was no time to gamble. > Subjunctive in an open relative: «quisiera» is the imperfect subjunctive after «a donde» ('wherever'). When the place is indefinite — anywhere at all, not a specific spot — Spanish uses the subjunctive: «a donde quisiera» = 'wherever he might want'. Su bondad no podía admitir eso. His goodness could not allow that. ¡Y qué hermoso era sentirse así colmado de caridad! And how beautiful it was to feel oneself so filled with charity! > Exclamatory «qué» + adjective: «¡qué hermoso era...!» = 'how beautiful it was...!'. Exclamatory «qué» before an adjective or noun forms emphatic exclamations; note the accent on «qué», which distinguishes it from the unstressed relative «que». Su misericordia se ensanchaba sobre el mundo, como una nube sobre los techos de la ciudad. His mercy spread out over the world, like a cloud over the rooftops of the city. Su cuerpo quedaba cada vez más abajo. His body was being left further and further below. > «cada vez más» — more and more: «cada vez más» means 'more and more, increasingly' (literally 'each time more'). With «abajo» it gives 'further and further below', tracking how Ergueta feels his body sink away beneath his rising spirit. Ahora lo veía como en el fondo de un cajón, el sanatorio entre los blancos cubos de las casas era otro cubo, las calles azuleaban entre sábanas de sombra, las luces verdes de los semáforos del F.C.S. lucieron débilmente, y el espacio entró en él como el océano en una esponja, mientras el tiempo dejaba de existir. Now he saw it as if at the bottom of a drawer; the sanatorium, among the white cubes of the houses, was another cube; the streets turned blue between sheets of shadow; the green lights of the Southern Railway's signals shone faintly, and space entered into him as the ocean enters a sponge, while time ceased to exist. > Imperfect vs. preterite together: Within one sentence Arlt mixes imperfect «azuleaban» ('were turning blue' — an ongoing state) with preterite «lucieron» ('shone' — a single completed flash) and preterite «entró» ('entered'). The imperfect holds the scene open while the preterites mark the events that punctuate it. Caían las alturas a través de su delicia. The heights came falling through his delight. Ergueta sentía quietud, estancamiento de bondad para sí mismo, por la voluntad de una fuerza exterior. Ergueta felt stillness, a stagnation of goodness toward himself, by the will of an outside force. Así gozaría el estanque seco con la lluvia que le envía el cielo. Just so would the dry pond delight in the rain that the sky sends it. > Conditional for a hypothetical comparison: «gozaría» is the conditional of «gozar» ('to enjoy, delight in'). Here it frames an imagined parallel — 'this is how the dry pond would delight in the rain' — comparing Ergueta's quiet bliss to a hypothetical scene. De la tierra hacia la cual se volvía su caridad, veía los redondeados bordes verdosos lamidos por el éter azul. Of the earth toward which his charity turned, he saw the rounded greenish edges licked by the blue ether. > «la cual» after a preposition: «hacia la cual» = 'toward which'. After a preposition, formal Spanish prefers «el cual / la cual / los cuales» over plain «que»; it agrees in gender and number with «la tierra», keeping the long relative clause clear. Y como no era natural permanecer silencioso, sólo atinaba a decir: And since it was not natural to stay silent, all he managed to say was: > «atinar a» + infinitive: «atinar a» plus an infinitive means 'to manage to, to be able to get out (doing something)' — often when one is overwhelmed. «sólo atinaba a decir» = 'all he could manage to say', in the imperfect for the lingering effort. –Gracias... gracias, mi Señor. –Thank you... thank you, my Lord. No experimentaba curiosidad alguna. He felt no curiosity at all. > Postposed «alguno» = emphatic 'none': After a noun in a negative sentence, «alguno/alguna» reverses sense and intensifies the negation: «no... curiosidad alguna» = 'no curiosity whatsoever'. It is stronger and more literary than the plain «ninguna curiosidad». Su humildad se fortalecía en el acatamiento. His humility grew stronger in submission. En la tersura celeste atisbó de pronto el escalonamiento de un roquedal. In the smooth sky-blue he suddenly glimpsed the terracing of a rocky crag. Una luz de oro bañaba el pedrerío a pesar de la noche, y lo azul en la distancia caía en profundos barrancos de lomas doradas. A golden light bathed the stones despite the night, and the blue in the distance fell away into deep ravines of gilded hills. > «lo» + adjective = abstract noun: «lo azul» means 'the blue (part / quality)', 'the blueness'. Neuter «lo» before an adjective makes an abstract noun out of it — a favorite of Arlt's here, where colors become things in their own right. Ergueta con su cuerpo restituido avanzó a pasos prudentes, tiesa la pupila fiera en su perfil de gavilán. Ergueta, his body restored to him, advanced with cautious steps, the fierce pupil rigid in his hawk-like profile. > Adjective-first absolute phrase: «tiesa la pupila fiera» fronts the adjective «tiesa» ('rigid') before its noun «la pupila»: 'the fierce pupil (held) rigid'. This terse absolute construction, with no verb, describes his bearing as he moves — a vivid, almost cinematic close-up. Naturalmente, no se sentía tranquilo porque su cuerpo había pecado innumerables veces, y porque comprendía que su rostro, a pesar de la actual expresión grave, tenía las rayas enérgicas y la fiereza de los malevos, que cuando él era mocito imitaba en el arrabal y con las patotas. Naturally, he did not feel at ease, because his body had sinned countless times, and because he understood that his face, despite its present grave expression, had the forceful lines and the fierceness of the toughs whom, as a young lad, he used to imitate in the outskirts and with the street gangs. > «malevos» and «patotas» — Buenos Aires toughs: Both are «lunfardo». A «malevo» is a knife-carrying tough or hoodlum of the old arrabal (the city's edge); a «patota» is a roving gang of young rowdies. Ergueta admits he once aped their swagger as a «mocito» ('young lad'). Pero su espíritu estaba contrito y quizá eso fuera suficiente, lo que no le impedía decirse: But his spirit was contrite, and perhaps that was enough, which did not stop him saying to himself: > Subjunctive after «quizá»: «quizá» ('perhaps') often takes the subjunctive to mark genuine uncertainty: «quizá eso fuera suficiente» = 'perhaps that was/might be enough'. The imperfect subjunctive «fuera» keeps the judgment tentative, just a hope. –¿Qué dirá el Señor de mi «pinta»? –What will the Lord say about my "look"? > «pinta» — one's look, appearance: «pinta» is colloquial for someone's appearance or 'look' — how one comes across. Ergueta worries about his «pinta» the way a tough would: whether he cuts a respectable figure before God, scuffed shoes and all. ¿Cómo puedo presentarme ante él? How can I present myself before him? –Y al mirarse maquinalmente los botines comprobó que estaban deslustrados, lo que acrecentó su confusión–. –And on mechanically looking at his boots he found they were dull and unpolished, which heightened his confusion–. > Reflexive «mirarse» with body/possessions: «al mirarse... los botines» uses the reflexive «se» with the article «los» to mean 'on looking at his (own) boots'. As with body parts, the reflexive supplies the possessor, so «los» does the work of English 'his'. ¿Qué dirá el Señor de mi «pinta» y de esta cara de burrero y de cafishio? What will the Lord say about my "look" and this face of a horseplayer and a pimp? > «burrero» and «cafishio» — lunfardo insults: More «lunfardo»: a «burrero» is a habitual racetrack gambler (from «burros», slang for racehorses), and a «cafishio» (also «cafisho») is a pimp who lives off a prostitute. Ergueta names his own face with these gutter words. Me preguntará de mis pecados... se acordará de todas las macanas que hice... ¿y yo qué le voy a contestar?... que no sabía, pero ¿cómo le voy a decir eso, si él dejó testimonio de ser en todos sus profetas? He'll ask me about my sins... he'll remember all the blunders I made... and what am I going to answer him?... that I didn't know — but how am I going to tell him that, if he left testimony of his being in all his prophets? > «macanas» — blunders, foolish things: «macana» is widespread River Plate slang for a blunder, a stupid mistake, or nonsense; «hacer macanas» is 'to mess up, do dumb things'. Ergueta's confession of his sins keeps slipping into this everyday porteño register. > «ir a» + infinitive = near future: «voy a contestar» ('I'm going to answer') and «voy a decir» use «ir a» plus an infinitive to express the near or intended future — the everyday spoken equivalent of the simple future, here driving his anxious inner monologue. Nuevamente volvió a examinar sus botines, sucios y descalabrados. Once again he looked over his boots, dirty and battered. > «volver a» + infinitive = to do again: «volver a» plus an infinitive means 'to do (something) again': «volvió a examinar» = 'he examined again'. It is the standard Spanish way to say 're-' or 'once more', here doubled by «Nuevamente» for emphasis. –Y me dirá: «Hasta estás hecho un turro... un vago vergonzoso y eso que fuiste a la universidad... –And he'll say to me: "You've even turned into a bum... a shameful idler, and that despite your having gone to the university... > «turro» — a no-good, a lowlife: «turro» is «lunfardo» for a worthless, contemptible person — a bum or scoundrel. «estar hecho un turro» = 'to have become a complete lowlife'. Ergueta imagines God scolding him in his own slang. Te jugaste a los «burros» lo que pudo ser consuelo del huérfano y de la vida... y enfangaste en orgías el alma inmortal que yo te di, y arrastrastes a tu ángel guardián por los lupanares y él lloraba tras tuyo, mientras tu bocaza carnicera se llenaba de abominaciones...» Y lo peor es que yo no se lo voy a poder negar... You gambled away on the "nags" what could have been the comfort of the orphan and of life... and you mired in orgies the immortal soul I gave you, and you dragged your guardian angel through the brothels while he wept behind you, as your butcher's big mouth filled itself with abominations..." And the worst of it is that I'm not going to be able to deny it to him... > «burros» — the racehorses: «los burros» (literally 'the donkeys') is River Plate slang for racehorses, and «jugarse a los burros» is 'to bet on the horses'. The gambling that ruined Ergueta surfaces even in God's imagined rebuke. > «arrastrastes» — a nonstandard preterite: «arrastrastes» is the colloquial 'tú' preterite with an extra «-s» (standard would be «arrastraste», 'you dragged'). This very common spoken error is reproduced on purpose to keep even God speaking in Ergueta's own untutored voice. ¿Cómo le voy a negar el pecado? How am I going to deny the sin to him? ¡Qué macana, Dios mío! What a mess, my God! El cielo era sobre su cabeza una cúpula de yeso azul. The sky over his head was a dome of blue plaster. Giraban en las elípticas remotos planetas como naranjas, y Ergueta miró humildemente el pedregal dorado. Remote planets like oranges turned in their elliptical orbits, and Ergueta gazed humbly at the golden stony ground. > Subject after the verb: «Giraban... remotos planetas» = 'remote planets were turning', with the verb «Giraban» ahead of its subject. Spanish freely puts the subject last, especially in vivid description; the imperfect «Giraban» keeps the planets in continuous motion. De pronto una gran turbación desazonó su modestia. Suddenly a great disturbance unsettled his modesty. > «De pronto» — suddenly: «de pronto» is a fixed adverbial phrase meaning 'suddenly, all at once'. It marks the turn in the scene — the calm vision is about to break as Ergueta lifts his eyes and sees a figure. Levantó la cabeza y a su izquierda, detenido a diez pasos, vio al Hijo del Hombre. He raised his head and, to his left, stopped ten paces off, he saw the Son of Man. > Personal «a» before a person: «vio al Hijo del Hombre» = 'he saw the Son of Man', with the 'personal a' («a» + «el» = «al») marking a human direct object. Spanish inserts this «a» before a definite person, where English uses nothing. El Nazareno, cubierto de una túnica celeste, volvía a él su perfil demacrado donde lucía el almendrado ojo sereno. The Nazarene, covered in a sky-blue tunic, turned toward him his gaunt profile, where the serene almond-shaped eye shone. Ergueta sufrió un gran desconsuelo, no podía arrodillarse, «porque un bacán conserva siempre la línea» y no se arrodilla frente a un carpintero judío, pero sintió que un sollozo le retorcía el alma y en silencio extendió los brazos unidos por los dedos hacia el dios silencioso. Ergueta suffered a great desolation; he could not kneel, "because a bacán always keeps his composure" and does not kneel before a Jewish carpenter, but he felt a sob wring his soul, and in silence he stretched out his arms, joined at the fingers, toward the silent god. > «bacán» — a man of style and means: «bacán» is classic tango/«lunfardo»: a well-off, well-dressed man who lives the good life and keeps up appearances. Ergueta's grotesque pride — refusing to kneel before Christ because a «bacán» must 'keep the line' (stay cool) — is pure porteño swagger. > Indirect object + article for the soul: «le retorcía el alma» = 'wrung his soul', literally 'wrung him the soul'. The indirect-object «le» names the person affected and the article «el» replaces the possessive — the same possessor-by-pronoun pattern Spanish uses with body parts. Sentía que toda su caradura se impregnaba de devoción hacia él. He felt his whole brazen face soaking with devotion toward him. > «caradura» — brazen cheek: «caradura» (literally 'hard face') means shamelessness, nerve, brazen cheek — and by extension the cheeky person himself. Here it stands for Ergueta's own insolent face, now improbably flooding with devotion. Así callado lo miraba a Jesús detenido en el roquedal. Thus, silent, he watched Jesus, halted upon the crag. > Redundant object pronoun: «lo miraba a Jesús» doubles the object: the pronoun «lo» and the full phrase «a Jesús» both name the same thing ('he watched him, Jesus'). This redundant or 'clitic-doubled' object is normal in River Plate Spanish and adds emphasis. Los ojos de Ergueta se llenaron de lágrimas. Ergueta's eyes filled with tears. > Pronominal «llenarse de»: «llenarse de» is the pronominal form of «llenar», meaning 'to fill up with'. The «se» makes it intransitive — the eyes fill of themselves: «se llenaron de lágrimas» = 'filled with tears'. Lamentábase de que no hubiese allí alguien con quien golpearse para demostrarle al Señor cuánto lo quería, y ya el silencio le pareció tan insoportable que venciendo el terrible anonadamiento, humildemente suplicó: He lamented that there was no one there to come to blows with, to show the Lord how much he loved him, and by now the silence struck him as so unbearable that, overcoming the terrible annihilation, he humbly begged: > Enclitic pronoun on the verb: «Lamentábase» is «se lamentaba» ('he lamented') with the pronoun attached to the end of the verb. This enclitic placement is a literary, somewhat old-fashioned style; today «se lamentaba» is the everyday word order. > Subjunctive after a negative emotion: «hubiese» is the imperfect subjunctive of «haber». After «Lamentábase de que» ('he lamented that'), the verb goes subjunctive because the main clause expresses feeling — 'he was sorry that there was no one there'. –Yo quisiera ser diferente, pero no puedo. –I would like to be different, but I can't. > «quisiera» — a polite, softened wish: «quisiera» is the imperfect subjunctive of «querer», used on its own to soften a wish into 'I would like'. It is gentler and more wistful than «quiero» ('I want') — the right register for Ergueta's humbled plea. Jesús lo miraba. Jesus watched him. –Créame... me da no sé qué decirle que lo quiero mucho. –Believe me... it gives me a strange feeling to tell you that I love you very much. > «dar no sé qué» — an indescribable feeling: «me da no sé qué» is a colloquial idiom — literally 'it gives me I-don't-know-what' — meaning it stirs an awkward, hard-to-name feeling (embarrassment, unease). Ergueta can't quite say how strange it feels to confess his love. Ergueta le volvió la espalda, caminó tres pasos, luego, volviéndose, se detuvo. Ergueta turned his back on him, walked three paces, then, turning around, stopped. > «volver la espalda a alguien»: «volver la espalda a alguien» means 'to turn one's back on someone'. The indirect-object «le» names the person ('on him'), and «la espalda» takes the article rather than a possessive — the usual Spanish pattern for body parts. –He cometido todos los pecados y muchas maca... disparates... quisiera arrepentirme y no puedo... quisiera arrodillarme... cierto, besarle los pies a usted, que fue crucificado por nosotros... –I've committed every sin and many blun... follies... I'd like to repent and I can't... I'd like to kneel... yes, to kiss your feet, you who were crucified for us... > Present perfect for life's tally: «He cometido todos los pecados» = 'I have committed every sin'. The present perfect («haber» + past participle) sums up experience reaching into the present — the running total of a life, fitting for a confession. > He swallows «macanas»: Ergueta starts to say «macanas» (slang 'blunders') but checks himself mid-word and corrects to the more decorous «disparates» ('follies'). Even at this exalted moment he is policing his own gutter vocabulary before the Lord. ¡Ah! si usted supiera todas las cosas que quise decirle y se me escapan... y lo quiero sin embargo. Ah! if you only knew all the things I meant to tell you and that slip away from me... and I love you all the same. > «si» + imperfect subjunctive wish: «si usted supiera» = 'if you (only) knew'. «si» with the imperfect subjunctive «supiera» frames an unreal or wished-for condition — half a sentence whose unspoken other half is 'how much I'd want to tell you'. > «se me escapan» — accidental «se»: «se me escapan» = 'they escape on me / slip away from me'. The «se» + «me» pair frames the loss as accidental and beyond his control: the words get away from him rather than his losing them on purpose. ¿Será porque estamos de hombre a hombre? Could it be because we're here man to man? > Future of conjecture: «¿Será porque...?» uses the future tense not for the future but to guess about the present: 'could it be / I wonder if it's because...'. This 'future of probability' lets Spanish muse aloud about a likely reason. Jesús lo miraba. Jesus watched him. Una sonrisa nueva agració el rostro de Jesús. A new smile graced the face of Jesus. Ergueta calló un instante, luego ruborizado murmuró tímidamente: Ergueta fell silent a moment, then, blushing, murmured timidly: > «callar» — to fall silent: «callar» means 'to go quiet, fall silent'; the preterite «calló» marks the single moment he stops speaking. Beware the look-alike «cayó» ('he fell', from «caer») — different verb, different spelling, no double «l». –¡Oh! qué bueno que es usted –exclamó enajenado Ergueta–. –Oh! how good you are –Ergueta exclaimed, beside himself–. ¡Qué bueno! How good! Usted se ha dignado sonreírme a mí, pecador... ¿Se da cuenta usted? You have deigned to smile at me, a sinner... Do you realize? > «darse cuenta» — to realize: «darse cuenta (de)» is the everyday verb for 'to realize, to notice'. «¿Se da cuenta usted?» = 'Do you realize?'. Don't confuse it with «dar cuenta de» ('to account for'); the reflexive «se» is what makes it 'to become aware'. Ha sonreído. You have smiled. A su lado, créame, me siento un muchacho, un «purrete». At your side, believe me, I feel like a boy, a "purrete". > «purrete» — a kid: «purrete» is affectionate River Plate slang for a small child or 'kid'. Beside Jesus, the hulking gambler feels reduced to a little boy — and reaches, as always, for the porteño word. Quisiera adorarlo toda la vida, ser su guardaespalda. I'd like to adore you all my life, to be your bodyguard. Ahora no pecaré más, toda la vida voy a pensar en usted, y pobre del que dude de usted... le rompo el alma... Jesús lo miraba. Now I'll sin no more, all my life I'm going to think of you, and woe to anyone who doubts you... I'll beat the hell out of him... Jesus watched him. > Subjunctive in «el que dude»: «pobre del que dude de usted» = 'woe to whoever doubts you'. «el que» followed by the subjunctive «dude» refers to no specific person — anyone at all who might doubt — so the verb is subjunctive, as with all indefinite relatives. Entonces Ergueta, queriendo ofrecer lo mejor de sí mismo, dijo: Then Ergueta, wanting to offer the best of himself, said: > «lo mejor» — the best part: «lo mejor de sí mismo» = 'the best of himself', 'his best part'. Neuter «lo» + a superlative forms an abstract noun ('the best thing'), and «sí mismo» is the stressed reflexive 'himself' used after a preposition. –Yo me arrodillo ante usted. –I kneel before you. > Pronominal «arrodillarse»: «arrodillarse» ('to kneel') is the standard pronominal form — it carries the reflexive pronoun. «me arrodillo» = 'I kneel (myself) down'. While the plain «arrodillar» does exist as a rare transitive ('to cause someone to kneel'), the self-directed pronominal «arrodillarse» is the everyday verb. –Avanzó unos pasos y llegando frente a Jesús inclinó la cabeza, apoyó una rodilla en el pedregal dorado, iba a prosternarse cuando Jesús avanzó su mano taladrada, la apoyó en su hombro, y dijo: –He stepped forward a few paces and, coming before Jesus, bowed his head, set one knee on the golden stones, and was about to prostrate himself when Jesus put forward his pierced hand, laid it on his shoulder, and said: > «iba a» + infinitive — about to: «iba a prosternarse» = 'he was about to prostrate himself'. The imperfect of «ir a» plus an infinitive describes an action on the point of happening in the past — set up here precisely so that «cuando» ('when') can interrupt it. –Vente. –Come. > Affirmative command + attached pronoun: «Vente» is the affirmative «tú» command of «venirse» ('come along'), with the pronoun «-te» fastened to the end. In positive commands the pronoun always attaches to the verb; the pronominal «venirse» adds a nuance of 'come on over, come with me'. Sígueme siempre y no peques más, porque tu alma es hermoso como la de los ángeles que alaban al Señor. Follow me always and sin no more, for your soul is beautiful like that of the angels who praise the Lord. > Positive vs. negative commands: «Sígueme» (positive command, pronoun attached) contrasts with «no peques» (negative command). In the affirmative the pronoun joins the verb; in the negative the verb takes the subjunctive form «peques» and any pronoun would go in front. «alma» is grammatically feminine, so the standard form would be «hermosa» — Arlt leaves the agreement as «hermoso». Quiso hablar, pero ya el vacío y el silencio lo rodeaban vertiginosamente. He tried to speak, but already the void and the silence were whirling dizzily around him. > «querer» in the preterite = tried: In the preterite, «querer» often shades from 'wanted' to 'tried (and failed)': «Quiso hablar» = 'he tried to speak'. The preterite marks the single attempt, against the imperfect «rodeaban» that holds the surrounding vertigo open. Ergueta comprendió que había entrado en el conocimiento de Dios. Ergueta understood that he had entered into the knowledge of God. Ello era bien claro, porque al volverse a una voces que sonaban en la sala oscura, un loco mudo de nacimiento exclamó, mirándolo con extrañeza: This was quite clear, because, on turning toward some voices that were sounding in the dark ward, a madman mute from birth exclaimed, looking at him with bewilderment: > «Al» + reflexive infinitive: «al volverse a...» = 'on turning (himself) toward...'. «Al» + infinitive marks the moment, and «volverse» is pronominal — to turn oneself around. (The source reads «una voces»; standard agreement would be «unas voces».) –Parece que venís del cielo. –It seems you've come from heaven. > «vos» form «venís»: «venís» is the «voseo» present of «venir» for «vos», the River Plate 'you'. Where Spain uses «tú vienes», Buenos Aires uses «vos venís» — the everyday second person the madmen speak in. Ergueta lo miró asombrado. Ergueta looked at him, amazed. –Sí, porque, como los santos, tenés una rueda de luz en la cabeza. –Yes, because, like the saints, you have a wheel of light around your head. > «vos» form «tenés»: «tenés» is the «voseo» present of «tener» ('you have'), against Spain's «tú tienes». The «vos» forms stress the last syllable and drop the diphthong — «tenés», «venís», «hacés» — the hallmark of porteño speech. Ergueta, suavemente atemorizado, se apoyó en el muro. Ergueta, gently frightened, leaned against the wall. Un loco tuerto, que hasta entonces permanecía callado, exclamó: A one-eyed madman, who until then had stayed silent, exclaimed: > «tuerto» — one-eyed: «tuerto» means 'one-eyed', a person blind in or missing one eye. This «loco tuerto» becomes a recurring figure in the scene, the one who later claims his sight is restored on the blind side. –Milagros... vos haces milagros. –Miracles... you work miracles. Al mundo le devolviste el habla. To the world you gave back speech. > «devolver» with indirect object: «devolver algo a alguien» is 'to give something back to someone'. «le devolviste el habla» = 'you gave speech back to it (the world)'; the «le» marks the recipient and «devolviste» is the «vos» preterite. (Here «el mundo» stands oddly for «el mudo», the mute man.) La conversación despertó a un tercer poseído, que se pasaba los días matando imaginarios piojos entre sus callosos dedos desgastados, y el barbudo, volviendo su cara pálida, dijo: The talk woke a third possessed man, who spent his days killing imaginary lice between his calloused worn fingers, and the bearded one, turning his pale face, said: > «pasarse + time + gerund»: «se pasaba los días matando...» = 'he spent his days killing...'. The pronominal «pasarse» plus a stretch of time and a gerund describes how someone spends that time; the imperfect «pasaba» makes it a steady habit. –Vos viniste a resucitar a los muertos... –You came to raise the dead... –Y a darle la vista a los ciegos –interrumpió el mundo. –And to give sight to the blind –the mute man broke in. > «el mundo» for «el mudo»: Throughout the scene the source prints «el mundo» ('the world') where context plainly means «el mudo» ('the mute man') — the madman who has just regained speech. We keep the original word but translate the sense. –Y también a los tuertos –aseguró el loco a quien faltaba un ojo–, porque ahora veo de este lado. –And the one-eyed too –assured the madman who was missing an eye–, because now I can see on this side. > «faltar» with indirect object: «faltar» works like 'to be lacking to someone': «el loco a quien faltaba un ojo» = 'the madman to whom an eye was lacking', i.e. who was missing an eye. The missing thing is the subject; the person appears as an (indirect) object. El mudo, sosteniendo su busto con los dos brazos apoyados en el colchón, continuó: The mute man, propping up his torso with both arms braced on the mattress, went on: –Pero vos no sos vos, sino Dios que está en tu cuerpo. –But you aren't you, but God who is in your body. > «vos sos» — the voseo of «ser»: «sos» is the «vos» present of «ser» ('you are'), where Spain says «tú eres». «vos no sos vos» = 'you aren't you'. The doubling of «vos» (subject pronoun, then predicate) makes the riddle: the man is not himself but God. Ergueta, anonadado, aseveró: Ergueta, dumbfounded, affirmed: –Es cierto, hermanos... no soy yo... sino Dios que está en mí... ¿Cómo podría yo, miserable burdelero, hacer milagros? –It's true, brothers... it's not I... but God who is in me... How could I, a wretched whoremonger, work miracles? > Conditional «podría» for a rhetorical question: «¿Cómo podría yo... hacer milagros?» = 'How could I work miracles?'. The conditional «podría» softens 'can' into a hypothetical 'could', perfect for the self-deprecating rhetorical question — he means he couldn't. –¿Por qué no haces otro milagro? –Why don't you do another miracle? –Yo no vine a eso, sino a predicar el verbo del Dios Vivo. –I didn't come for that, but to preach the word of the Living God. > «no... sino» again: «no vine a eso, sino a predicar» = 'I didn't come for that, but to preach'. After the negation, «sino» introduces the true purpose; both halves use «a» + infinitive of purpose ('came (in order) to...'). El matador de piojos recogió un pie sobre su rodilla y malévolamente insistió: The lice-killer drew one foot up onto his knee and insisted maliciously: –Debías hacer un milagro. –You ought to do a miracle. > «deber» for obligation: «deber» + infinitive expresses obligation: «debías hacer un milagro» = 'you ought to / should do a miracle'. The imperfect «debías» softens it into gentle pressure, an expectation laid on him rather than a flat command. El mudo colocó su almohada en el piso de la sala y sentándose encima de ella, dijo: The mute man set his pillow on the floor of the ward and, sitting down on top of it, said: –Yo no hablo más. –I'm not talking anymore. Ergueta se apretó las sienes, aturdido de lo que veía. Ergueta pressed his temples, dazed by what he was seeing. > Reflexive + article for body parts: «se apretó las sienes» = 'he pressed his temples', literally 'he pressed himself the temples'. The reflexive «se» supplies the possessor and «las» replaces 'his' — the standard body-part construction once more. Meditó amablemente el tuerto: The one-eyed man mused amiably: –Sí, vos debías resucitar ese muerto. –Yes, you ought to raise that dead man. –¡Si no hay ningún muerto aquí! –But there's no dead man here! > Exclamatory «si» — 'but': Sentence-initial «si» in an exclamation does not mean 'if'; it protests or objects: «¡Si no hay ningún muerto aquí!» = 'But there's no dead man here!'. It pushes back against what was just said. El tuerto avanzó cojeando hasta Ergueta, lo tomó de un brazo y casi arrastrándolo lo llevó hasta una cama frontera, donde yacía inmóvil un hombrecito de cabeza redonda y nariz enorme. The one-eyed man came limping up to Ergueta, took him by one arm, and, almost dragging him, led him to a bed across the way, where a little man with a round head and an enormous nose lay motionless. > «tomar de» a body part: «lo tomó de un brazo» = 'he took him by one arm'. With «tomar», «agarrar», etc., the preposition «de» introduces the part you grab someone by; the person is the direct object «lo», the limb follows with «de». El mundo se acercó apretando los labios. The mute man drew near, pressing his lips together. –¿No ves que está muerto? –Don't you see he's dead? > «estar» + muerto: Death takes «estar», not «ser»: «está muerto» = 'he is dead'. Though it feels permanent, «estar muerto» describes a resulting state ('is in the condition of being dead'), which is why Spanish uses «estar» here. –Se murió esta tarde –rezongó el tuerto. –He died this afternoon –grumbled the one-eyed man. > Pronominal «morirse»: «morirse» is the pronominal form of «morir». The added «se» often colors the death as something that simply, sadly happened: «se murió esta tarde» = 'he died this afternoon'. The plain «murió» is more neutral and formal. –Les digo que ese hombre no está muerto –exclamó irritado Ergueta, convencido de que los otros lo burlaban; pero el matador de piojos saltó de su lecho, se acercó a la otra cama, inclinóse sobre el hombrecito de cabeza redonda y de tal forma empujó el cuerpo inmóvil que éste, al caer, resonó opacamente en el piso de la sala, quedando entre las dos camas con las piernas hacia arriba, semejante a la horqueta de un árbol recién podado. –I tell you that man is not dead –exclaimed Ergueta, irritated, convinced the others were mocking him; but the lice-killer leapt from his cot, went over to the other bed, bent over the little man with the round head, and shoved the motionless body so hard that it, on falling, thudded dully on the floor of the ward, coming to rest between the two beds with its legs in the air, like the fork of a freshly pruned tree. > «de tal forma... que» — so... that: «de tal forma empujó... que...» = 'he shoved in such a way / so hard that...'. The «de tal forma... que» frame introduces a result clause: the manner of the action and the consequence it produces. > Enclitic «se» on the preterite: «inclinóse» is «se inclinó» ('he bent over') with the pronoun fastened to the end of the verb — the same literary enclitic style as «Lamentábase» earlier. Note the written accent that the longer form requires. –¿Viste que está muerto? –See that he's dead? > «¿Viste?» — the porteño tag: «¿Viste?» is the «vos» preterite of «ver», used constantly in Buenos Aires as a tag meaning 'see?', 'you saw?', 'right?'. «¿Viste que está muerto?» = 'See that he's dead?' — seeking agreement. Los cuatro locos permanecían consternados en torno de la horqueta, recuadrados por el celeste rectángulo de luna, con los camisones inflados por el viento. The four madmen remained dismayed around the fork-shaped corpse, framed by the sky-blue rectangle of moonlight, their nightshirts billowed by the wind. > «en torno de» — around: «en torno de» (also «en torno a») means 'around, surrounding'. «en torno de la horqueta» = 'around the fork-shaped body'. The «horqueta» (forked branch) echoes the dead man's upturned legs from the previous paragraph. –¿Viste que está muerto? –repitió el barbudo. –See that he's dead? –repeated the bearded one. –Hacé un milagro –suplicó el tuerto–. –Do a miracle –begged the one-eyed man–. > «vos» command «hacé»: «Hacé» is the affirmative «vos» command of «hacer» ('do!'). The «voseo» imperative simply drops the «-r» of the infinitive and stresses the final syllable: «hacer» → «hacé», «mirar» → «mirá». Spain would say «haz». ¿Cómo vamos a creer en El si vos no haces un milagro? How are we to believe in Him if you don't do a miracle? ¿Qué te cuesta hacerlo? What does it cost you to do it? > «costar» with indirect object: «costar» takes an indirect-object pronoun for the person: «¿qué te cuesta hacerlo?» = 'what does it cost you to do it?', i.e. 'would it be so hard for you?'. A common idiom for coaxing someone into a small effort. El mudo, inclinando repentinamente la cabeza, le hacía señales de aquiescencia a Ergueta. The mute man, suddenly tilting his head, was making signs of assent to Ergueta. Gravemente se inclinó sobre el cadáver, iba a pronunciar las palabras de Vida, mas súbitamente los muros de la sala giraron los planos del cubo ante sus ojos, un viento oscuro aulló en sus orejas y otra vez tuvo tiempo de ver los tres locos recuadrados por el celeste rectángulo de luna, con los camisones inflados por el viento, mientras que él resbalaba por una tangente que cortaba el girante torbellino de tinieblas, en la inconsciencia. Gravely he bent over the corpse, was about to pronounce the words of Life, but suddenly the walls of the ward spun the planes of the cube before his eyes, a dark wind howled in his ears, and once again he had time to see the three madmen framed by the sky-blue rectangle of moonlight, their nightshirts billowed by the wind, while he slid down a tangent that cut across the spinning whirlwind of darkness, into unconsciousness. > «tener tiempo de» + infinitive: «tuvo tiempo de ver» = 'he had time to see'. «tener tiempo de (or para)» + infinitive means 'to have time to do (something)'. The preterite «tuvo» frames it as a single, fleeting window before he blacks out. > «mientras que» + imperfect: «mientras que él resbalaba» = 'while he was sliding'. «mientras (que)» with the imperfect frames a background action unfolding at the same time — here the slow slide into the vortex, set against the sudden events of the scene. --- Source text: public domain (Roberto Arlt, d. 1942). English translation: © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC — original draft, pending editorial review. NOTE: this is a minimal seed excerpt to make the app target runnable; full verified content is authored through the content pipeline.