La vida ye cara

Pepe, esi ye'l so nome. Pepe naz va munchos años, casi mas de setenta, nuna probe familia con munchos hermanos. Ye un clixé típicu y habitual de los de la so xeneración. De neñu empieza de guaje y el restu de la so vida trabayu y mas trabayu. Los sos pulmones alluguen mas asbesto y plombu qu'un vertideru industrial. Trabayó, la so muyer, Marisa, llimpiando cases, portales, tiendes...faía los llabores del llar, curiaba crios. Quierla. Lleven casaos casi cincuenta años. Una vida de sudu y esfuerzu. Al casase Pepe y Marisa merquen un pisu. Nada fachendosu nun barriu obreru. Nacen dos pequenos. Esi ye'l autentico orguyu del matrimoniu, los sos pequeños. ¿Qué nun fixeron polos sos pequeños?. Ye duru saca-yos alantre, da-yos una educación, una ilusión, unos estudios... aquello qu'ellos nun pudieron tener. Pepe entá lo piensa, y creyelo, lo meyor que yos dio, unos estudios pa llabrase un futuru. Repitilo incansablemente a tou aquel que-y escuche. Que nun se quemen les manos, nin alienden aquellos vapores venenosos, que al llegar a casa nun-yos forga la cabeza por alendar gases, nin que'l llombu fórga-yos como si daquién tratara d'arrinca-yos la columna vertebral.
Pepe xube toles mañanes a la Talaya, a dures penes, yá que-y forguen los güesos, y alienda mal. Mientres camina recuerda, piensa y medita. Dempués del paséu dirá ver a Marisa a la residencia, besala, adorarla, coyei de les manos y mirala. Caltien la so guapura afatada cola riqueza de les arrugues qu'amuesen la so vida y esperiencia. Con too y con eso quierla, anque nun lu recuerde. Ojala pudieren tar xuntos como siempres,... pero non. La so pensión nun da pa más.
Cuando llega a la Atalaya mira al horizonte repara en dirección a América, mira dempués a Europa. Nun les ve pero pepe cree que si. Cubica la so mirada y otea al cielu. Espera ver un avión que llegue a Ranón, un barcu qu'apuerte nel Musel. Daqué, un tresporte que repatrie a los sos pequeños. Dempués de tanto trabayu, tán solos. Pero non una soledá física, una soledá espiritual. Aquello a lo que mas amó foise, inmigraron buscando lo qu'equí yá nun hai, futuru. A Pepe ambúra-y l'alma, duel-y el corazón. Dacuando piensa que nunca mas va ver, que cualquier día muérrese y nun los vuelve ver. Eso acoráda-y, cadez-y. Al pensalo una pinchada percuerre la so alma. Espera a les próximes fiestes, les próximes vacaciones, pero nun sabe si va ser posible, ellos tamién tán jodios de perres. Ellí, como equí, la vida ye cara.


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Pepe, that's his name. Pepe was born many years ago, almost over seventy, in a poor family with many children. It is a typical and usual cliché of his generation. As a child begins to apprentice and the rest of his life work and more work. His lungs harboring asbestos and lead more to an industrial landfill. Worked, his wife, Marisa, cleaning houses, portals, shops ... did housework, caring children. The want. They've been married almost fifty years. A life of sweat and toil. By marrying Pepe and Marisa buy a flat. Nothing flashy in a working class neighborhood. Born two small. That is the real pride of marriage, their children. What they have done for their children?. It's hard to get them out later, give them an education, an illusion, some studies ... in that they may have had. Pepe still think, and I think, the best we have been given, studies to build a future. He repeats tirelessly to anyone who will listen. They are not burning hands or breathe poisonous fumes those who arrived home in unle head hurts breathing gases, or that back hurts like someone This means to rip the spine.
Pepe goes every morning to the Watchtower, just barely, since bones hurt, and bad breath. While walking remember, think and meditate. After the ride will go to see Marisa's residence, the kisses, the love, the holds hands and looks. Maintains its beauty adorned with wealth of wrinkles showing his life and experience. Despite all the want, but do not remember. I wish I could be together as always, ... but no. Your pension in a day for more.
When he reaches the Watchtower otea the horizon, toward repairing America, Europe looks after. Do not see but Pepe thinks so. Calibra otea his eyes and the sky. Expect to see a plane coming to Ranón, a ship arrives in Musel. Rather, a shuttle to repatriate their young. After much work, they are alone. But not physical solitude but a spiritual loneliness. That which most loved is gone, have immigrated here and looking for what's not, future. Pepe burns her soul, her heart hurts. Sometimes think that never again will see that any day you die and not see them again. This of inflammation, we adolece.Siente a prick walking his soul. Wait for the holidays, the upcoming holidays, but do not know if it's possible, they are also fucking money. There, as here, life is expensive.