Monte Helicon

"Her name's Calliope."
Erasmus Fry, 6 de mayo de 1986
(Neil Gaiman, "The Sandman")

Se sentó en el borde del sillón, tomó el cuaderno todo ajado que solía acompañarlo en sus rondas y escribió, con esa letra tan prolija, tan particular de su puño, pero no sin prisa:


He was used to that woman,
Who would dress all in white—
A long gown made of cotton
Meant to counter the night

And she went to the woods
And she mused in the forest

Never spoke, never listened,
She would just pass him by—
Her silhouette, oh, so gentle,
An ephemeral cry

And she went to the woods
And she took to the forest

He recorded her longing
Like the fittest of scribes—
But his innermost craving
He did not dare transcribe

And she went to the woods
And she strayed in the forest
Then she never came back


Luego, tachó y reescribió. Paseó la habitación, ya en penumbras; soportó penosamente los trabajos del reloj, con la triste certeza de quien se sabe vencido. Arrancó las hojas con rabia incontables veces.

Al alba, se durmió, de cansancio, esperando a aquella musa vestida de blanco.