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domingo, 26 de julio de 2009

El diario jardín de los sueños



En dos semanas, dos noches he soñado lo mismo: que estaba en la sacristía de la catedral antes de una gran concelebración, y que yo buscaba un alba con la que revestirme. En los dos sueños, un coadjutor de la catedral buscaba en los armarios para ayudarme. En las dos noches el contenido del sueño acababa en la sacristía, en los preparativos.

Hoy he tenido dos sueños. En uno reñía a una persona que conozco en la vida real, por una mala acción que otra persona me ha hecho en la vida real. Mi riña era durísima y no exenta de palabras que yo jamás usaría estando despierto.

En el otro sueño, apostaba algo con un hombre grande, de unos cincuenta y tantos años, musulmán, muy tranquilo, sentado en un sillón en su casa. He mirado su librería para ver si había algo que me interesara, libro u objeto. Pero nada me interesaba. Entonces le he propuesto que apostáramos por algo que no fuera material, sino por alguna acción que nos mejorara. El musulmán se ha sentido contento con mi proposición. Allí ha acabado el sueño.

Curiosamente hoy me he levantado de la cama dormido. He estado en mi habitación un rato de pie, a oscuras, tratando de orientarme sin lograrlo. Sólo cuando mi pie ha tropezado con un determinado objeto en el suelo, he tenido una referencia que me ha permitido en el plazo de un minuto llegar a un interruptor de luz.

Santa Teresita del Niño Jesús se preguntaba por qué si pensaba todo el día en Dios, no soñaba nunca con Él. Lo mismo me pasa a mí. Es algo que siempre me ha intrigado. Ha habido noches en que me he dormido pidiéndoles a los ángeles soñar con ellos, me encantaría. Pero nada.

TRADUCCION

The daily garden of the sleep


In two weeks, two nights I have dreamed the same: that was in the vestry of the cathedral before a big concelebración, and that I was looking for a dawn with which to arm myself. In two sleep, a coadjutor of the cathedral was looking in the closets to help me. In two nights the content of the sleep was finishing in the vestry, in the arrangements.

Today I have had two sleep. In one it was scolding a person that I meet in the real life, for a bad action that another person has done to me in the real life. My tiff was durísima and it does not exempt of words that I would ever use being awake.

In another sleep, he was betting something with a big man, of approximately fifty and so many years, Muslim, very calm, seated in an armchair in his house. I have looked at his bookstore to see if there was something that I was interested in, free or object. But I was interested in nothing. Then I have proposed to him to bet for something that was not material, but for some action that was improving us. The Muslim has felt satisfied with my proposition. There it has finished the sleep.

Curiously today I have got up of the bed slept. I have been in my room a little bit standing, in the dark, trying to face me without achieving it. Only when my foot has stumbled over a certain object in the soil, I have had a reference that has allowed me in the course of a minute to come to a light switch.

Saint Teresita del Niño Jesus was wondering why if he was thinking the whole day about God, he was never dreaming of Him. The same happens to me. It is something that has always intrigued me. There have been nights in which I have fallen asleep asking the angels to dream of them, I would love. But not at all.

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