Para muestra un botón...

O saldar mi deuda con Houdini.
Aquí va un fragmento para hacer las delicias de un filólogo que no un traductor (cuántas veces habré dado gracias a aquel impulso rebelde de hacer una carrera que me gustara en lugar de una que sirviera para algo...).
Presento en sociedad mi mal de cap escollit: un breve fragmento de Amitav Ghosh y The Sea of Poppies.


‘Afeem ship,’ came the answer. ‘China-side, Yankee gen’l’um allo tim tok so-fashion. Also Mich’man like Malum Zikri.’

‘I ain no midshipman,’ Zachary corrected him. ‘Signed on as the ship’s carpenter.’

‘Nevva mind,’ said the serang, in an indulgent, paternal way.

‘Nevva mind: allo same-sem. Malum Zikri sun-sun become pukka gen’l’um. So tell no: catchi wife-o yet?’

‘No.’ Zachary laughed. ‘’N’how bout you? Serang Ali catchi wife?’

‘Serang Ali wife-o hab makee die,’ came the answer. ‘Go topside, to hebbin. By’mby, Serang Ali catchi nother piece wife . . .’

A week later, Serang Ali accosted Zachary again: ‘Malum Zikri!

Captin-bugger blongi poo-shoo-foo. He hab got plenty sick! Need one piece dokto. No can chow-chow tiffin. Allo tim do chheechhee, pee-pee. Plenty smelly in Captin cabin.’

Zachary took himself off to the Captain’s stateroom and was told that there was nothing wrong: just a touch of the back-door trots – not the flux, for there was no sign of blood, no spotting in the mustard. ‘I know how to take care o’ meself: not the first time I’ve had a run of the squitters and collywobbles.’

Resisto la tentación de hacer subrayados, me remito al título de este post. Así paso los días (entre otras muchas cosas imprescindibles para afrontar este reto con presencia de ánimo).