Hello! So sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know the name of the Borges short story you mentioned on the post about small art?
hi, it does not bother me at all!
the story is called El Cautivo! I haven't found a translation, so i translated it !
the language is a little crude, product of its time, but i find the descriptions of the character's emotions to be unbelievable
This story is told in Junín or in Tapalqué. A boy dissapeared after a raid; it was said that the Indians stole him. His parents looked for him fruitlessly; years went by, and a soldier that came from faraway lands told them about an indian with blue eyes that could have been their son. They came across him (the circumstances were lost to the chronicles and I don't want to make up what I do not know) and they thought they recognized him. The man, after many years of desert and barbaric life, didn't know his native tongue anymore, but he let himself be led, careless and docile, to the house. There he stood, maybe because the others stood, too. He looked at the door, as if he didn't knew what to make of it. Suddenly his head fell down, he screamed, and he ran across the hallway and the two big patios and got into the kitchen. Without hesitating, he shoved his arm in the cooker hood, and grabbed the little knife with antler handle he had hid there, when he was a child. His eyes sparkled with happiness, and his parents cried because they had found their son.
Other memories followed this one, but the Indian could not live between these walls and walked on, to look for his desert. I would like to know what he felt in that moment of vertigo, on which the past and the present converged. I would like to know if the lost son was born again and died within that moment of ecstasy, or if he managed to remember the parents and the house, even just as a creature or a dog would.
