Online: Wouldn’t You Believe It?

Trinity Journal of Literary Translation | 61

Online: Wouldn’t You Believe It?

trans. Andrés Alfaro

In the north of Costa Rica, nearing Nicaragua, there is a town called La Fortuna. To get there you take roads wending left and right, roads trailing up and down mountains. You graze the clouds and shiver from the cold. Sometimes the waterfalls tremble; other times the width of a river will with its clear, bubbling waters; occasionally, the depths of a riverbed quiver, barely visible from the tippy-top of a narrow bridge lined by rows of crosses that memorialize traffic deaths.

Whenever you go downhill you’re bound to cross a bridge over a river. Whenever you go up you’ll inevitably happen upon some cloud clinging to the mountain. It may even stretch out and take the form of fog making for several kilometers of squinty vision.

More than just a town, La Fortuna is an urban center that caters to many farms both big and small. These farms have workers who begin at the crack of dawn. They take care of the livestock, the sowing of plantains and yucca, the viper that turned up (how awful!), poor old don Albino (who died from how awful he looked), and the story to be told at the start of each evening.

The most famous storyteller in La Fortuna is don Fulminante. That’s the reason for his nickname: The Fulminant Fibber.

He lives on a ranch exposed to the winds and to the sheets of rain that fall year round. These rains start very early, before lunch, and often last all day.

He has two milk cows, three ordinary dogs he’s trained to hunt, a small cornfield surrounded by coconut trees and a hammock where he takes his siesta and daydreams the night away. Many animals happily pass by his ranch including butterflies, lizards, cicadas and, at times, even the occasional toad. Never snakes, however, as don Fulminante has an amulet around his neck to protect him from any poisonous creatures.

He is a lively, affectionate, neighborly man who is capable of always doing right. He is a sharp observer and a skillful orator. He knows how to tell a story with the dexterity of a trained bullfighter who courts the bull and skirts it as if it were never there. He’s simply good at everything. He’s able to fix a leaky pipe, build a house, repair a machine, cure a hangover, relieve indigestion and even deliver a baby should the emergency arise. He can turn his hand to just about anything. He’s been an electrician, mechanic, bricklayer, and has even crafted beautiful, comfortable, and durable furniture as he knows how to choose quality wood resistant to moths and other such pests.

He became famous as a miracle-worker when someone brought an old, broken-down

y lo dejó botado cerca de un arroyo. Empezó a visitarlo como por casualidad y en un dos por tres lo dejó como nuevo. Entonces lo estacionó en la Alcadía y le puso un rótulo : « lo puede utilizar quien lo necesite ». Y se ha usado en mucha obra buena y de necesidad, porque ése era el mandato de don Fulminante.

Cada noche, sea lunes o domingo, todos los días sin faltar uno, se acercan a su rancho los vecinos y algunos que van de paso y que conocen su fama de buen cuentista. Don Fulminante los saluda alegremente y les pregunta por el trabajo, por la salud, por lo que se dice por allá y por aquí. Como buen estratega deja que se llene el público para soltar su cuentazo y sabe que lo van a repetir en una y otra parte. Sabe desde siempre que con cuentos se mata el silencio y se alimenta un pueblo que trabaja, siente y sueña. ¿A que no me van a creer?, empieza siempre diciendo. Pues me fui a La Fortuna para comprarme unas alka-seltzer y yo me las voy encontrando cada vez más caras. Entonces se me ocurrió alquilar aquel lomito que ven ahí, tan lindo, esbelto y fértil, y lo fui sembrando con un gran amor, que para sembrar se necesita amar la tierra, cantarle y abrazarse a ella. Cada pastilla a medio metro de distancia, en forma de círculo porque el lomito se prestaba para ello y porque la tierra rinde mejor con la belleza. Hay que ver como agradecen las flores y los cantos de los pájaros. Hice la siembra en abril y esperaba la cosecha de alka-seltzercitas en julio. Pero no andaba con la mejor suerte. El tiempo me traicionó como traiciona a todos los campesinos. En mayo empezó el cielo a nublarse y se vino <un torrencial de lluvias, la colina se puso blanca y empezó a bajar en una nube blanca que corrió por todos los campos y carreteras. Era realmente inpresionante, con decirles que llegó hasta Ciudad Quesada, más de cuarenta kilómetros de aquí. Todavía la gente se acuerda en la ciudad de ese hecho fantástico porque fue la primera y ‘única vez que nevó por toda esta zona.

Después de una sonrisa plagada de malicia alegre, empieza de nuevo. ¿ A que no me van a creer ? Un día se me ocurrió ir a pescar y me fui a la ribera del río La Fortuna. Apenas me asomé a las aguas vi un montón de pececitos lindos y de colores que jugueteaban nadando de un lado para otro, como unos niños que se despiertan a la vida. Me enamoré de uno de ellos, el de los ojos más grandes. Con mucho cuidado y costo lo logré meter en un tarro. Con más esfuerzo y empeño me puse a enseñarle a respirar fuera del agua, boca a boca lo llenaba de aire, lo ponía en tierra unos minutos y luego de nuevo al agua. Repetí la operación más de cien veces y al fin el bandido aprendió a respirar por sí solo. Me lo traje al rancho y le enseñé a convivir con las gallinas, que al principio lo trataron como a un extraño y después se convencieron de que era un pobre gallo desnudo. También le enseñé a comer maiz y plátano, así como a escarbar gusanos. Iba todo muy bien y el pececito parecía muy feliz. Ya llevaba un año conmigo cuando

tractor to town and abandoned it next to a creek. Don Fulminante began to visit the tractor as if by accident and, in no time at all, he had it fixed up good as new. He then parked it in front of the town hall and placed a sign on it reading: “free to use for those in need.” And, indeed, it has been used for many projects of vital importance because that was how don Fulminante wanted it.

Each evening, be it Monday or Sunday – every day without fault – the neighbors, and even some travelers who have heard of the legendary storyteller, come to don Fulminante’s ranch. He always greets them cheerfully and inquires about their jobs, their health, about news both near and far. As a master strategist, he waits until the audience has filled in before launching into his story, knowing it will be passed along in one place or another. He’s always known that stories eradicate silence and nourish a people that work, feel and dream.

He always begins by saying, “Wouldn’t you believe it? Well, I ventured down to La Fortuna to pick up some alka-seltzer and it seems to get pricier every time I go. So, I had the bright idea of renting that plot of land you see over there, so beautiful, fertile, and well-proportioned and went about seeding it with love. In order to plant one must love the earth, sing to her and hug her while sowing your seeds. I planted each alka-seltzer at half-meter intervals, forming a circle because the land is suited to such a task and the earth is more bountiful with beauty. You simply have to see how grateful the flowers are and how the birds sing their songs. I planted in April and waited until July to harvest the little alka-seltzers. But fortune was not to be on my side. Time betrayed me as it betrays all campesinos. In May the sky began to get cloudy and torrential rains swept in, turning the hill completely white, sending a frothy cloud spilling down over all the fields and roadways. It was truly remarkable and I must add that the torrent reached all the way to Ciudad Quesada, more than forty kilometers away. The people of the town still remember this bizarre event well as it was the first and only time it snowed in the area.”

After flashing a smile ridden with mischievous joy, he starts up again. “Wouldn’t you believe it? One day I decided to go fishing and headed down to the banks of the La Fortuna River. Hardly had I reached the riverbank before I noticed a large shoal of cute, colorful little fish playing around, swimming back and forth, like kids opening their eyes to life. I fell in love with one of these fish, the one with the biggest eyes. It was not easy but, in time, I managed to catch it and place it in a container. After much struggle and determination I undertook the long process of teaching it to breathe out of water. I would pluck him from the water, give him mouth to mouth, then keep him on land a few minutes before returning him to the water. I repeated this procedure more than 100 times and, after all was said and done, the little rascal was able to breathe air all by himself. I brought

ocurrió lo triste bien triste. Estábamos en octubre y empezó a llover torrencialmente desde muy temprano, no paró en todo el día, a la mañana siguiente fue peor. Tanto así que aquella zanja seca que ven ahí se tornó en un río de aguas revueltas. El pececito cayó en el remolino, lo vi desesperado y a pesar que me metí no pude salvarlo. Al pobre se le había olvidado que era pez y ya tampoco se acordaba de como nadar.

En el pueblo uno a otro se dicen con frecuencia que las hoches con don Fulminante se hacen más cortas y sonrientes.

Desde muy temprano el cuentista está ya en pie haciendo miles de oficios. ¿ De dónde sacará tiempo para hacer sus historias ?, se pregunta la gente. A lo mejor con ese poder de inventiva que tiene, inventa el tiempo para elaborar sus cuentos. ¿A que no me van a creer? Sucedió un día muy claro, clarísimo, el sol caía brillante y directo para hacer todo transparente. No sé si se han fijado pero hay días en que el sol se dedica a desnudar, entonces se ven los nervios de las hojas, la savia que baja y sube por las ramas, las semillas de las frutas. Pues decidí que la claridad invitaba a la cacería y convidé a mis perros a que me acompañaran. Yo hablo mucho con ellos, son mis compañeros y amigos, la única familia que tengo. Se pusieron felices e impacientes, ya saltaban en dos patas, ya bailaban, ya ladraban. ¡ Cómo les gusta correr tras la caza ! Entonces busqué la escopeta y la fui a cargar, ¡ qué mala suerte !, sólo tenía un cartucho y pensé que con uno solo tal vez por milagro podría cazar un conejo de monte. Pero, qué equivocado estaba. Me puse al camino y en el cruce de una vereda me encuentro con una pava hermosísima. Afiné la puntería y paf le di en el mero corazón, pero la pava se fue rodando por la ladera y yo, ni lerdo ni perezoso me eché a correr con mis perros. En las vueltas la pava dejó estripados tres conejos que fui recogiendo y al final ya cerca del río la pava tiró a las aguas a un venado, el que cayó desnucado. Regresé con la pava y los tres conejos para ya con las manos libres sacar al venado. Muy contento me puse de nuevo al camino, ahora también acompañado por aquel carretillo que ven ahí. No quería que me saliera ima hernia al subir con el peso de aquel animal. Pues llego al río y qué sorpresa. De verdad, les va a costar creerme.

Hizo una pausa don Fulminante para observar con su mirada maliciosa los rostros de los oyentes. Estaban todos atentos y casi con miedo de que las aguas se hubieran llevado al venado

Pues... saco al venado con cuidado. Bien que pesaba el animal y ya en tierra me encuentro que en cada cuerno se habían insertado cuatro pescados. Invité por ocho días completos a mis vecinos a almorzar y comer. Por eso ellos recuerdan muy bien aquel día de suerte en que con un único cartucho cacé una pava, tres conejos, un venado y ocho

him to my ranch and taught him to live side by side with the chickens. At first, they treated him like an outsider. But, after some time, they became convinced he was one of their own, just a poor, naked chicken. I also taught him to eat corn and plantains as well as to peck about for worms. Everything was going well and the fish seemed quite happy. He had been with me for a year when the saddest of sad stories took place. It was October and it began to rain torrentially very early in the morning and didn’t let up the entire day. The next morning was worse yet. So much so that the dry ditch you see over there turned into a river of rushing water. The little fish fell into a whirlpool and desperately floundered about. I rushed after him but was unable to save him despite my efforts. The poor thing had forgotten he was a fish. He had forgotten how to swim.”

The townspeople constantly talk amongst each other of how don Fulminante makes the nights go by more quickly and cheerfully.

By early morning the storyteller is already on his feet and performing thousands of tasks. Everybody wonders: where does he find the time to make up his stories? Perhaps with such prowess for invention he manages to invent time in order to work them out.

“Wouldn’t you believe it? This took place on a clear day, one of the clearest, and the sun shone down brilliantly, turning everything translucent. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this before but there are days the sun devotes itself to stripping everything naked. These are the days you can see the veins in the leaves, the sap that rises and falls through the branches, the seeds in the fruits. I decided that, given such clarity, conditions for hunting were favorable. I called my dogs over for the hunt. I converse with them often. They are my companions and friends, the only family I have. They became happy and impatient, jumping about on their hind legs, dancing and barking. How they love to run and hunt! I looked for my shotgun and went to load it but, unhappily, I had but one shell left. I reckoned that maybe by some miracle I might be able to hit a wild rabbit. How wrong I was. I began walking along the path and when I came to a fork in the trail I caught sight of an extremely lovely turkey. I steadied my sight, aimed, and wham, hit her right in the heart. But the turkey began to tumble down the mountainside. Being neither clumsy nor lazy I ran after it with my dogs. As it rolled down, the turkey flattened three rabbits which I went about collecting. At the bottom, next to the river, the turkey struck a deer, knocking it into the water and breaking its neck from the fall. I decided to bring the turkey and rabbits home so I could return for the deer unburdened. Feeling pleased, I again headed down the path, taking with me that wheelbarrow you see over there. I didn’t want to get a hernia trying to lift such a heavy animal. So, when I reached the river there was a surprise waiting for me. You really might have a hard time believing me here.”

peces.

Nadie sabía la edad de don Fulminante. Aparentaba la de un hombre viejo pero fuerte, lleno de vida. También daba la impresión de haber estado en muchas partes, algo en su rostro y en sus manos evocaba un infinito camino que parecía andar eternamente. En sus ojos achinados, rodeados de muchas arrugas, se asomaban a veces otras vidas, otros tiempos. Eran la clave que une la distancia y el alejamiento.

Tampoco se le conocía a don Fulminante ni familia ni amores. Nunca mencionaba cosas de su pasado, salvo sus asombrosas aventuras. Con todos era respetuoso y afecto. La gente lo sentía su pariente, un ser muy cercano, una especie de amigo del alma. No era para menos pues encabeza sin duda el patrimonio cultural de aquel pueblo y a él lo siguen los jinetes, los arrieros, los comerciantes, los tractoristas y todos los demás que en algún punto de la noche o de madrugada inventan su propio cuento. ¿ A que no me van a creer ? Una tarde cuando me empecé a familiarizar con la malaria, tal vez por el peso de la calentura me recosté en la hamaca envuelto en un paño. No sé en qué momento se subió una rana verde con ojos saltones. Se quedó mirando con un gran temor que la hizo encogerse, lista para dar el brinco. La vi con enorme ternura y ella se fue destensando, hasta se atrevió a pestañear. El amor, cuando se sabe expresar, es el elemento más vinculante posible. Fui bajando mi mano lentamente y ella brincó a su encuentro. Empecé a acariciarla con devoción y la rana respondió extendiéndose por completo. ¡ Qué lindo gesto !, pensé, ¿ cómo corresponderle ? Por primera vez me di cuenta, a pesar de haber visto tantas ranas en vida, de que era el animal más desnudo del mundo. Nada tenía que la tapara, ni pelos, ni rabo, ni una piel dura. Allá estaba ella sin algo que la vistiera de rana, absoluta y púdicamente desnuda. Se me ocurrió entonces que yo también debía desnudarme para igualarme, no debía haber distancia entre nosotros. Pensado y hecho, me quedé como Dios me trajo al mundo, aunque más viejo y más crecido de todo. Se me arrimó como si comprendiera mi gesto y empezó a « ranear » con un sonido hondo y agradable. Un coro le respondió de varias partes. La comunicación era perfecta. En eso, ¡ qué impresión !, la hamaca se llenó de ranas y la primera que llegó me estaba acariciando la mejilla. Ya no podía moverme pues no quería echar a ninguna, entonces otra vez la primera me abrió, casi a la fuerza, la boca y dio un brinco adentro. Tuve que tragármela porque me estaba ahogando y cuando pasó más adentro sentí que la garganta se me destrozaba. Desde entonces algo de rana me habita adentro y muchas ranas me siguen a todas partes con gran confianza y sin miedo alguno. Miren qué cerca están, por aquí, por allá, hasta en el techo. Y también desde entonces siempre me desnudo para dormir, me gustan los insectos y ya en el suelo brinco como ellas, también canto como ellas. Cuando conté esto por primera vez, alguien al verme

Don Fulminante paused to observe the faces of his audience through mischievous eyes. Each person was enthralled, almost afraid the water might have carried the deer away.

“So…I carefully hauled the deer out of the water. It was no easy task. Once out, I noticed each of its horns had impaled four fish. For eight straight days I invited my neighbors to lunch with me. That’s why they still reminisce about that fateful day when, with only one shot, I managed to bring home one turkey, three rabbits, a deer and eight fish.”

Nobody knew how old don Fulminante was. He had the looks of a strong, old man, brimming with life. He also gave the impression of having traveled a great deal. There was something in his face and hands that evoked an infinite path, one that stretched on forever. In his slanted eyes surrounded by wrinkles you could sometimes see other lives and ages shine through. They were the key to uniting distance and estrangement.

Nor was don Fulminante known to have any family or lovers. He never mentioned his past aside from his amazing adventures. He was a respectful and affectionate person to all he encountered. The townspeople thought of him like a relative, a close friend with a kindred soul. He was nothing less than that and there was no doubt he commanded the cultural heritage of the town. Everybody including horsemen, muleteers, merchants, and farmers followed his lead. At some point in the night or early mornings, they would also create their own stories.

“Wouldn’t you believe it? One afternoon I began to get acquainted with malaria. Perhaps it was due to the oppressive heat but I decided to lie down in my hammock, wrapped in a towel. I don’t recall exactly when but a little green frog with bulging eyes came up to me. It stood there looking at me fearfully, cowering and ready to jump away. I gazed at her warmly and she began to relax, eventually daring to blink. Love, when one knows how to show it, is the most binding force in the world. I started to reach my hand down slowly and she hopped up on it. I began to pet her tenderly and the frog responded by stretching her whole body out. I thought: what a beautiful gesture! But, how was I to reciprocate? For the first time, despite having seen many frogs in my life, I realized the frog had to be the most naked animal in the world. It had nothing to cover itself with, not even hair or a tail or tough skin. She was there with nothing on, absolutely and bashfully exposed. It then occurred to me that I, too, should be naked if we were to be equals. I wanted no differences between us. My thoughts soon became a reality and I was as God brought me into the world, only older and more grown. She approached me as if she understood and began to ribbit out a deep, pleasing sound. A chorus responded from the

con tantas ranas que me seguían, me llamó el señor de las ranas. A mí no me disgustó el título, al fin y al cabo era el único título que me gané en eso que llaman la universidad de la vida.

Después, cuando iban de regreso a sus casas, un vecino comentó a otro que el señor de las ranas parecía ignorar que muchos lo apodaban con inmenso cariño y admiración Fulminante mentira. Y es que la mentira cuando es una exageración obvia en cualquier parte se recibe como una fruta fresca en un día caliente. Produce alegría y ese admitir qué cuento bueno nos contó don Fulminante. Y lo repetían sin la gracia de los detalles y de los ademanes de aquel viejo querido. Decían, por ejemplo, ese don Fulminante tiene sus cosas. Anoche nos relató que las abejas lo quieren tanto que hicieron un panal en su techo, en la medida justa para que la miel se caiga en la boca cuando perecea en la hamaca.

¿ A que no me van a creer ? Pues resulta que me empieza a doler una muela, una de las de aquí atrás. La jodida no me dejaba en paz. i Que si una punzada aguda, que si otra peor ! Lo terrible es que me creció y ya no podía ni cerrar la boca. Me dolía tanto que hasta dejé de contar cuentos. A la gente que venía les enseñaba un rótulo que decía : no puedo hablar, estoy transitoriamente mudo. Con decirles que se me olvidó qué era dormir porque en cuanto cerraba los ojos, la maldita muela se complacía en perforarme la mandíbula y hasta los oídos se me tapaban con el ruido de un taladro casi de minas. La cara se me hinchó de tal manera que la nariz se me desapareció, ya no tenía perfil, era una bola completa y con orejas. Ante ya lo insufrible me empecé a remediar con cuanta planta sabía que me podría aliviar. Hasta tomé tecitos de yerbabuena con hojas de reina de la noche, que me repararon el sueño. Ya sin esperanza alguna me vine al pueblo y busqué al dentista. Me dijo que había que sacar la tal desgraciada muela y para eso era necesario que me deshinchara. No fue tarea fácil, pero con esperanza, rezos y conversaciones de convencimiento con mi propia piel, se me volvió a ver la nariz, esta misma que ven aquí. Recuperado el rostro y descrecida la muela, volví donde el dentista, quien me aseguró que no me dolería mucho. Me puso una inyección que para qué les cuento, fue un pinchazo tan agudo que me abrió los esfínteres y a mí me dio mucho miedo hacer la gracia de dar del cuerpo en aquel momento. ¡ Qué vergüenza hubiera pasado ! Por dicha me puse aquí la mano derecha y pude sostener lo que se venía. El dentista me abrió la boca, metió las tenazas y empezó a echar fuerzas. Nada, la muela inmóvil. ¡ Qué terca la condenada ! Entonces llamó a su ayudante y entre los dos jalaron. Nada. Inmóvil la desgraciada. Llamaron a otra gente y se fue haciendo una cadena, que llenó la clínica y recorrió tres cuadras hasta la iglesia. Todos muy empeñados en hacer fuerzas. Nada. Quieta como una roca. Alguien sugirió una yunta de bueyes. Todavía no

surrounding area. Our communication was perfect. And what an impression she made! My hammock began filling with frogs and the first to arrive started rubbing my cheek. I could no longer move as I didn’t want to scare any of them away. It was then that the first frog pried my mouth open, practically by force, and jumped in. I had to swallow her because she was choking me and as she passed further inside I felt like my throat might shatter. Ever since, I’ve had something of a frog inside me and frogs everywhere follow me around with the utmost confidence, lacking any fear. Look how close they are right now, over here, over there. Even on the roof! And every day since, I’ve always undressed before going to sleep. I like insects and when I’m on the floor I jump like them. I even sing like them. When I told this story for the first time someone called me the Frogmaster given that so many frogs were constantly following me. I did not dislike the nickname and, at any rate, it’s been the only title conferred to me in this place people call the University of Life.”

Later, when everyone was heading home, a neighbor commented to another that the Frogmaster seemed to be unaware of the fact that many had affectionately nicknamed him the Fulminant Fibber. A lie, when it is an obvious exaggeration, is welcomed everywhere like fresh fruit on a hot day. Lies bring joy and each acknowledged how good don Fulminante’s stories were. And they would pass the story on to others but without the grace of detail and gesture that the beloved old man employed in his execution. They would say, for example: that don Fulminante has his things. Last night he told us about the bees that love him so much they built a honeycomb on his ceiling. They built it in such a way that the honey would drip right down into his mouth while he was lounging in his hammock.

“Wouldn’t you believe it? It so happened that one day I began to have a toothache, it was one of these back here. The wretched thing wouldn’t leave me alone. As soon as one sharp pain struck a sharper one followed! The pains got so bad I couldn’t even close my mouth anymore. I stopped telling stories from the agony. When people came by I had to show them a sign that read: “Can’t talk. Temporarily mute.” I forgot what it was to sleep because as soon as I closed my eyes the damned molar would indulge itself in stabbing my jaw. It got to the point I could no longer hear thanks to a noise that filled my ears like that of a jackhammer. My face swelled up and my nose disappeared. I no longer had a profile; my head was like a soccer ball with ears. Faced with such excruciating conditions I began trying to cure myself with any kind of plant I knew might bring relief. I drank spearmint teas with brugmansia leaves. This allowed me to sleep. Feeling quite hopeless, I journeyed to town in search of a dentist. The dentist informed me he would need to remove the nasty little molar and, in order to do this, it would be necessary for the

me explico cómo la conectaron con mi muela. Los puyaron y los dos muy juntos y parejos arrancaron calle arriba hasta que sentí que la muela iba para afuera. Fue una sensación falsa y absolutamente ilusoria. Ahí estaba la muela pegadita hasta que se rompió la conexión. El dentista me dijo, mire don Fulminante esa muela es muy suya y no quiere dejarlo, mejor quédese con ella, aunque he hecho más fuerzas que nunca y he perdido toda la mañana, no me debe nada. Me pareció justa su decisión y me quedé con la muela que véanla está enterita y buena, además desde aquellos esfuerzos nunca más me ha molestado ni dolido.

Don Fulminante, buenos días, ¿cómo le va? Bien gracias a Dios. En la nochecita lo espero pero, ¿a que no me va a creer?

swelling in my face to go down. That was no easy task. But with hope, prayer, and a few persuasive conversations with my own skin, my nose began to be visible again, the same one you see in front of you. With my face back to normal and the molar down to size, I went back to the dentist. He assured me the procedure would not hurt too much. He gave me an injection which, let me tell you, poked me so hard that my sphincter opened and I was quite afraid I might lose control of myself. How embarrassing that would have been! Luckily I was able to put my right hand down and hold back what was certain to come. The dentist opened my mouth, stuck his forceps in, and began forcefully pulling. But, alas! The molar would not budge! How stubborn that wretched tooth was! So, the dentist called in his assistant and between the two of them they pulled together. Zilch. The vile thing refused to move. They called still more people in and they began forming a chain that ran out of the clinic and stretched three blocks until it reached the church. Each person was determined to do their best. Still nothing. Immovable as a mountain. Someone suggested calling in a yoke of oxen. I’m still not sure how they tied them up to my tooth. Some folks prodded the oxen and the pair practically tore the ground up until I thought I felt the tooth come out. But it was false hope, completely fictitious. The molar was still there, unmoving. It stayed that way until the ropes broke. The dentist then said, “Look, don Fulminante, that molar is very much yours and has no desire to part from you. It would be better if you kept it despite all our efforts to pull it out. Although we’ve spent the entire morning trying, you owe me nothing.” His decision seemed fair and so I kept the tooth which, if you’ll have a look, is still there, healthy and whole. And what’s more, after all those struggles, it hasn’t once given me trouble or pained me in the slightest again.

Good morning, don Fulminante. How do you do? I’m doing well, thank you very much. In the early evening I wait for him but: wouldn’t he believe it?

72 | Latin

136 Psalmus David, Jeremiæ.

From Clementine Vulgate

1Super flumina Babylonis illic sedimus et flevimus, cum recordaremur Sion. 2In salicibus in medio ejus suspendimus organa nostra : 3quia illic interrogaverunt nos, qui captivos duxerunt nos, verba cantionum ; et qui abduxerunt nos : Hymnum cantate nobis de canticis Sion. 4Quomodo cantabimus canticum Domini in terra aliena ? 5Si oblitus fuero tui, Jerusalem, oblivioni detur dextera mea. 6Adhæreat lingua mea faucibus meis, si non meminero tui ; si non proposuero Jerusalem in principio lætitiæ meæ. 7Memor esto, Domine, filiorum Edom, in die Jerusalem : qui dicunt : Exinanite, exinanite usque ad fundamentum in ea. 8Filia Babylonis misera ! beatus qui retribuet tibi retributionem tuam quam retribuisti nobis. 9Beatus qui tenebit, et allidet parvulos tuos ad petram.

Ref: The Clementine Vulgate Project. Online. http://vulsearch.sourceforge.net/html/Ps.html Accessed: 13 Feb. 2014.