Basketball Diary
By Jim Carroll
Translated by Ricardo González Bertazioli
Producciones Editoriales, Barcelona, 1982.
Excerpt:
Esta noche, estoy subiendo a la zona con el tren “A” de Harlem. Está la tía esa, el tipo auténtico de azafata-secretaria, sentada con las piernas tan generosamente abiertas que veo sus bragas azul claro… Acabo por levantarme, voy hacia ella, y le ruego que, por favor, cierre sus piernas, diciéndole que apenas tengo quince años y que me está confundiendo y que aquello es una guarrada, francamente.
This isn’t the usual selection I use, but I was happy to make use of my many years of Spanish classes to ID it. Er … a lot has been omitted in the translation.
SUMMER 65
I’m riding the “A” train tonight, half on the nod and half trying to read a sports magazine. There’s this chick that gets on at 175th St., a real secretary-stewardess type with big tits and the beehive hair job. she’s right across the way from me, hardly any people in the car, and here she is tossing this spread toward me so wide I can see her powder blue panties. What do these faces want out of me, an athletic youth trying to enjoy a nice heroin head and harmless magazine? Finally I got up and went over to her and asked her if she could please close her legs, I’m barely fifteen years old and it’s distracting and, frankly, lewd. Then I went over and sat down again.
I’m lazy, so here’s how Google Translated the Spanish translation back to English:
Tonight, I’m getting on the “A” train from Harlem. There’s this chick, the real stewardess-secretary type, sitting with her legs so wide open that I can see her light blue panties… I finally get up, go over to her, and beg her to please close her legs, telling her that I’m barely fifteen and she’s confusing me and that this is just filthy, frankly.
Kinda misses something, doesn’t it?