Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Narration: Before the Law



Before the Law: Franz Kafka

Before the law there is a guardian.
 A farmer is presented against this guardian, and requests that it be allowed to enter the Law but the guardian replied that for now cannot let go. The man ponders and asks if I let you in later.
'Perhaps,' said the guard, but not for now.
The door to the law is open, as usual, when the guardian is done to one side, the man bends to spy. The guard sees him, smiles and says:
-If your desire is so great to go try it despite my ban. But remember that I am powerful. And I'm just the last of the guards. Between living and lounge are also guardians, each more powerful than the other. Since the third guard is so terrible that I cannot even looking.
The farmer had not expected such difficulties: the law should always be accessible to everyone, he thinks, but looks at the keeper, with her fur coat, large and aquiline nose, black Tartar beard, sparse, black, decides that wait his specific needs.
The guard gives him a stool and lets him sit at the side of the door.
There waiting days and years. Try countless times and fatigue guardian enters their pleas.
Often the guardian talk briefly with him, asking questions about their country and about many other things, but they are indifferent questions, like those of the great lords, and finally always repeat that cannot let go.
The man, who has provided many things for the journey, sacrifices everything, however valuable it may be, to bribe the guard. It accepts all, indeed, but he says:
-I accept to not think you've missed any effort.

During those long years the man observes the gatekeeper almost continuously: forget the other and it seems that this is the only obstacle that separates it from the law curses his bad luck, in the early years boldly and loudly, more lately, as he get older, only mumbles to himself.
 Return to childhood, and as in his careful and long contemplation of the Guardian has come to know even the fleas in his fur collar, also begs the fleas to help him and convince the guard.
Finally, his eyesight weakened, and I do not know if there really is less light, or if only your eyes deceive you. But amid the darkness distinguishes a glow, arising unquenchable door of the Law already has little time to live. Before he died, all those long years’ experiences merge in his mind into one question, which so far has not made.  Beckons the guard to come closer, as the rigor of death begins to harden his body. The guardian is forced to bend over a lot to talk to him, because the disparity in heights between the two has increased considerably over time, to the detriment of the farmer.
- What do you know now?
Asks  the Guardian. You're insatiable.

-Everyone strives to reach the Law, says the man, and how then is it possible for so many years no one but me pretend in?

The Guardian understands that the man is about to die, and for its flagging senses perceive his words, he says with a booming voice in his ear:

-Nobody could unintentionally because this post was just for you. Now I will close it.

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