Сто лет одиночества

           Theleavesofthealmondtreeswerebroken.Thehouses,paintedblue,thenpaintedred,hadendedupwithanindefinablecoloration.

           "Whatdidyouexpect?"úrsulasighed."Timepasses."

           Inthatwaythelong-awaitedvisit,forwhichbothhadpreparedquestionsandhadevenanticipatedanswers,wasoncemoretheusualeverydayconversation.Whentheguardannouncedtheendofthevisit,Aurelianotookoutarollofsweatypapersfromunderthecot.Theywerehispoetry,thepoemsinspiredbyRemedios,whichhehadtakenwithhimwhenheleft,andthosehehadwrittenlateronduringchancepausesinthewar."Promisemethatnoonewillreadthem,"hesaid."Lighttheovenwiththemthisverynight."úrsulapromisedstooduptokisshimgoodbye.

           "Ibroughtyouarevolver,"shemurmured.

           ColonelAurelianoBuendíasawthatthesentrycouldnotsee."Itwon’tdomeanygood,"hesaidinalowvoice,"butgiveittomeincasetheysearchyouonthewayout."úrsulatooktherevolveroutofherbodiceandputitunderthemattressofthecot."Anddon’tsaygoodbye,"heconcludedemphaticcalmness."Don’tbegorbowdowntoanyone.Pretendthattheyshotmealongtimeago."úrsulabitherlipsoasnottocry.

           "Putsomehotstonesonthosesores,"shesaid.

           Sheturnedhalfwayaroundandlefttheroom.ColonelAurelianoBuendíaremainedstanding,thoughtful,untilthedoorclosed.Thenhelaydownagainwithhisarmsopen.