Richard Cory by Edwin Arlington Robinson

 

Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked. And he was rich—yes, richer than a king— And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Siempre que Richard Cory bajaba a la ciudad nosotros lo mirábamos pasar desde la acera: él era un caballero de pies a coronilla, gustoso de lo limpio y regiamente enjuto. Y él estaba siempre compuesto con sosiego, y era siempre humano cuando hablaba; mas agitaba pulsos al decir los buenos días y resplandecía cuando andaba. Y sí que era rico, más rico que los reyes, y admirablemente triunfaba en cada gracia. En fin, nosotros nos creímos que era todo para soñar que estábamos viviendo en su lugar. Seguimos trabajando y esperando alguna luz, vivíamos sin carne y maldecíamos el pan, y en una calma noche de verano, Richard Cory fue a casa y se metió un balazo en la cabeza.