H. P. Lovecraft | Escritor |
Publicado por vez primera en octubre de 1934 en The Fantasy Fan.
II. Pursuit
I held the book beneath my coat, at pains
To hide the thing from sight in such a place;
Hurrying through the ancient harbor lanes
With often-turning head and nervous pace.
Dull, furtive windows in old tottering brick
Peered at me oddly as I hastened by,
And thinking what they sheltered, I grew sick
For a redeeming glimpse of clean blue sky.
No one had seen me take the thing—but still
A blank laugh echoed in my whirling head,
And I could guess what nighted worlds of ill
Lurked in that volume I had coveted.
The way grew strange—the walls alike and madding—
And far behind me, unseen feet were padding.
▲Título▼ | Autor | ▲Año▼ | ▲Idioma▼ |
---|---|---|---|
Persecución | Juan Antonio Santos | 1988 | Español |
Persecución | Luis Gámez | 2011 | Español |