Translation for "culpa de nada" to english
- fault of nothing
- guilty of anything
Similar context phrases
Translation examples
Catalina, cálmate un poco que el niño no tiene la culpa de nada.
Catalina, calm down a little, the child isn't guilty of anything.
Lo mejor que has hecho por él es demostrarle, no solo con palabras, sino también con hechos, que se merece todo lo que has hecho por él, que estás a su lado y que no tiene la culpa de nada.
The best thing you’ve done for him is prove to him, not just with words but with actions, that he’s worth everything you’ve done for him, that you stand behind him, and that he’s not guilty of anything.
Franz descendió a recogerlo, a salvarlo de esa zona de luz donde el muchacho cayó con una mueca involuntaria y lo tomó entre los brazos para regresar al altillo y hacía siglos, todos los siglos de estos días finales, que no tocaba la carne de otro ser, que no la abrazaba, sin quererlo, porque ahora su mano izquierda no sabe lo que hace la derecha, ni su pensamiento camina de acuerdo con su corazón, y tiene que aprovechar, sudoroso, débil, con la voz irritada que sale de su garganta roja y seca y pedregosa, ahora que puede tener en brazos este cuerpo y ascender con él al escondite, con este cuerpo que huele al sudor joven, aún infantil, de los niños mal lavados de los internados, cuando en el calor y los juegos de la vacación se forman surcos de sudor y tierra negra en las axilas lisas, y el pelo rubio y lacio le cae sobre la frente como si acabara de ganar una carrera y su fatiga debe ser, no de una herida, sino de un día de deportes, tiene que aprovechar para reconocerlo y disculparlo y decirle en voz baja que él, ese niño, no es culpable de nada, sólo obedeció, como él, Franz, sólo obedeció y todos lo dijeron, ¿no?, los oficiales, porque él era un oficial, un arquitecto adscrito al ejército, que no había culpa en servir al ejército, el ejército era anterior a todo, era la nación misma, y el ejército debía ganar la guerra para liquidar al partido y a los jefes, sí, y este niño no podía ser culpable.
Franz went down to pick him up and move him out of the light, carried him in his arms to the loft, and it had been centuries, the centuries of the past few days, since his flesh had touched the flesh of another human being. And now while his right hand went one way and the left another, and his thought walked out of step with his heart, he climbed to his hiding place carrying the light body of a boy, a body that smelled of young sweat, still childish, the sweat of boarding-school kids who wash too hurriedly after the heat of their games, the blond hair falling over his forehead as if he had just won a foot race and his fatigue were not from a wound but from hours of sports; while he climbed with the unconscious boy, he told him silently that he, a child, was not guilty of anything, he had merely followed orders as he himself, Franz, had, and that was what they all would say: he, Franz, had been an officer yet only an architect attached to the army, and certainly there was no guilt in serving the army, doing one’s duty, the army came before everything, it was the very German nation, and the army had had to win the war in order to rid the country of the Party and its leaders, yes, that was how it had been, and this child could not possibly be guilty. He gently laid the boy on the loft floor.
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