Le livre avec texte de Jessy Ritz et mes illustrations est déjà disponible édité par les Editions Minerve et Bacchus ! Vous pouvez le trouver en ligne sur leur site et en certaines librairies ainsi que :
I there inquired for a wise and intelligent man, at the same time giving the landlord to understand that I would like to have one tolerably conversant with magic. He conducted me to an unsightly house in a remote street, knocked thereat, and one let me in with the injunction that I should ask only for Muley. In the house, came to me a little old man with grizzled beard and a long nose, to demand my business. I told him I was in search of the wise Muley (…)
L‘Air et la Terre avaient une fille : Écho. Cette charmante nymphe vivait dans les bois aux côtés de la déesse Artémis. Elle allait de rivières en torrents ; les arbres lui servaient de toit, la mousse et les jeunes pousses de lit.
Ni phrase ni rire ne sortait plus de sa bouche. Elle répétait seulement les derniers mots qu’elle entendait. Écho était au désespoir. Cette punition était d’autant plus cruelle que notre jolie nymphe tomba éperdument amoureuse…
Yet still he seemed conscious that the willow-tree was stretching its branches over him; in his dreaming state the tree appeared like a strong, old man—the “willow-father” himself, who had taken his tired son up in his arms to carry him back to the land of home, to the garden of his childhood, on the bleak open shores of Kjoge. And then he dreamed that it was really the willow-tree itself from Kjoge, which had travelled out in the world to seek him, and now had found him and carried him back into the little garden on the banks of the streamlet; and there stood Joanna, in all her splendor, with the golden crown on her head, as he had last seen her, to welcome him back.
Il y demeurait un vieillard qui portait des culottes de peau et un habit à grands boutons de métal, tout à fait à l’ancienne mode; il avait aussi une perruque, mais une perruque qui paraissait bien être une perruque, et qui ne servait pas à simuler habilement de vrais cheveux. Tous les matins, un vieux domestique venait, nettoyait, faisait le ménage et les commissions, puis s’en allait. Le vieillard à culottes de peau habitait tout seul la vieille maison.
L’Ogre avait sept filles qui n’étaient encore que des enfants.(…).
Le petit Poucet qui avait remarqué que les filles de l’Ogre avoient des Couronnes d’or sur la teste, (…) se leva vers le milieu de la nuit, & prenant les bonnets de ses frères & le sien, il alla tout doucement les mettre sur la teste des sept filles de l’Ogre après leur avoir oté leurs Couronnes d’or qu’il mit sur la teste de ses frères & sur la sienne.
“I kissed you, when you were young, kissed you on your mouth! Now I kiss your feet, you are entirely mine!” He vanished in the clear blue water. Everything was still; the church bells stopped ringing; the last tones died away with the splendour of the red clouds. “You are mine!” sounded in the deep. “You are mine!” sounded from on high, from the infinite. How happy to fly from love to love, from earth to heaven! A string broke, a cry of grief was heard, the icy kiss of death conquered; the prelude ended; so that the drama of life might commence, discord melted into harmony.
The old man would read aloud about Africa, with its great forests and the wild elephants, while his wife would listen attentively, stealing a glance now and then at the clay elephants which served as flowerpots. “I can almost imagine I am seeing it all,” she said.
Ah! how the lamp wished for a wax taper to be lighted in it, for then the old woman would have seen the smallest detail as clearly as it did itself; the lofty trees, with their thickly entwined branches, the naked negroes on horseback, and whole herds of elephants treading down bamboo thickets with their broad, heavy feet.
Il est bien habillé, son habit est de soie, mais il est impossible d’en dire la couleur, il semble vert, rouge ou bleu selon qu’il se tourne, il tient un parapluie sous chaque bras, l’un décoré d’images et celui-là il l’ouvre au-dessus des enfants sages qui rêvent alors toute la nuit des histoires ravissantes, et sur l’autre parapluie il n’y a rien. Il l’ouvre au-dessus des enfants méchants, alors ils dorment si lourdement que le matin en s’éveillant ils n’ont rien rêvé du tout.
Dans une maison à Copenhague, non loin de Kongens Nytorv, s’était réunie chez un chambellan de Sa Majesté une société fort nombreuse et distinguée ; les hôtes avaient engagé tout ce beau monde pour être en retour aussi invités quelquefois (…)
Ce qu’on fit ensuite ne mérite pas non plus d’être raconté ; passons donc dans le vestibule, où se trouvaient les manteaux, les cannes, les galoches des invités. Là se tenaient deux filles, l’une vieille, l’autre jeune ; au premier abord, on aurait supposé que c’étaient des femmes de chambre, venues pour accompagner leurs maîtresses au retour. Mais en les considérant d’un peu plus près, on s’apercevait vite que ce n’étaient pas des domestiques, ni même des personnes ordinaires (…)
Dopo la tempesta viene la calma! Tre giorni fa il cielo era cupo, ora invece è sereno.
La pace è conclusa, l’assedio è levato. Stamani, dal buco della serratura, mi è stato promesso di non darmi più bastonate, e io ho promesso solennemente di ritornare a scuola, di studiare e di esser buono.
Così l’onore è stato salvo … e anche la mobilia e lo specchio grande, perché ho levato la barricata e sono uscito di camera.
The walls of the palace were formed of drifted snow, and the windows and doors of cutting winds. There were more than a hundred rooms in it, all as if they had been formed of snow blown together. The largest of them extended for several miles. They were all lighted up by the vivid light of the aurora, and were so large and empty, so icy cold and glittering!
There were no amusements here; not even a little bear’s ball, when the storm might have been the music, and the bears could have danced on their hind legs and shown their good manners. There were no pleasant games of snapdragon, or touch, nor even a gossip over the tea table for the young-lady foxes. Empty, vast, and cold were the halls of the Snow Queen.
‘I wonder if all the things move along with us?’ thought poor puzzled Alice. And the Queen seemed to guess her thoughts, for she cried, ‘Faster! Don’t try to talk!’
Not that Alice had any idea of doing that. She felt as if she would never be able to talk again, she was getting so much out of breath: and still the Queen cried ‘Faster! Faster!’ and dragged her along. ‘Are we nearly there?’ Alice managed to pant out at last.
‘Nearly there!’ the Queen repeated. ‘Why, we passed it ten minutes ago! Faster!’ And they ran on for a time in silence, with the wind whistling in Alice’s ears, and almost blowing her hair off her head, she fancied.
‘I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think–‘ (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word) ‘–but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia?‘ (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke–fancy curtseying as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) ‘And what an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.’
Never had he seen the skies so blue as they were to-day. Birds of passage came on the wing. They came from foreign lands, having travelled over the Baltic Sea, by way of Smygahuk, and were now on their way North. They were of many different kinds; but he was only familiar with the wild geese, who came flying in two long lines, which met at an angle.
‘I said you looked like an egg, Sir,’ Alice gently explained. ‘And some eggs are very pretty, you know’ she added, hoping to turn her remark into a sort of a compliment.
‘Some people,’ said Humpty Dumpty, looking away from her as usual, ‘have no more sense than a baby!’
Alice didn’t know what to say to this: it wasn’t at all like conversation, she thought, as he never said anything to her; in fact, his last remark was evidently addressed to a tree—so she stood and softly repeated to herself:—
‘Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall:
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.’