Le Joueur de flûte

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La quatrième jour, un étranger arriva à Hamelin et demanda à voir le maire :
-J’ai entendu dire que vous offriez mille pièces d’or à celui qui délivrerait la ville de ses rats.
Le maire demanda :
– Cela est vrai, mais qui êtes-vous ?
– On m’appelle le Joueur de flûte. Je sais comment vous aider.

Eugene Oneguine

il-fantasma

Его нежданным появленьем,
Мгновенной нежностью очей
И странным с Ольгой поведеньем
До глубины души своей
Она проникнута; не может
Никак понять его; тревожит
Ее ревнивая тоска,
Как будто хладная рука
Ей сердце жмет, как будто бездна
Под ней чернеет и шумит…
“Погибну”, Таня говорит,
“Но гибель от него любезна.
Я не ропщу: зачем роптать?
Не может он мне счастья дать”.

ГЛАВА ШЕСТАЯ

Traduction française… mais bien plus pale que l’original

La soudaine apparition d’Eugène, la tendresse qui avait un instant fait briller ses yeux, son étrange conduite avec Olga, tout cela a bouleversé l’âme de la jeune fille. Une angoisse jalouse l’oppresse ; il semble qu’une main glacée lui serre le cœur, et qu’un gouffre béant s’entr’ouvre et gronde sous ses pas « Je vais mourir, » dit-elle, « mais la blessure qui me vient de lui m’est chère ; je ne murmure pas : il ne peut me donner le bonheur ! »

 

Jeu au ghetto. Le sabotage amoureux

 

(…)
Non que ces sept années de peau, de chair, de cheveux et d’ossature eussent eu de quoi éclipser les créatures de rêve des jardins d’Allah et du ghetto de la communauté internationale.
La beauté du monde, c’était ma longue pavane offerte au jour, c’était la vitesse de mon cheval, c’était mon crâne déployé comme une voile aux souffles des ventilateurs.

(…)

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Amélie Nothomb

Death in Midsummer

 

 

 

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Tomoko ran down to the beach in her bare feet. The pine needles stabbed at her as she went through the groove. The tide had come in, and she had to climb over the rock to the bathing-beach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh? You’re related to the people who drowned at A. Beach? That’s too bad. Two children and a woman all at once, they say.

 

Yukio Mishima

The Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow

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I was told that if I were a good lad, kept my hair tidy, and did not tease the cat, I would probably, when I died, go to a place where all day long I would sit still and sing hymns.  (Think of it! as reward to a healthy boy for being good.)  There would be no breakfast and no dinner, no tea and no supper.  One old lady cheered me a little with a hint that the monotony might be broken by a little manna; but the idea of everlasting manna palled upon me, and my suggestions, concerning the possibilities of sherbet or jumbles, were scouted as irreverent.  There would be no school, but also there would be no cricket and no rounders.

 

Jerome K. Jerome

La notte, Io e l’ombra mia

Mi è avvenuto più volte, svegliandomi nel cuor della notte (la notte, in questo caso, non dimostra veramente d’aver cuore), mi è avvenuto di provare al bujo, nel silenzio, una strana meraviglia, uno strano impaccio al ricordo di qualche cosa fatta durante il giorno, alla luce, senz’abbadarci; e ho domandato allora a me stesso se, a determinar le nostre azioni, non concorrano anche i colori, la vista delle cose circostanti, il vario frastuono della vita. Ma sì, senza dubbio; e chi sa quant’altre cose! Non viviamo noi, secondo il signor Anselmo, in relazione con l’universo? Ora sta a vedere quante sciocchezze questo maledetto universo ci fa commettere, di cui poi chiamiamo responsabile la misera coscienza nostra, tirata da forze esterne, abbagliata da una luce che è fuor di lei. E, all’incontro, quante deliberazioni prese, quanti disegni architettati, quanti espedienti macchinati durante la notte non appajono poi vani e non crollano e non sfumano alla luce del giorno? Com’altro è il giorno, altro la notte, così forse una cosa siamo noi di giorno, altra di notte: miserabilissima cosa, ahimè, così di notte come di giorno.

lecce

Il fu Mattia Pascal

 Luigi Pirandello

 

Through the looking glass

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’Let’s pretend there’s a way of getting through into it, somehow. Let’s pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through. Why, it’s turning into a sort of mist now, I declare! It’ll be easy enough to get through—’

 

Alice

Little Muck

piccolo-mukGayly he wandered, the whole day, for he had set out to seek his fortune: if he saw upon the ground a potsherd shining in the sunlight, he took care to pick it up, in the belief that he could change it into a diamond of the first water; if he saw in the distance the cupola of a Mosque sparkling like fire, or the sea glittering like a mirror, he would hasten up, fully persuaded that he had arrived at fairy-land. But ah! these phantoms vanished as he approached, and too soon fatigue, and his stomach gnawed by hunger, convinced him that he was still in the land of mortals.

 

 

Wilhelm Hauff

Gerda’s garden

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“What! are there no roses here?” cried Gerda, and she ran out into the garden and examined all the beds, and searched and searched.

There was not one to be found. Then she sat down and wept, and her tears fell just on the place where one of the rose trees had sunk down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Snow Queen

La fée

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(…) and then an old, old woman came out of the house;
she was leaning upon a big, 
hooked stick,
and she wore a big sun hat,
which was covered 
with beautiful painted flowers.

Hans Christian Andersen

Marseille. Le Petit Chaperon Rouge

 

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Je vais voir ma mère-grand, et lui porter une galette avec un pot de beurre, que ma mère lui envoie.
Demeure-t-elle bien loin? lui dit le Loup.
Oh! oui, lui dit le Petit Chaperon Rouge; c’est par delà. le moulin que vous voyez tout là-bas, là-bas, à la première maison du village.
Eh bien, dit le Loup, je veux l’aller voir aussi; je m’y en vais par ce chemin-ci et toi par ce chemin-là, et nous verrons à qui plus tôt y sera.

Le Cabinet des Fées

At the old house

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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 (…)

The History of the Spectre Ship

Wilhelm Hauff

The party

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“I talked a bit about you, and this girl was standing around listening.
When you said an unattractive Ophelia it clicked somehow. I thought,
“now who does that remind me of?’ And then it came to me: “Of course.
The girl at the party that day.’ I rather think she belonged there (…)

Third girl, Agatha Christie

Каменный цветок

kamennoto cvete

Раз Данилушко и спрашивает:

– Ты, бабушка, всякий цветок в наших местах знаешь?
– Хвастаться, – говорит, – не буду, а все будто знаю, какие открытые-то.
– А разве, – спрашивает, – еще не открытые бывают?
– Есть, – отвечает, – и такие. Папору вот слыхал? Она будто цветет на Иванов день. Тот цветок колдовской. Клады им открывают. Для человека вредный. На разрыв-траве цветок – бегучий огонек. Поймай его – и все тебе затворы открыты. Воровской это цветок. А то еще каменный цветок есть. В малахитовой горе будто растет. На змеиный праздник полную силу имеет. Несчастный тот человек, который каменный цветок увидит.

Juliet

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Come, night;—come, Romeo;—come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back.—
Come, gentle night;—come, loving, black-brow’d night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.

William Shakespeare

 

Playground love

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I’m a high school lover, and you’re my favorite flavor.
Love is all, all my soul.
You’re my Playground Love.
Yet my hands are shaking.
I feel my body remains tense,
No matter, I’m on fire.
On the playground, love.
You’re the piece of gold that flushes all my soul.
Extra time, on the ground.
You’re my Playground Love.