par Oscar Wilde
traduida par Simon Davies
A cada posmedia, cuando los veni de la scola, la enfantes vade per jua en la jardin de la Jigante.
Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant’s garden.
Lo es un jardin grande e deletante, con erba verde mol. Asi e ala supra la erba flores bela sta como stelas, e on ave des-du pescos cual en la primavera esplode con flores delicata de ros e perla, e en la autono fruti abundante. La avias reposa sur la arbores e canta tan dulse ce la enfantes sesa frecuente sua juas per escuta los. “Nos es tan felis asi!” los dise a se.
It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. “How happy we are here!” they cried to each other.
Ma a un dia la Jigante reveni. El ia vade per visita sua ami, la Ogro Cerneues, e ia abita con el tra sete anios. Cuando la sete anios es pasada, el ia dise ja tota cual el ave per dise, car sua conversa es limitada, e la Jigante deside reveni a sua castel propre. Cuando el ariva, el vide la enfantes juante en la jardin.
One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.
“Cual vos fa asi?” el cria con vose multe ru, e la enfantes fuji.
“What are you doing here?” he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.
“Mea jardin propre es mea jardin propre,” la Jigante dise; “cualce person pote comprende acel, e me permete ce nun jua en lo, ma sola me.”
“My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant; “any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.”
Donce el construi un mur alta sirca la tota, e erije un sinia de avisa.
So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.
El es un Jigante multe egoiste.
He was a very selfish Giant.
La enfantes povre ave aora no loca de jua. Los atenta jua sur la rua, ma la rua es multe polvosa e plen de petras dur, e los no gusta lo. Los vaga frecuente sirca la mur alta pos la fini de sua lesones, e parla sur la jardin bela a la interna. “Nos ia es tan felis ala,” los dise a se.
The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. “How happy we were there,” they said to each other.
Alora la Primavera reveni, e tota partes de la campania ave flores peti e avias peti. Sola en la jardin de la Jigante Egoiste lo es ancora la inverno. La avias no desira canta en lo car on no ave la enfantes, e la arbores oblida flori. A un ves un flor bela leva sua testa per emerji de la erba, ma cuando lo vide la sinia de avisa, lo compati tan multe la enfantes ce lo lisca de nova su la tera e adormi.
Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep.
La solas ci es contente es la Neva e la Jelada. “La Primavera oblida esta jardin,” los cria, “donce nos va abita asi tra la anio intera.”
The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has forgotten this garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all the year round.”
La Neva covre la erba par sua capa grande e blanca, e la Jelada pinti arjentin tota arbores. Alora los invita la Venta Norde per resta con los, e el veni. El es envolveda en pelos, e el ruji tra la dia intera en la jardin, e par sofla fa ce la xapetas de la ximine cade. “Esta es un loca deletante,” el dise, “nos debe invita la Graniza per visita.” Donce la Graniza veni. En tre oras de cada dia el bate ruidosa sur la teto de la castel, asta cuando el rompe la plu multe ardosias, e alora el core multe sirca la jardin tan rapida como el pote. El es gris vestida, e sua respira sembla la jelo.
The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. “This is a delightful spot,” he said, “we must ask the Hail on a visit.” So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.
“Me no pote comprende perce la Primavera veni tan tarda,” dise la Jigante Egoiste, sentante a la fenetra e regardante sua jardin fria blanca; “me espera ce la clima va cambia.”
“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; “I hope there will be a change in the weather.”
Ma la Primavera ariva nunca, e nunca la Estate. La Autono dona frutas orin a cada jardin, ma a la jardin de la Jigante el no dona. “El es tro egoiste,” el dise. Donce es sempre la Inverno ala, e la Venta Norde, e la Graniza, e la Jelada, e la Neva fa sua dansas entre la arbores.
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none. “He is too selfish,” she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.
A un matina la Jigante reposa veliada en sua leto cuando el oia un musica bela. Lo sona tan dulse a sua oreas ce el suposa sin duta ce la musicistes de la re prosimi. Vera, la sona es sola un lineta peti cual canta estra sua fenetra, ma tra tan multe tempo el no escuta un avia cantante en sua jardin ce la musica pare a el como la plu bela de la mundo.
One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world.
Alora la Graniza sesa dansa supra sua teto, e la Venta Norde sesa ruji, e un parfum deletante veni a el tra la fenetra abrida.
Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement.
“Me crede ce la Primavera ia veni a fini,” dise la Jigante; e el salta de la leto e regarda a estra.
“I believe the Spring has come at last,” said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.
Cual el vide?
What did he see?
El vide un vista multe merveliosa. Tra un buco peti en la mur la enfantes ia entra rampente, e los senta sur la ramos de la arbores. Sur cada arbor cual el pote vide on ave un enfante peti. E la arbores es tan felis de ave la enfantes denova ce los ia covre se con flores, e brandi dulse sua brasos supra la testas de la enfantes. La avias vola entre tota e pia de deleta, e la flores regarda a supra tra la erba verde e rie.
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing.
Lo es vera un sena bela, ma en un parte de la jardin lo es ancora la inverno. Acel es la parte de la jardin la plu distante, e ala un xico peti sta. El es tan peti ce el no pote estende se a la ramos de la arbor, e el vaga multe sirca lo, plorante amarga. La arbor povre es ancora plen covreda de jelada e neva, e la Venta Norde sofla e ruji supra el. “Asende! xico peti,” dise la Arbor, e el curvi sua ramos a tan basa como el pote. Ma la xico es tro pico.
It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. “Climb up! little boy,” said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.
E la cor de la Jigante fonde cuando el regarda a estra. “Me ia es tan egoiste!” el dise; “aora me sabe perce la Primavera no ia vole veni asi. Me va pone acel xico povre peti a la culmina de la arbor, e a pos me va cade la mur, e mea jardin va es la jueria de la enfantes per sempre e sempre.” Vera, el regrete multe la cosas cual el ia fa.
And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. “How selfish I have been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for ever and ever.” He was really very sorry for what he had done.
Donce el vade silente a su e abri cuieta la porte xef, e sorti en la jardin. Ma cuando la enfantes vide el, los es tan asustada ce tota de los fuji, e la jardin deveni inverno denova. Sola la xico peti no fuji, car sua oios es tan plen de larmas ce el no vide la veni de la Jigante. E la Jigante prosimi jentil a pos e prende el en sua mano, e leva el a sur la arbor. E la arbor flori subita, e la avias veni per canta sur lo, e la xico peti estende se du brasos e lansa los sirca la colo de la Jigante, e besa el.
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him.
E la otra enfantes, cuando los vide ce la Jigante no plu es mal, reveni corente, e con los la Primavera veni. “Aora la jardin es per vos, enfantes peti,” dise la Jigante, e el prende un axa grande e cade la mur. E cuando la popla vade a la mercato a mediadia, los trova ce la Jigante jua con la enfantes en la jardin la plu bela cual los ia vide a cualce ves.
And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. “It is your garden now, little children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o’clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.
Los jua tra la dia intera, e en la sera los vade a la Jigante per dise adio a el.
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.
“Ma do es tua camerada peti?” el demanda: “la xico ci me ia pone sur la arbor?” La Jigante ama el la plu multe, car la xico ia besa el.
“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the boy I put into the tree.” The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.
“Nos no sabe,” responde la enfantes; “el ia parti.”
“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away.”
“Vos debe dise a el ce serta el ta veni asi doman,” dise la Jigante. Ma la enfantes dise ce los no sabe do el abita, e ce los ia vide el nunca a ante; e la Jigante senti multe triste.
“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.
A cada posmedia, pos la fini de sua lesones, la enfantes veni e jua con la Jigante. Ma on revide nunca la xico peti ci la Jigante ama. La Jigante es multe amable con tota enfantes, ma el anela sua ami peti e prima, e parla frecuente sur el. “Como lo ta plase a me vide el!” el dise abitual.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. “How I would like to see him!” he used to say.
La anios pasa, e la Jigante deveni multe vea e debil. El no pote plu jua, donce el senta en un sejon grande, e oserva la enfantes en sua juas, e amira sua jardin. “Me ave multe flores bela,” el dise; “ma la enfantes es la flores la plu bela de tota.”
Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. “I have many beautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.”
A un matina de inverno el regarda tra la fenetra cuando el vesti se. Aora el no odia la inverno, car el sabe ce lo es simple la primavera dorminte, e ce la flores reposa.
One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.
Subita el frota stonada sua oios, e regarda multe. La sena es serta merveliosa. En la parte la plu distante de la jardin on ave un arbor covreda con flores blanca e bela. Tota sua ramos es orin, e frutas arjentin pende de los, e a su sta la xico peti ci el ia ama.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
Plen de joia, la Jigante core a su, e sorti en la jardin. El freta tra la erba, e prosimi a la enfante. E cuando el veni vera prosima, sua fas roji par coleria, e el dise, “Ci ia osa feri tu?” Car sur la palmas de la manos de la enfante es la marcas de du clos, e la marcas de du clos es sur la pedes peti.
Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, “Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.
“Ci ia osa feri tu?” cria la Jigante; “dise a me, afin me prende mea spada e mata el.”
“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.”
“No!” responde la enfante; “ma esta feris es de la Ama.”
“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds of Love.”
“Ci es tu?” dise la Jigante, e un teme strana gloriosa pleni el, e el cade a jenos ante la xico peti.
“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.
E la enfante surie a la Jigante, e dise a el, “Tu ia permete a me jua a un ves en tua jardin; oji tu va veni con me a mea jardin, cual es la Paradiso.”
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.”
E cuando la enfantes ariva corente en acel posmedia, los trova ce la Jigante reposa mor su la arbor, e tota covreda con flores blanca.
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.