11 feb.
should, could
Verbe modale
17 aug.
Music Lover
After dinner one evening a rancher’s wife was entertaining their house guest by playing the piano. At one point she turned to the visitor and said, „I understand you love music.”
„Yes,” murmured the guest politely. „But never you mind. Keep right on playing.”
18 mai
Piano Lessons
A piano teacher rarely accepts preschoolers, because counting is so important in music. One day, pressed by a persistent mother, she agreed to interview a young lad of five.
To test his ability, she pointed to the clock and asked, „What number is the big hand pointing to?”
He answered slowly, „Four.”
„And the little hand?” the teacher coaxed.
Puzzled, he looked from the clock to her and asked, „Do you want to know the time?”
29 apr.
„Piano” de D.H. Lawrence
| Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me; Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings. |
Blând îmi cântă-n amurg o femeie – până mă duce Înapoi în adânc peste-ntinderi cu anii năluce Până văd un copil sub pian, sub corzile ce se bat, Apăsând piciorul cel mic al mamei care surâde-n cântat. |
| In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide. |
Insidioasa melodie mă fură, n-aş vrea, dar ştiu bine că Inima-mi plânge după acele seri de duminică De acasă, când afară sta iarna şi în plăcutul salon Ne călăuzea printre imnuri al pianului zvon. |
| So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past. |
Acum în zadar cântăreaţa se-avântă-nsoţită de marele Negru pian, appassionato. Fastuoase hotarele Copilăriei m-au năpădit, bărbăţia mi-e dusă-n torent De-amintiri, ca un prunc suspin după neprezent. |
| D.H. Lawrence | traducere de Grete Tartler |