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  1. #1

    Mournn de Tristannaverniles I Remembrance Of the Future

    French text

    _ Jamais je ris, jamais je pleure. Je suis une ombre, et dans mes yeux brûlent les temps vieux et beaux, l'âtre de mes paupières est le tréteau où s'enracine l'âme que je dévore, là devant vous je place le poids des anciennes rimes sur la faucille de mon verbe laid : je suis la mort de celui qui prétend posséder le courage de lire pire que les orbites d'un décapité.

    Qui m'approche voit se briser le cadran de sa dernière heure, la lueur de l'aiguille indiquant l'heure du néant qu'il n'avait su prévoir. Mon nom importe peu, l'on me demanderait d'en donner un indice que je laisserais, au hasard, le plus simple et le plus fade devant vos yeux pétrifiés : Mournn. Je suis le serviteur de Sa Majesté l'Osselet de Pierre, vous la nommez la mort parce qu'elle rappelle en vous une tombe, un vase, un trou, un souvenir. Oui je me dévoile enfin ! Quand vous trépassez sous le pont du torrent de l'existence, j'apparais sur Son ordre, hurlant ce qui n'est que sentence et châtiment pour vos crimes décidés ou non consentis. Peu nous importe. Vous devenez statues tandis que l'éternité se libère de vos vêtements, car la vérité c'est que plus personne face à Elle ou à moi mérite l'immortel trône qu'on érigeait autrefois aux héros. Vous n'êtes plus des dieux, ni des rois, homme ou femme sans fin à la chair condamnés, vous disparaissez sous mon coup de serpe, et dans le tonnerre d'une impossible tempête explosez en pensées, crépitement d'étoiles inutiles !

    Or, ce que moi, Mournn, j'ai miré partout en d'autres lieux et d'autres époques, je l'ai brisé par défi à l'Osselet.

    « J'ai déjà été l'homme d'un destin qui aurait pu être. » Criais-je à la grille du jour, pour mieux le braver en piétinant le jardin gris de son palais.

    Hélas ! Comme il hurla de rire. De sa griffe il darda un rayon sur mes mots car il savait mon arme la plus puissante enfermée dans la cadence de chaque roulement de mes syllabes ! Immédiatement je perdis le sens de la parole, et le puissant sorcier que j'étais, devenais ce que je suis devant vous, un spectre, un drap agité de breloques aux sons des pantomimes sinistres, oui ! j'avais pour seule récompense à ma révolte la putride figure d'une momie vaudou, une Liche !

    Pourquoi avoir tenté le Grand Échalas comme vous le surnommez alors que vous ignorez son Absolue frayeur ? Parce que je détenais une épée que j'avais conçu grâce mes misérables travaux, en secret le croyais-je sur une forge alimentée par le soleil de ses cauchemars, vos crimes et vilenies, là dans la cheminée du palais que j'avais tant de fois arpenté en tant que laquais... oh ! assez tout cela est terminé !

    Qui de plus puissant que moi peut foudroyer encore mes ailes ? Personne. Lisez ces mots, ailleurs le Souvenir de l'Avenir est mieux établi et l'ouvrage plus copieux, vous le goûterez quand je sortirai de ma torpeur.

    « La vie est une nuit qui jamais ne s'éclaire, un enfant qui surgit dans un éclair et meurt ! De la lumière n'ayant vu que l'ombre... Or un nouveau matin se lève sur le tombeau du monde, où demain vous méditerez d'autres rêves et soulèverez des pierres encore plus profondes ! »

    English text :

    Never I laugh, never I cry. I am a shadow, and in my eyes burn the beautiful old times, the hearth of my eyelids is the trestle where the soul is rooted that I devour. Here's the swamp where I place before you on sickle of my ugly word the weight of mystical rhymes : I am the death of one who claims to have the courage to read worse than the orbits of a beheaded.

    Approach that sees me break the face of his last hour, the light of the needle indicating the time of void that he had not to foresee. My name does not matter, you ask me to give a clue that I would leave at random, the simplest and most fade before your eyes petrified: Mournn. I am the servant of His Majesty the stone ossicle, you name it Death because it reminds you of a grave, a vase, a hole, a memory. Yes I finally revealed ! When you drown under the bridge-Torrent engulfing entire life, I appear to His command, yelling to the address of the cosmic lights sentence and punishment for your crime. Causes matter to us. You become statues while eternity release your clothes, because the truth is that no one face to her or me deserves immortal throne erected once erected in honor of the hero. You are no longer gods or kings, but now man or woman endless flesh condemned, you disappear under my billhook, and under the thunders of our storms you blow up in thoughts, kind of crackling stars useless!

    But me, Mournn, what I have seen around in other places and other times, I have broken it for a challenge to the ossicle.

    "I've been a man of destiny could have been. " I screamed at the gate of the day, it was the better defy, trampling the gray garden of his palace.

    Alas! As he roared with laughter. Her claw darted a ray on my words because he knew my most powerful weapon locked in the rate of each my crying syllables! Immediately I lost the sense of the word, and the powerful sorcerer that I was, was becoming a ghost, a sheet agitating little charms in sinister sounds, an actor without reason. Yes! I had my reward for the revolt : I'm haunting your dreams as a putrid a mummy voodoo, a Lich!

    Why have sought the Great Smudge as you call while you ignore its absolute fear ? Because I held a sword that I developed with my miserable work, I thought my creation in the secret of a forge fueled by the sun of his nightmares, your crimes and abominations, here in the chimney of the palace that I had so many times surveyed as lackey ... oh! rather ! it is all finished !

    Who mightier than I can blast my wings yet? Person. Read these words, also the Remembrance of the Future is better established in a more extensive work, you will enjoy when I get out of my torpor.

    "Life is a night that never illuminates, a child who pops up in a flash and dies! Create light and having seen only the shadow ... Now a dawn rises over the tomb of the world, where you meditate tomorrow other futures, dreams that you'll raise are stones even deeper! "


    ---Urgh I'm tired and I don't know if this post is well-placed, thanks for your patience---

  2. #2
    It could be worse. ~tmso Moderator N. E. White's Avatar
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    Hi Amalgalia!

    Welcome to the forum. Did you want a critique of your translation or were you just showing off?

    Either way, welcome.

  3. #3

    About my translations

    hello everybody,
    thanks for those who had had the courage to read my traduction of my own french text. I suppose there were many faults of syntax, inadequate words of vocabulary. My purpose is not to flood the forum with badly translated and unbearable texts in the long run. I missed the translation of the second text, AMALGALIA: quenn of the space.The epic genre hardly suggested in my (humble) text in French cannot be translated so easily poetically into English or into American. They are two different languages moreover. (A dictionary Collins, an internet "Reverso", it is insufficient :/)

    So, if somebody wishes to critic my translations or bring its translation to the text " Never I laugh, never I cry, ..." I would be happy to see the opinions and the real difference in english ! The second text is absolutely missed, I do not know how to delete it. I'll contact an administrator (if it's authorized, TMSO, please could you delete the text "AMALGALIA, queen of the space" ?)

    I believe in the digital publication in France, a very late domain compared with you, because of our attachment in old literary traditions and the domination of about forty big brands of publishing. The country is small, and the Edition, the transmission, the distribution of books are made by Paris, a city which demands the perfection

    I have just read this on sffworld.com > Books and Literature > General Fiction
    Reload this Page Buying Used books - Any guilt involved? Any authors here want to chime in?

    by STEVEN L JORDAN September 19th, 2012, 04:26 PM
    quote :
    "With the growing use of ebooks, it would be nice to think that books will never again go "out of print," and that authors can now earn more from their books by keeping them in digital circulation, every book a "new" book. We'll see how practical and realistic that turns out to be... but an author can have hope. "

    and this by ACTION AVENUE Yesterday, 07:02 PM
    quote :
    "My preference is to buy new books whenever possible. This is especially true if I need to purchase a "how to" book of sorts, which might require me to do some highlighting and note taking within the book. I have bought used books on rare occasion, like if I know the book is out of print, or if I am at the rare garage sale that has books worth buying. I love bookstores, by the way; hope we don't lose them entirely to ebooks, ereading devices or purchasing books on the net.

    As for me, I am an amateur writer who can emerge only thanks to ebooks. But in France we say "you can't judge a book by its cover", (l'habit ne fait pas le moine) and books are more attractive than ebooks. We are not used to looking if a personality praises the quality of a beginner. Only the cult of the extraordinary book, the genius and the masterpiece is enough for us to sort out very fast (too fast) the rare good books of "others".

    On the site SFFworld.com, I learn to make for me an idea of the digital potential of the multilingual books, -science fiction and romance, THE Anglo-american domain) in front of the "french paper-literary mountain"

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