Seksitreffit Seksikeskustelu ~ Näytä viesti

Latinaa, kyllä... Mutta mitään tarkoitusperää sillä ei ole.

Lorem ipsum on taittajien ja layoyt suunnittelijoiden ahkerasti käyttämä sisältö joka ei käännettynäkään tarkoita yhtään mitään.

Ideana on saada esimerkiksi suunnitteilla olevalle nettisivulle tai lehden layoutille tekstisisältöä ilman merkitystä. Ihmisaivot tiedostamatta keskittyvät enemmän sisältöön kuin ulkoasuun, jos sisältö on merkityksellistä tekstiä. Sen takia tällaiseen demonstraatioon käytetään lorem ipsumia, joka ei tarkoita mitään - huomiokyky keskittyy siihen mihin tarkoituskin, eli työstettävään ulkoasuun.

Oskar Wilden sadusta eestintänyt Tulisydän

Isekas Hiiglane

Õhtupoole kui lapsed tulid koolist, neil oli kompeks minna mängima hiiglase viljapuuaeda.
Viljapuuaed oli avar ning ilus. Seal ksvas pehme roheline rohi. Rohul sätendasis lilled tähekestena: virskupuud tulvasid kevadel roosadena ning pärlmutrina sätendades ja sügisel need kandisid rikalikku saaki. Linnud laulsid puudes nii ilusasti, et lapsed seisid puu all kuulasid. Nad jätsid mängimese. "Siin on tore olla", nad ütlesid.

Siis hiiglane tuli koju. Ta oli olnud külas oma sõbra juures. Ta oli viibinud seitse aastat. Nende aastate ajal ta oli jõudunud rääkiga kõik oma asjad. Ta otsutas tagas tulla oma lassi. Kui ta tagasi tuli, ta märkas, et lapsed mängisid tema viljapuuaias. "Mis te siin teete?", ta karjus toore häälega ja lapsed jooksis kartes ära. "See viljapuuaed on minu!" hiiglane ütles, "seda on parem uskuda. Siin ei mängi keegi muu kui mina."
Ta ehitas kõrge müüri oma viljapuuaaia ümber ja asetas väravale sildi:

SIIA EI SAA TULLA
VÖIB SAADA TRAHVI

See hiiglane oli väga isekas. Lastel vaesekestel ei olnud enam mängimispaika. Lapset üritasid mängida tänaval, aga tee oli tolmune ja täis teravaid kive ja nad said kurvaks. Nad hakkisid käima müüri ümber peale kooli. Nad räägisid müüri sees pool olevast puuaiast: "Seal me olime õnnelikud!"

Tuli kevad - õhk oli tulvali lillesid ning lindusid. Aga hiiglase puuaias oli talv. Linnud ei tahtnud laulda seal, kui lapsed oli ära. Väike lill kergitas üks kord pea mullast, aga kui ta nägi keelutahvilt, sai ta murelikuks laste pärast nii, et vaibus maa alla ning magas.

Aga õnnelikud oli lumi ja pakane. "Kevat on unustanud selle aia!", need hüüsid, "hakkame elama siin kogu aasta." Lumi peitis maad ja pakane värvis puud hõbedaseks. Need kutsusid põhjatuule külla ja see tuli. Tal oli tugev vihmakeep. Kogu päev põhjatuul märatses puuaias, puhudes korstnad kummuli. "See on hea paik! kutsume rahekuuri külla." Rahekuur tuli. Iga päev ta raius lassikatusel kolme tundi nii, et katusekived lõpuks katkesid. Ja aias ta tormas ümber-ringi. Ta särk oli hall ja hing külm kui jää. "ma ei saa aru, kus kevad on!", hiiglane pomises, kui ta seisi akna kõrval vaatamas valget külma puuaeda, "loodaksin, et ilm juba muutuks."
Aga kevad ei tulnud, mitte kunagi, samuti suvi. Sügis kasvatas kuldsed puuvilad kõikjale viljapuuaedadesse, aga ei hiiglase omasse. "Ta on väga isekas," kevad ütlesid, aga talvel meeldis olla seal.
Põhjatuul, rahekuur, pakane ja lumi tantsisid aias ringi.

Üks kord hommikul, kui hiiglane lebas voodis, ta kuulis suurpärast laulu. See kuuldus tema lõrvu niin vaimustavalt, et ta arvas kuningaorkesteri tulevad. Aknal laulis ainult väike lind, aga hiiglane ei olnud pikka aega kuulnud linnulaulu oma aias, niin et talle tundus, et see on maailma ilusam musika.
Siis rahekuur lõpetas tantsimise, põhjatuul raiumise ja võluv lõhn kandus aknast, mis oli lahti, sisse.
"Nüüd kevad on kindlasti tulnud!" hiiglane ütles ja tõusis voodis üles. Ja mida ta nägi? Tema ees oli imepärane vaade. Lasped oli hiilnud kitsast müüriaugust sisse ning istusid puude okstel. Igas puus oli laps.
Puud oli nii rõõmusad, kui lapsed olid tulnud tagasi, et nee oli riietunud lilledesse ning kiigutanud tasasesti oksi. Linnud lendasid õnnelikuld lauldes ja lilled tõusis maast üles, rõõmust naerdes. Vaade oli vaimustav, talv oli ainult ühes nurgas. See oli aia kõiga kauemas paigas. Seal seisis üks väike poiss. Poiss oli niin väike, et ta ei ulatanud puu oksale. Ta jalutas oma puu ümber ja nuttis kibetasti. See puu oli veel lume ning jää all ja põhjatuul ulus selle okstel. "roni üles poiss!", ütles puu ja langes niin alla kui sai, aga poiss oli liiga väike. Hiiglase südames sulas jää, kui ta vaatas poisi üritamist.

"Kui ma ei oleks olnud isekas", ta ütles, "nüüd ma saan aru, miks kevad ei tahtnud tulla. Tõsta poja puuoksale ja siis lähen lõhun müüri ärä. Mu aiast tuleb laste mängimispaik." Ta kahetses töesti, mida ta oli teinud.

Ta hiilis alla, avas vaikselt ukse ja läks puuaeda. Aga lapsed nägid hiiglast, nad kartsid teda ja jooksis ära. Talv tuli tagas puuaeda. Väike poiss ei jooksnud ära, selleperast, et tal oli silmad täis pisaraid ja tai ei näinud hiiglast. Hiiglane seisis vaikeselt tema taga, võttis poisi käe oma kätte ja tõstis poisi puu otsa. Hetkes puu sai õied ja linnud tulid laulma ta okstele. Väike poiss pani käed hiiglase kaela ümber ja suudles hiiglast.

Teised lapsed märgasid, et hiiglane ei olnud enam paha. Nad tulid jooksujalga tagasi ja nendega koos tuli kevad. "Mu puuaed on nüüd teie," hiiglane ütles. Siis ta otsis kirve ja raius müüri maha.

Kui inimesed poole päeva aegu käisid turul, nägid nad hiiglase, kes mängis puuaias lastega ja puuaed oli ilusam, mida oli nähtud.

Kogu päev nad mängisid ja õhtul lapsed soovisid hiiglasele head ööd. "Aga kus on meie väike sõber?", hiiglane küsis, "See kelle ma tõstín puu otsa?" Seda poissi armastas ta kõige enam, sest poiss oli andnud talle suudluse. "Me ei tea!", teised vastasid, "ta on läinud ära". "Öelge talle, et ta tuleks homme."
Aga teised lapsed ei tundnud seda poissi ja nad ei teanud kus ta elas, nad ei olnud näinud teda varem. Hiiglane sai kurvaks.

Iga päev kui kooli lõppea, lapsed tulid mängima hiiglasega. Aga seda poissi, keda hiiglane armastas, ei nähtud enam. Hiiglane oli hea kõigile aga sellest hoolimata igatses ta oma sõbra. Ja ta räägis tast kogu aeg. "Küll ma tajaksin teda näha veel," oli tal kombeks ütelda.

Aastat läksid hiiglane jäi vanaks ja väsis ära. Ta ei jaksanud enam mängida vaid istus suures tugitoolis, vaadtes kuidas lapsed mängivad ja imetledes oma viljapuuaeda.

Ühel talvehommikul kui hiiglane hakkas riietuma, vaatas ta aknas välja, enam tai ei vihanud talve, sest ta teadis, et kevad oli magamas ja lille lebasid maa all. Äkki ta hämmastus ja hõõrus silmi. Siis ta jäi ainult vaatama. Vaade oli tõesti imepäranw. Aia kaugemas nurgas seisis üks puu täis õisi. Puu oksas olid kuldses, hõpedased puuviljad riipusid ta oksetel. Ja puu alla seisis tema armastatud poiss.

Hiiglane jooksis trepist alla ja söötis aeda. Ta jooksis kiirustades üle rohu ning seisis lapse juures. Kui ta poisi kohale kummardus, nägi ta suurt haava poisi näöl. "Kes sind haavata on julgenud!", hiiglane hüüsis ja, "ütle mulle ja ma otsin oma suure mõõga ja löön ta hingelt!" "Ära tee seda!", laps vastas, "need on armastuse haavad."

"Kes sa oled?" küsis hiiglane ja imepärane tunne käis tast läbi ja ta langes lapse ette. Laps naeratas hiiglasele ning ütles: "Kord sina andasid mu mängida sinu aias, täna võid tulla teise aeda - paradiisi."
Kui lapset tulid järgmisel päeval hiiglase aeda mängima, avastasid nad hiiglase, kes lebas puujuurel ja valget lilled peitsid teda, Ta oli surnud.
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Ma tänan minu eestkeele õpetaja ja tema tütruku, nad olid mulle suureks appiks

Mein Gott, das ist mir zu viel. Verdammt noch mal; ich kann das nicht ertragen. Um Himmelswillen bitte keine estonische Poesii mehr!

...quidquid latine dicitur,altum viditur.... Smile

Herzlich Danke für dich Härski!

The Selfish Giant
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Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant s garden.

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.

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.

"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.

"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." So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

TRESPASSERS
WILL BE
PROSECUTED

He was a very selfish Giant.

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.

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. 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." 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.

"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."

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.

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. 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. "I believe the Spring has come at last," said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.

What did he see?

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. 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.

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.

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. 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.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.

"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.

"We don t know," answered the children; "he has gone away."

"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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him."

"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of Love."

"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

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."

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

Literature Network » Oscar Wilde » The Selfish Giant

^ Kiitoksia Vieraalle tuosta käännöksestä englanniksi.
Eipähän Härskinkään tarvitse paheksua tuota eestiä nyt sitten.
Tuo nyt sattui vain olemaan minun taidonnäyte ja sitäkin tarvitsee sitten paheksua, mutta minkäs sille voi.

Kiitos vielä kerran Vieras!

Easy-poika voisi kääntää tuon saman saksaksi, jos vain on halua Very Happy

Vieras

Joo, se on härski tässä kun rekisteröitymättämä postaa. Oli tullut saamarin spammia äsken ja taisi assa tai E poistellakin sitä tossa samaan aikaan kun minäkin vähän poistelin. Muutin noita asetuksia spamminestoon kun robotit oli hokanneet mun tempun ja nyt testaan että nimettömänä postaaminen yleensä onnistuu, katsotaan kestääkö taas 3kk että robotit hokaa tämän kikan Very Happy

It wast`n me. Rolling Eyes

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