Ex 291/ Daddy loves you
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Message de here4u posté le 15-01-2025 à 11:34:32 (S | E | F)
Hello dears!
Voici votre nouvel extrait à traduire. Vous verrez que le style n'a rien à voir avec celui de Frank McCourt...
- L'anglais est tellement varié ! - Espérons que vous vous laisserez " prendre " par cette autre histoire d'enfant...
Le texte n'est pas difficile, mais l'atmosphère peut parfois sembler étrange...
Translate into French:
Your Daddy loves you, that's the one true thing.
Never forget Princess: that's the one true thing in your life of mostly lies.
That wild day! I'd woken before it was even dawn, I seemed to know what a terrible happiness was
in store.
I was five years old; I was feverish with excitement, when Daddy came to pick me up for our
Saturday adventure as he called it, it had just begun to snow; Momma and I were standing at the tall windows
of our eighteenth-floor apartment looking out across Central Park, when the doorman rang Momma whispered in my ear,
"If you said you were sick, you wouldn't have to go with- him." For she could not utter the word Daddy, and
even the words your father made her mouth twist. I said, "Momma, I'm not sick! I'm not." So the doorman sent
Daddy up. Momma kept me with her at the window, her hands that sometimes trembled firm on my shoulders and her chin
resting on the top of my head so I wanted to squirm away but did not dare, not wanting to hurt Momma's feelings or
make her angry. So she stood watching the snowflakes- a thousand million snowflakes drifting downward out of the sky
glinting like mica in the thin sunshine of early December.
Joyce Carol Oates, A Manhattan Romance.
Cet exercice est un et sa correction sera en ligne le mercredi 29 janvier 2025.
As ever, THE FORCE will be with You!
Message de here4u posté le 15-01-2025 à 11:34:32 (S | E | F)
Hello dears!
Voici votre nouvel extrait à traduire. Vous verrez que le style n'a rien à voir avec celui de Frank McCourt...
- L'anglais est tellement varié ! - Espérons que vous vous laisserez " prendre " par cette autre histoire d'enfant...
Le texte n'est pas difficile, mais l'atmosphère peut parfois sembler étrange...
Translate into French:
Your Daddy loves you, that's the one true thing.
Never forget Princess: that's the one true thing in your life of mostly lies.
That wild day! I'd woken before it was even dawn, I seemed to know what a terrible happiness was
in store.
I was five years old; I was feverish with excitement, when Daddy came to pick me up for our
Saturday adventure as he called it, it had just begun to snow; Momma and I were standing at the tall windows
of our eighteenth-floor apartment looking out across Central Park, when the doorman rang Momma whispered in my ear,
"If you said you were sick, you wouldn't have to go with- him." For she could not utter the word Daddy, and
even the words your father made her mouth twist. I said, "Momma, I'm not sick! I'm not." So the doorman sent
Daddy up. Momma kept me with her at the window, her hands that sometimes trembled firm on my shoulders and her chin
resting on the top of my head so I wanted to squirm away but did not dare, not wanting to hurt Momma's feelings or
make her angry. So she stood watching the snowflakes- a thousand million snowflakes drifting downward out of the sky
glinting like mica in the thin sunshine of early December.
Joyce Carol Oates, A Manhattan Romance.
Cet exercice est un et sa correction sera en ligne le mercredi 29 janvier 2025.
As ever, THE FORCE will be with You!
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