Mon retour à la maison I(Thème)

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Mon retour à la maison I(Thème)
Message de violet91 posté le 27-05-2009 à 23:23:24 (S | E | F)
Bonsoir ,mes chers et fidèles amis..bienvenue à ceux qui vont peut-être agrandir le cercle. I must admit that the story is worth it! Vous allez aimer.



------------------Mon retour à la maison I. (Thème)-----------------------------


[.... - " Allo! C'est toi,Maman ?" dis-je.
Tout de suite ,elle reconnut ma voix. S'ensuivit un silence de courte durée-le temps qu'elle contrôle de haute lutte le flot de ses émotions.

Cela faisait trois ans que j'étais parti au front : trois ans que nous ne nous étions parlé.
A l'époque ,quand l'un ou l'autre se trouvait dans de lointains pays ,on ne se téléphonait pas comme on le fait aujourd'hui.
Et trois ans...c'est sacrément long pour une mère qui attend son unique fils ,pilote de chasse qui plus est, sillonnant les espaces aériens du Désert de l' Ouest (Libye) et de Grèce.


Huit mois plus tôt, elle avait vu le facteur du village planté à la porte du cottage avec ,à la main,un télégramme couleur chamois et de texture apparemment grossière..
Toutes les femmes, toutes les mères du pays vivaient dans la hantise d'ouvrir à un facteur porteur d'un tel télégramme. Nombreuses même étaient celles qui se refusaient à décacheter l'enveloppe.
Il était carrément au dessus de leurs forces de lire le message lapidaire du Ministère de la Guerre : " Avons le regret de vous informer de la mort de votre mari (ou fils) tué au combat"..

Alors presque toujours , elles laissaient le télégramme sur le meuble d'entrée jusqu'à ce qu'une autre main passe..et l'ouvre à leur place .
Ma mère n'avait pas échappé à cette panique. Elle avait laissé son télégramme de côté, en attendant le retour de l'une de ses filles qui allait rentrer de sa mission quotidienne : la conduite d'un camion.
C'est alors seulement que, côte à côte, elles s'étaient assises sur le canapé: ma soeur avait libéré l'enveloppe ,puis déplié la feuille de papier pour en affronter le contenu. " REGRETTONS DE VOUS AVISER ,disait le message : VOTRE FILS BLESSE, HOSPITALISE A ALEXANDRIE ".
Le soulagement s'avérait à la limite du supportable.

-" Je boirais bien quelque chose " avait suggéré ma mère. La soeur avait sorti du fond du buffet la précieuse bouteille "impossible-à- acheter". L'une comme l'autre avaient ,sur le champ, englouti d'un coup une bonne lampée de gin sec.....]


-------------------------------------Adapté de "Going solo" by "our British Viking !(1986)



Vous avez le coeur serré ..mais d'émotion....cette fois. J'espère que cet extrait vous touchera autant qu'il me touche.(il y a une 2ème partie)

Enjoy translating ,then. See you soon. Your violet.

Correction prévue autour du jeudi 10 Juin .

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 30-05-2009 à 12:31:45 (S | E)
Bonjour all friends : j'attire votre attention sur le fait que j'ai apporté quelques modifications à "mon premier jet".(pour ceux qui l'auraient imprimé). Que cela ne vos empêche pas de vous mettre à vos "plumes"!..Have an excellent sunny Saturday! your violet

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de dolfin56, postée le 31-05-2009 à 12:11:35 (S | E)
Bonjour violet,
Thanks for this new theme.
Comment ne pas ressentir l'inquiétude constante de ces mères dont le ou les fils étaient sur le front, et leur angoisse devant la lettre du facteur: espoir ou détresse totale?

My comeback to home.
-"Hello, it's you Mummy?" I asked.
Straight away,she recognized my voice.A short-lived silence followed, the necessary time to highly-won control the flood of her emotions.

I have been going to the war-front for three years: three years since we hadn't spoken to each other.
At that time,when one or another was standing in a distant country, we didn't phone as we can do nowadays.
And three years, it's an incredibly long time for a mother who is waiting for her only son, a fighter pilot moreover, criss-crossing the air spaces of West desert (Lybia) and Greece.

Eight months earlier, she had seen the postman of the village,standing by the door of the cottage, holding a brown color telegram, and with an obviously coarse texture.All the wives, all the mothers of the country were living dreaded doing to open to a postman bringing such a telegram.The ones who refused to tear open the envelope were very numerous.
It was clearly above their forces to read the war-ministery succinct message: "we regret to inform you that your husband (your son) has been killed on fighting."
So, almost always,they left the telegram on the hall piece of furniture till another hand goes through...and opens the letter for them.
My mother didn't avoid this panic.She had left the telegram aside, waiting for the homecoming of one of her daughters come back from her daily mission: driving a truck.
It was only then, that,side by side, they had sat on the sofa: my sister had torn open the envelope, then unfolded the sheet of paper in order to brave the content: "WE REGRET TO HAVE TO NOTIFY YOU, the message said,YOUR SON,INJURED, SENT TO HOSPITAL TO ALEXANDRIE".
The relief turned out on the verge of what is bearable.

-"I would like to have a drinck", my mother had suggested.The sister had taken out from the back of the sideboard the precious bottle"impossible -to -buy.". Both of them had gobbled up ,right away, a good gulp of dry gin.

Violet, I was told , by my mother, than, in France, deaths were announced by a french policeman (gendarme), and injuries by a telegram...so, you knew, right away,what to stick to !!!!

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de swan85, postée le 31-05-2009 à 19:15:28 (S | E)
Bonjour VIOLET et merci pour ce nouveau sujet très émouvant :

My coming back at home.

Allo! It's you, Mum? " I said.
At once, she recognized my voice. A short-lived silence followed, the time she overcomes the flood of her feelings.

It had been three years I left to the front. Three years we had not spoken to each other.
Before, when the one or the other one was in distant countries we did not phone as we do it nowadays.

And three years...... it's incredibly long for a mother who waits for her unique son fighter pilot and furthermore, criss-crossing the air spaces of the West Desert (Libya) and Greece.
Eight months earlier she had seen the postman of the village just stood to the door of the cottage having in hand a telegram of chamois color and of apparently unrefined texture.

All the women, all the mothers of the country lived in the obsession to open to a postman holding such a telegram. Numerous were the ones who refused to unseal the envelope.
It was clearly too much for them to read the lapidary message of the War ministry « Let us regret to inform you about the death of your husband (or son) killed in the fight.

Then, almost always they left the telegram on the hall console until another hand open it.
My mother had not escaped from this panic. She had left her telegram aside by waiting for the return of one of her daughters who were due to be back from her daily mission : The driving of a truck.
It's only at that time,that, sat on the sofa, side by side, my sister had opened the enveloppe, then unfolded the paper sheet to face the content. » WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU, the message said, YOUR SON INJURED ,ADMITTED TO ALEXANDRIA HOSPITAL.

The relief turned out to be on the edge of what they could bear.
I would indeed drink something, had suggested my mother.
The sister had taken out from the back of the sideboard the precious bottle « impossible- to-buy »
Each one ,had, right away, gobbled up just like that ,a good gulp of dry gin]

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de nina80, postée le 31-05-2009 à 19:42:36 (S | E)
Hello Violet,


Hello, Are you mum? I asked

Immediatly, she recognized my voice. A short silence followed, until, after a hard-fight, she was able to control the flood of her emotions.
It was three years since I had left to the front, three years since we hadn't spoken to each other.
At the time, when someone was in a distant country, we didn't use to phone as we do nowadays. And then, three years are a damned long time for a mother who is waiting for her only son, a fighter-pilot, and what is more, is criss-crossing the air space of west desert (Lybia) and Greece.

Eight months before she had seen the postman of the village, standing at the door of the cottage, with in his hand, a brown and of an apparently coarse texture telegram.

All the women, all the mothers of the country were living with the obsessive fear to open their doors to a postman, bringing such a telegram. Many of them refused to open it. It was absolutely, too much for them to read the succint War-Office message: "We must regretfully inform you that your husband (or son) has been killed in action"

Almost every time they left the telegram on the hall piece of furniture, until someone opens it for them.
My mother wasn't an exception. She had left her telegram aside, waiting for one of her daughters come back home from her daily assignment: driving a truck.
It was only then, that side by side on the sofa, my sister had opened the envelope, unfolded the sheet of paper to face the contain : WE MUST REGRETFULLY INFORM YOU, said the message, YOUR SON WOUNDED,SENT TO HOSPITAL IN ALEXANDRIA.

The relief was scarcely bearable."I would like to drink something" my mother said. My sister had taken out from the back of the cupboard the precious bottle "IMPOSSIBLE A ACHETER". Both gobbled up, at once, quite a good gulp of dry gin.





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Modifié par nina80 le 01-06-2009 10:02

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Modifié par nina80 le 01-06-2009 15:40

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Modifié par nina80 le 02-06-2009 23:30

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de maya92, postée le 01-06-2009 à 16:56:18 (S | E)
Hello Violet,

« Hello, is that you Mum ? » I said
She recognized my voice at once. A brief silence followed, time for her to wrestle with the flood of her emotions
It’d been three years since I left to the front : three years since we did not talk to each other. At that time when one or the other was in a remote country we were not used to phone each other as we do now
And three years…it’s a jolly long time for a mother waiting for his only son, a fighter pilot furthermore, droning to and fro across the air space of the Western Desert (Libya) and Greece
Eight months earlier she saw the village postman standing at her cottage’s door holding a coarse brownish telegram
All the women, all the mothers in the country lived in dread of opening their door to a postman bearing such a telegram. There were many who refused to unseal the envelope.
It was definitely too much for them to read the terse message from the Ministry of Defence : « We regret to inform you of the death of your husband (or son) killed in action ».
So, almost every time, they left the telegram on the table in the entrance until another hand came and opened it.
My mother had not escaped this panic. She had left her telegram out, waiting for her daughter to return home from her daily mission : to drive a lorry
Only then, they had sat down side by side on the sofa, my sister had opened the envelope and unfolded the sheet of paper to face its contents « We regret to advise you, the message said, that your wounded son has been hospitalized in Alexandria »
The relief was hardly bearable
« I could drink something » my mother suggested. My sister had taken out the precious ‘impossible-to buy’ bottle from the bottom of the cupboard. Straight away, both had knocked back a big gulp of dry gin…

Here we are, I've tried hard..very nice hopeful story.. we're eager to know the end - Thank you again Violet

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de eos17, postée le 01-06-2009 à 19:02:41 (S | E)
Hello violet
Un sujet d'un tout autre genre mais combien plus émouvant et dramatique!Je vais essayer de traduire ces émotions .

-Come back at home I

..."Allo!Is it you Mummy ?"I said .
Immediatly,she recognized my voice .A short-lived silence followed - the necessary time to control after a hard fight ,a flood of her feelings .

I went to the frontline three years ago :three years we had not spoken to each other .At that time ,when one or the other was in a distant country,we didn't phone as we do it nowdays .
And three years...It's so long for a mother who is waiting for her only son what's more fight pilot,crisscrossing airspaces of West desert (Lybia) and Greece .
Eight months sooner,she had seen the postman of the village,standing at the door of the cottage with,in his hand,apparently a coarse-textured,buff telegram .
All the women,all the mothers of the country were living with the obsessive fear to open the door to a postman,bearer of a such telegram .Many of them even refused to open the envelope .
It was absolutly impossible for them to read the war-ministery terse message :"are sorry to inform you about your husband's death(or son)killed in the fight "
Then almost always ,they left the telegram on the hall peace of furniture until another hand came...and opened it instead of them .
My mother hadn't escaped from this panic .She had left her telegram aside,expecting that one of her daughters come back from her daily mission :the driving of a truck .
It was only then ,they had sat on the sofa ,side by side :my sister had broken the envelope,then unfolded the paper sheet to face the text ."WE ARE SORRY TO NOTIFY YOUsaid the message YOUR SON INJURED ADMITTED TO ALEXANDRIA HOSPITAL "
The relief was verging bearable .

-"I would like to drink something "said my mother .the sister had taken out of the sideboard the precious bottle "IMPOSSIBLE TO BE BOUGHT "Each one had drunk,at once,bottoms up (sorry!)a good dry gin .
Ce que je vais faire moi aussi mais pas pour les mêmes raisons !
merci chère violet ,bonne soirée .

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 01-06-2009 à 22:45:49 (S | E)
N'oubliez pas de traduire le titre,mes p'tits mignons!..

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de nanette33, postée le 02-06-2009 à 00:35:48 (S | E)
Hello Violet! We are the !

Here's my try :

My return home
"Hello! Is that you, Mummy?" I said.
At once, she recognized my voice. A short-lived silence followed, time for her to control by sheer force the flood of her emotions.

I had gone to the front 3 years ago. 3 years when we had spoken to each other.
At that time, when either was in distant countries, we didn't call as we do nowadays.
And 3 years... it's terribly long for a mother who's waiting for her only son, morover a fight pilot, combing the air spaces of the west Desert (Lybia) and Greece.

8 months earlier, she had seen the postman of the village standing right at the door of the cottage with, in his hand, a buff telegram apparently of a rough texture.

All the women, all the mothers of the country lived dreading to open to the postman bearing such a telegram. There were many who refused to open the envelope.
It was straight beyond them to read the succinct message of the War Ministry : "We have the regret to inform you about death of your husband(or son), killed in the fight".

Then, almost always, they used to leave the telegram on the entrance unit until another hand opens it instead of them.
My mother hadn't escape this panic. She had left her telegram out, waiting for the return of one of her daughters who was coming back from her daily task : truck driving.
Only then, side by side, they sat on the sofa : my sister had released the envelope, then unfolded the sheet to face the content :"WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU, the message said : YOUR SON INJURED, IN HOSPITAL IN ALEXANDRIA".
The relief was bordering on the unacceptable.

"I would indeed drink something" my mother suggested. The sister had got out of the sideboard the precious bottle "impossible-to-buy". Both of them had immediately gulp down at one go a good swig of dry gin...

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de lakata, postée le 03-06-2009 à 17:39:49 (S | E)
Bonjour violet.

Going back home. (I)
( je viens de découvrir "homecoming" dont j'ignorais tout. Merci Ariane !)

[… - «  Hullo ! Is that you, Mum ? » I said.
Immediately, she recognized my voice.Then there was a brief silence, just long enough for her to fight back the flood of her emotions.

It had been three years since I had left to the battlefront : three years -- without speaking / while we hadn't spoken -- to each other.
At that time, when one of us was staying in faraway countries, we used not to telephone as (we do) nowadays.
Moreover, three years, it is incredibly long for a mother waiting for her only son, fighter pilot furthermore, criss-crossing the air spaces of the Western Desert (Libya) and Greece.

Eight months earlier, she had seen the village postman standing on the threshold of the cottage, holding a buff-colored telegram whose texture looked quite rough.
In the whole country, all the wives, all the mothers lived haunted by the fear of opening the door to a postman bringing such a telegram.There were even a lot of them who refused to tear open the envelope. It was just - too much for/beyond - them to read the War Office terse message : «  We regret to inform you of the death of your husband (or son), killed in action. »

So, most of the time, they laid the telegram on a piece of furniture in the hall, leaving it there until an other hand went and opened it instead.

My mother had not remained unaffected by that panic. She had left her telegram aside, waiting for one of their daughters to come back from her daily assignment which consisted of driving lorries.
It was only after that they had sat down side by side on the sofa : my sister had released the envelope then unfolded out the sheet of paper, ready to face its content. «  Sorry to inform you », the message said, « your son wounded, hospitalized in Alexandria. »

The relief proved to be within the limits of what is bearable.

- « I would fancy drinking something », my mother had suggested. My sister had taken out from the back of the sideboard the precious « Impossible-to-be-bought » bottle. Then, both of them had immediately swallowed at one gulp a good swig of dry gin....]

Entre le prétendu "parcours de santé" de taconnet ce matin, et celui du combattant cet après-midi, me voilà "quite exhausted" ! Mais c'est une saine fatigue car j'ai dû beaucoup travailler...Et je t'en remercie !
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Modifié par lakata le 06-06-2009 10:06

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de coferam, postée le 04-06-2009 à 12:02:31 (S | E)
Hello Violet91,

My Comeback to home.

[... " Allo! It is you, Mum? " I say.
At once, she recognized my voice . A silence of short period followed, the time to control the flood of her emotions.

I have been leaving to the front line for three years : three years without speaking at my mother !
In the time, when the one or the other was in of distant countries, we didn't phone as we can do it nowadays.
And three years...it is damn long for a mother who waits for her only son, fighter pilot besides, crossing the air spaces of the Desert of the West (Libya) and Greece.

Eight months earlier, she had seen the postman of the village, stand up ahead the door of the cottage with, by hand, a telegram of color chamois and of apparently unrefined texture...
All the women, all the mothers of the country were living in the dread to open to a postman carrier of such a telegram; Numerous were the mothers who refused to open such a mail.
It was downright above their strengths to read the concise message of the War ministry: " we regret to inform you about the death of your husband (or son ) killed in the fight "..

Then almost always, they left the telegram on the piece of furniture of entrance until another hand passes and opens it in their place .
My mother had not escaped this panic. She had left her telegram aside, waiting for the comeback of one of her daughters of her daily mission : driving a truck.
It is then only that, side by side, they sat on the sofa: my sister had freed the envelope, then unfolded the paper to face the contents. ''" LET US REGRET INFORMING YOU, said the message: YOUR SON IS INJURED, and HOSPITALIZED IN ALEXANDRIA ".
The relief was on the verge of the bearable.

" I would indeed drink something " had suggested my mother. The sister had taken of the bottom of the sideboard the invaluable bottle " Infeasible to buy ". Right away, both had gulped down a good gulp of dry gin. ]

J'ai apprécié le fond et la forme, et je constate, comme toujours, que les femmes / mères sont en première ligne...Ne dit-on pas que c'est la femme qui fait l'homme !

Merci.

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de ariane6, postée le 05-06-2009 à 11:38:28 (S | E)
Bonjour violet !

My homecoming. I.

...-"Hello ! Is that you Mum ?" I asked.
She recognized my voice at once. A short silence followed, as she fought to control the flood of emotions.

It had been three years since I had gone to the war : three years in which we hadn't spoken to each other.

At that time, when one or another was in a distant country, we didn't phone as we do now.
And three years... is a tremendously long time for a mother who is waiting for her only child, moreover a fighter pilot, crossing the airspaces above the Western Desert (Libya) and Greece.

Eight months earlier, she had seen the village postman, standing by the cottage door, holding in his hand a coarse looking, chamois coloured /camel coloured /buff coloured telegram.

All the wives, all the mothers in the country were living in dread of opening the door to a postman delivering such a telegram. And many of them even refused to tear open the envelope.
It was more than they could bear to read the War Ministry's stony message: " We regret to inform you that your husband (your son) has been killed in action."

So, quite often, they left the telegram on the hall stand until someone else's hand picked up the letter and opened it.
My mother had not escaped this panic. She had left the telegram to one side, waiting for one of her daughters to return home, coming back from her daily mission: driving a lorry.
It was only then, side by side, they had sat down on the settee : one of my sisters had torn open the envelope, then unfolded the sheet of paper in order to face the contents. " WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU, the message said, YOUR SON, WOUNDED, SENT TO HOSPITAL IN ALEXANDRIA ".
The relief was just about bearable.

-"I would like to have a drink", my mother had suggested.
From the bottom of the sideboard, the sister had taken out the precious, "impossible to buy" bottle. Both of them had immediatly gulped down, a good mouthful of dry gin....

Merci violet ! ... ce fut laborieux ! Un thème pas facile, grrrrr.... !!!

Lien Internet

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de aud18, postée le 05-06-2009 à 17:54:38 (S | E)
Hi violet, how are you ?! Here's my try...

My homecoming
She immediately recognised my voice. Then followed a short-term silence – just she hardly retained the flood of her emotions.
I went to the front for three years : three years without any news.
At that time, when one or the other was in a distant country, we didn't phone as we do now.
And three years...it's damn long for a mother waiting (/who abides) for her only son, furthermore fighter pilot, travelling air spaces of the Western Desert (Libya) and of Greece.
Eight months earlier, she had seen the village postman standing at the door of the cottage with, in his hand, a cable buff coloured and an apparently rude texture...
All the women, all the mothers of the country lived in dread of opening to a postman messenger of such cable. They were even numerous those who refused to open the envelope.
It was completely too much for them to read the striking message from the War Department : «Regret to inform you the death of your husband (or son) killed in action»...
So most as usual, they kept the telegram on the hall furniture until someone other hand passed and opened it in her place.
My mother hadn't defied that panic. She put the telegram aside, waiting the way back of one of her daughters who was going to return from her everyday mission : the driving of a lorry.
It's only then, side by side, they were sitting on the sofa : my sister had opened the envelope, then unfolded the piece of paper to face the content : «regret to inform you, said the message, your son wounded, hospitalised in Alexandria».
The relief was hardly bearable.
«I'd like drink something» suggested my mother. The sister had taken from the bottom of the buffet the precious bottle «impossible to buy». Both had, right away, drunk all in one time a good gulp of dry gin...

And thanks a lot

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Modifié par aud18 le 08-06-2009 12:49

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de bonsai93, postée le 08-06-2009 à 13:21:00 (S | E)
Et voici mon essai un peu tardif qui attend beaucoup de ton indulgence,il y a des temps de conjugaison à revoir !!!!

My comeback Home
« Hello , Are you there Mum » I asked
She immediately recognized my voice . Then followed a « short-lived-silence » just the time for her to controle with an intensive fight the flood of her emotions

I had been to the frontline three years ago .Three years without speaking to each other .At that time when one or another was in a faraway country we didn't used to call each other as we do nowadays .
And three years .., it's a too long time for a mother who is waiting for her only son , who moreover was a fighterpilot , criss-crossing the air of west desert (Libya ) and Greece;


Eight months earlier , she saw the postman of the village standing in the front of the cottage door, having in his hand , a rather brown with an apparently coarse texture telegram ;
All the women , all the mothers in the country had been living , dreading to open their door to a postman bringing such a telegram .Many of them refused to unseal the envelope
It was absolutely too much for them to read the succint message from the war office « We regret to informe you about the death of your husband (son ) killed during the fight »

Then ,almost always , they used to leave the telegram on the entrance peace of furniture until an other hand come …..and open it for them.

My mother had not escaped this panic . She had left her telegram out , waiting for one of their daughter to come back home from a daily mission : to drive a truck

Then , only after that , they sat down , side by side on the sofa , my sister opened the enveloppe then unfolded out the paper which was in it .  « We regret to advise you said the message your son injured sent to Alexandria Hospital »
The relief was hardly bearable

« I would like to drink something »suggested my mother
The sister get out from the back of the sideboard the « impossible-to-buy » precious bottle .Then , both of them immediately gobbled up a good gulp of dry gin

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Modifié par bonsai93 le 08-06-2009 16:21

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Modifié par bonsai93 le 09-06-2009 09:00

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de intrepid34, postée le 09-06-2009 à 17:50:35 (S | E)
Good afternoon Violet

You thought I had forgotten, didn't you! Not a chance!!! Busy weekend but here's my contribution. Actually, I had a bit of trouble as I found some ambiguity with words - still.....

My Homecoming

...."Hello! Is that you Mummy?" I said.
She immediately recognised my voice. It was followed by a short-lived silence as she struggled to control the flood of emotion.

It had been three years since I'd left for the Front. Three years since we had spoken. In those days there was no telephone to just pick up and dial a loved one in a far off land.

Three years! That's a blessed long time for a mother to wait for her son, a fighter pilot flying the length and breadth of the Western Desert (Libya) and Greece.
Eight months earlier, she'd seen the village postman stop at a cottage to personally deliver a buff coloured telegram with its inane message.

Every wife, every mother around the country lived in dread of opening such a personally delivered telegram. Many even refused to unseal the envelope. It was over and above their strength to read the terse message from the War Office. "We regret to inform you of the death of your husband (or son) killed in action."

So it was nearly always that the envelope was left on the hallway table for someone else to take it and open it. My mother didn't escape this feeling of panic. She left her telegram to one side, waiting for one of her daughters to open it when they returned from their daily missions as truck drivers.

It was then, sitting alongside my sister on the couch, that she sliced open the envelope, unfolded the sheet of paper which read "We regret to advise," said the message "that your son had been hospitalised in Alexandria."
The relief bordered on bearable.

"I could do with somthing to drink." my mother had suggested. Sister brought out that "unprocurable" bottle hidden at the bottom of the sideboard. They both gulped down a good swig of dry gin!

(Good on them - I like mine with tonic water and a slice of lemon but not before the sun is over the yard arm!! - anyone for tennis??)

Mission accomplished!
Intrepid

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de nini59, postée le 10-06-2009 à 00:12:34 (S | E)
Hi Violet

Here is my try.

My Homecoming (I)

[....- "Hello! It's you, Mum?" I asked.

Immediatly, she recognized my voice. A short-lived silence followed, the time she controls the flood of her feelings.
There was three years I left to the Front: Three years since we hadn't spoken to each other.
In that time, when one or another was standing in a distant country we didn't phone as we can do nowadays.
And three years... It's a incredibly long time for a mother who is waiting for her only son, a fighter pilot moreover, criss-crossing the air space of The West Desert (Libya) and Greece.

Eight months ago, she had seen the village's postman standing at the cottage's door, holding a brown colour telegram and with a coarse texture. All the wives, all the mothers of the country were living with the dread to open to a postman holding such a telegram. Several of them refused to unseal the envelope.
It was clearly above of their forces to read the lapidary message of the war ministry: "We regret to inform you that your husband (your son) has been killed on fighting.
So, almost always, she left the telagram on the hall furniture until another hand goes through and opens it.
My mother didn't escape from this panic. She had left the telegram aside, waiting for the return of one of her daughters come back home from her daily assignment: driving a truck.
It was only then, that,side by side, sat on the sofa, my sister unsealed the envelope, then unfolded the sheet of paper to face the content. "WE REGRET TO NOTIFY YOU, the message said, YOUR SON INJURED, HOSPITALIZED IN ALEXANDRIA.
The relief turned out hard to bear.
- "I would like to drink something", my mother had suggested. My sister had taken out from the back of the sideboard the precious bottle, "impossible-to-buy". Both of them had gobbled up, right away, a good gulp of dry gin.

I want to have a thought for these men (like my neighbour)who had come back home hurted in their body and in their mind.
Thanks a lot for this exercise Violet. I'm expecting the second part with impatience.
See you

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violette19, postée le 10-06-2009 à 12:59:58 (S | E)

Hello Violet,
Bonjour à tous,

Un voyage dans le Bordelais et une panne d'internet avec les multiples orages du Limousin ont fait que je poste mon essai bien après les autres .
En tout cas, merci pour ce nouvel exercice, Violet, fort intéressant, là encore .





My comeback home .


“ Hello, it’s you, Mummy ?” I said .
She at once recognized my voice . A short silence followed, long enough for her to struggle for containing her emotions.

Three years ago, I went to the battle front : for three years we had not been speaking one to the other .

At those times, when someone or another was in a remote country, we didn’t call as nowadays .

And three years are really long for a mother waiting for her only son,
moreover a fighter pilot criss-crossing aerial spaces of Western Desert and Greece .

Eight months earlier, she had seen the village postman , standing near the cottage front-door, holding a chamois-coloured apparently rough textured telegram .
Every woman, every mother of the country lived fearing that she would open
the door to a postman bringing such a telegram . They were even many refusing to break open the envelope.
Reading the message “Regret to inform you that your husband (son) has been "killed in action" was straight out too much for them .
So almost always, they left the telegram on the entrance piece of furniture until another hand passed, opened it instead of them .
My mother didn’t escape that panic . She had left her telegram aside, waiting for one of her daughters coming back from her daily mission : driving a lorry .

Only then, side by side, they had sat down on the sofa : my sister had unstuck the envelop, unfolded the sheet for confronting the contents .

"Regret to inform you that your son has been wounded and admitted into Alexandrie Hospital , the message said .”
The relief proved to be hardly bearable .

“I ’d love to drink something” my mother had suggested . The sister had taken the precious “impossible - to - buy” bottle out of the bottom of the sideboard .
They both had swallowed a nice gulp of dry gin .

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de TravisKidd, postée le 10-06-2009 à 16:30:24 (S | E)
[.... - " Hello! It's you, Mom?" I say.
Immediately ,she recognized my voice. There followed a short silence-the time that she controls (of high struggle ) the flood of her emotions.

It had been three years since I left for the front: three years since we had spoken to each other.
At the time ,when one or the other happened to be in a faraway country ,they didn't call on the phone as they do today.
And three years...that's hella long for a mother who's waiting for her only son ,fighter pilot who is besides, patrolling the skies of the Western Desert (Libya) and Greece.



Eight months earlier, she had seen the village postman planted at the door of the cottage with ,in his hand,a chamois-colored telegram with an apparently rough texture..
All the women, all the mothers in the country lived with the dread of opening the door to a postman carrying such a telegram. Many even were those who refused to unseal the envelope.
It was squarely beyond their strength to read the lapidary message from the War Minister: " Regret to inform you of the death of your husband (or son) killed in combat"..

Then almost always , they left the telegram on the entrance table until another hand comes by..and opens it for them .
My mother had not escaped this panic. She had put her telegram aside, waiting for the return of one of her daughters who was going to come back in from her daily mission: driving a truck.
It's only then that, side by side, they sat on the sofa: my sister had freed the envelope ,then unfolded the paper to face the contents. " REGRET TO ADVISE YOU ,said the message: YOUR SON WOUNDED, HOSPITALIZED IN ALEXANDRIA ".
The relief turned out to be as much as one could stand.

-" I was drinking could use something to drink " my mother had suggested. The sister had taken out from the bottom of the dresser the precious "impossible-to- buy" bottle. Each of them had ,right then and there, gulped down in one gulp a nice gulp of dry gin.....]

-------------------
Modifié par TravisKidd le 11-06-2009 02:08
Oops, "boirais" n'est pas de l'imparfait !

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 11-06-2009 à 14:35:17 (S | E)
Bonjour à tous ,dear friends...j'attendais notre petite dernière fleur(!..sur son "poney"peut-être))...qui promet, promet.et n'arrive pas !! I'll be with you "in a minute"!

GRAND merci déjà à tous ces bons et curieux participants! (pas "nosy", curious)

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 11-06-2009 à 19:17:09 (S | E)
Enfin, me voici, me voilà! Désolée...mais la traversée du désert de Libye ..c'est quelque chose!!..


-----------------------My returning home. I.-----------------------------------



[.....- " Hello!" I said. " Is that you, Mamma ?
She knew my voice at once. There was a brief silence on the line as she was struggling hard to get control of her overwhelming emotions.
I had been away at the Front for three years ; three endless years without speaking to each other. In those days, when one or the other was in a far-off country , you (they) did not telephone as you (we) do today. And three years is a damn long time for a mother to wait for her only son, and what is more , a fighter pilot criss-crossing (patrolling) airspaces like Western Desert (Libya) and Greece.

Eight months earlier, she had seen the village postman standing at the cottage door holding a rough buff-coloured telegram in his hand. Every wife , every mother in the country lived in dread of opening the front door to a postman bringing such a telegram. Many of them refused even to unseal the envelope. It was totally beyond their strength to read the terse War Office message : " Regret to inform you of the death of your husband (or son),killed in action."..

Then, on the whole, they would leave the telegram on the hall-stand until somebody else came along and opened it for them ..My mother had not escaped that panic. She put the telegram aside, waiting for one of her daughters to return from her daily stint of driving a lorry.
It was only then they had both sat , side by side, on the sofa : my sister had torn open the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside." REGRET TO ADVISE YOU,the message read, YOUR SON WOUNDED AND IN HOSPITAL IN ALEXANDRIA ."
The relief turned out to be almost unbearable.

" I'd like a drink", my mother had suggested . The sister had got out the precious impossible-to- buy bottle from the bottom of the cupboard. Each of them had gulped down a good stiff slug of neat gin there and then.....]



----------------------------------adapted from " Going solo"(1986) by our famous wing Commander.

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 11-06-2009 à 20:00:01 (S | E)
Bong!....J'y vais...Merci de votre gentille patience!.. Ce texte comme tant d'autres est difficile pour les points de vue, la linguistique. Le mot choisi porte le poids du locuteur ,sa situation, son affectif...Donc, demande plus que jamais à se mettre dans "la peau" du narrateur (ici)mais tout est en flash-back ,(hormis l'entrée du passage)il raconte ce qu'il n'a pas vu..mais qu'on lui a raconté. Traduisons "comme avec une caméra et direction d'acteurs".




1) My returning home :nominalisation de to return. Met donc en valeur le trajet jusqu'à la maison. My homecoming très intéressant aussi focalise, toutefois, sur le résultat et le chez-soi. Tt ce qui se passe de Londres à "Aylesbury",faits ,gestes ,émotions.. après trois ans vont disparaître.
Coming est le rapprochement chaleureux,"going home" serait l'éloignement .
-Sorry,dear travis, mais dans les années 1960.61 (de Gaulle-1958- and "Nato"/OTAN : until in 1966, he announced to Prsdnt Johnson, France withdrew (se retirer) from nato)),des murs étaient souillés de " U.S ! Go home!"."Retournez chez vous!"...personnally we'll invite you and your friends!..France had changed position since 1980...and finally, has joined Nato back since April 3rd 2009.



2 ) Hello!attesté en 1846(GB).Vient du Old High German (XVI):"halâ!".Anglais to hail > héler .A salutation recorded in dictionaries in 1883 / a greeting when answering the phone : credited to Thomas Edison Les "hello-girls" sont "baptisées" en 1889!..

Cela peut servir: Allo/hello/hallo/alû (arabe)/pronto (italien)Moshi-moshi(japonais)wéi(Chinois : hello dear eos!)...



3 ) Mamma (mama): in Norwegian ! (" The remains of those days." Lien Internet
(I can't help it!..) < Mor(mother)).Mum, Mummy, Mom, Mommy,Mother.



- 4) Le point de vue : Il "enclenche "- Is that you mamma?" le fils chéri rêve d'une chose : retrouver sa mère chérie. En Gb : on appelle l'autre qui décroche et est censé "débiter" son n°: O/one/six/nine...(what did you expect ?!!..) chiffre un par un: révisez les donc!) ),puis se présente -"The Queen ,speaking!" for example! "Mummy, speaking!" ..Very close[s ](sifflante) relationship between Mother and son ,here.(almost always,pas vrai? "hein?" ..)



5) At once (d'un coup< one))= straight away (off), right away,immediately.now!...as quick as a wink! = there and then(cf.fin du passage)



6) She knew (*)my voice..and she had known it since his birth as a loving mother.;non seulement elle l'attendait..mais elle la "savait" par coeur!(connaissance "absolue") Unforgettable! Reconnaissable en mille!

Dans "Maman a cent ans" film de Carlos Saura..mère et fils (grand adulte "vieux garçon" et dreamer) dialoguent sans ouvrir la bouche : superbe!

Lien Internet
("te quiero, Fernando"..mais il faudra "couper le cordon!") Voir le film complet pour vérifier ou retrouver ce dont je parle!..




7 ) To struggle ['strgl: combattre (défis personnels "mind struggling with mind" is such a pleasure of intelligence > Edgar Allan Poe "The murders in the Rue Morgue" (draughts players and police/detective): travail; difficultés, maladie,émotions ..soi-disant "timidité"), lutter , se débattre.Avec toujours l'idée de "s'en sortir"to fight (fought, fought): combattre (enemy[' n mi= Ooo].
Les British sont plutôt "introvert" et de temps à autre ils deviennent merveilleusement "extrovert"!(éducation victorienne oblige..et climat?)
- La lutte (sport: le catch): wrestling .
Pas confondre WWF and WWF (World Wildlife Fund)and (World Wrestling federation) Lien Internet


And Have a short look : aren't they nice?!!Lien Internet






8 ) To overwhelm :submerger = the flood of her emotions : flood [](comme l'inondation and THE FLOOD, le Déluge,comme blood # mood []moody (humeur, mal luné)
Lien Internet


-or " Ils sont , nous sommes " in the mood for love"!
Lien Internet
(j'en connais qui en raffolent!)




9) To LEAve (*) quitter, partir, laisser (derrière soi)# to LIve(VIvre): tt de même!.."What a life for a crust ! " (Cockney)
- To take the French leave = filer à l'Anglaise!

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 11-06-2009 à 23:03:34 (S | E)
10 ) Les points de vue! I had been away for ....we had not spoken Trois ans qui duuuuurent. FOR.C'est lui le bon.C'est sans fin...
- Le point de départ (his departure,by the way) It had been three years since I had left.,I had been away..and since we had spoken( bravo, intrepid.;that was tricky).La dernière fois que nous nous étions parlé.Et ce n'est qu'un début ..then "we had not spoken to each other in all that time .
les deux fonctionnent avec le present perfect ou past perfect/ le present perfect continuous (verbes "déroulables", ponctuels,opinions, perceptions,volonté...)or past perfect continuous).

-They had been living apart for three years : ils avaient vécu séparés (chacun de leur côté) pendant 3 ans.

- I have always loved English...since I started it actually.(et cela fait un moment : for years and years ; for ages = il ne faut pas exagérer tout de même!)


11 ) Each other (2),one another (3,4..the whole world!) RECIPROCITE.
" Mama and I embraced each other." (s'enlacer)
" Love one another": "Aimez-vous les uns les autres".
Lien Internet


# us (pr.pers cplt) She sent us an invitation (that) we responded to.



12 )Antériorité dans le passé :pluperfect(actif) Had + P.Passé rég.ou irrég. :They had lived, they had said,they had played, they had won, they had lost.


13 ) In those (éloigné) days # these days (now).A l'époque,en ces temps-là..(at that time, a long time ago, before,in the old days # these days, nowadays, today, now..)


14 ) Another (an other accolé)< pl: others. One or the ['i ] other (commence par une voyelle)[ < Latin : alter].

- Que ceux qui aiment le fantastique (pour Violette.)
Lien Internet
9 mn

---et le savoureux Lien Internet
Jaoui- Bacri 1999


I am sure you will understand I AM fatigued[ f'tgd](this is chic,isn't it?)..and going to have a good night rest. Sweet dreams.Your violet.

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 12-06-2009 à 11:27:13 (S | E)
Bon jour amis..me revoici..

15 ) Traduction du "on" (souvent délicate):
: you si "grande généralité". They (merci, dear travis: ici flash back et hypothèse "in those days one (he or she?) or the other (he or she?) > they.L'auteur a mis "you" car il écrit sa biographie pour nous..mais sans doute d'abord pour ses enfants et petits-enfants (et les youngsters sont "pendus" au téléphone ,non? ou MSN..nowadays). Il ne peut pas mettre "we"..car il n'y avait pas que les British!

Everybody feels concerned , don't they?
(sg) (pl)


16 ) Qui plus est : moreover (en outre : cheers dear ariane)et plus insistant (on the top of it : colloquial) = and what is more
. (C'est le pompon, travis!)


17 ) "A damn long time!": diable,sacré : tout et son contraire. (on peut penser plus vulgaire ,penser ,juste ..B----y!) ."It is killing me!"(= This child is killing me! He is a devil!/ These shoes are killing me!(j'aime bien cette expression!))
Sinon ,mais on diminue la "pénibilité".etl'exaspération:.horribly ,awfully,dreadfully,tremendously.and so on..


18 ) To wait for (the waiting-room):< du verbe français "guetter" donc.
"(Let us) Wait and see!" Shakespeare dixit." Attendons de voir!"(the wait-and-see: l'attentisme! Ho! Ho!)
- You have understood, I expect. (je suppose et j'attends avec espoir)
Lien Internet

" Les grandes espérances".(1860.1861)

19 ) Her only(one) son : Mrs Dahl n'avait qu'un fils. Il avait trois sisters remember..donc il n'était pas enfant unique : her only child. Chacun étant unique ...[ju:'ni:k].;Roald devait bien être un peu "special": "ce je ne sais quoi, ce presque rien "(Vladimir Jankelevitch-1903-1985: philosophe et musicien) en plus ."Ce supplément d'âme".:comme Cézanne" qui a croisé le regard de Dieu"...ou
Lien Internet


20 ) Patrolling= criss-crossing (plus imagé). Flying the length and breath. Over, above... C'est en 1940 que R.Dahl a été gravement blessé (RAF; a wing commander-Squadron 80))) par des "machine-gun-fires" allemands(cela aurait pu être les Italiens). En Libye donc le "Western Desert"[di'zt],en bordure de l'Egypte qu'il fallait protéger de l'invasion."Sauvé" par un fellow pilot,il passera cinq mois sur le Royal Navy Floating Hospital ancré "in Alexandria",puis renvoyé en GB as "invalided".Bien que l'Egypte soit "techniquement neutre", le Caire (Cairo)devint(dès le "début" de la guerre) pour les British une base militaire majeure.

Viendront ensuite Bir Hakeim (1942) et El Alamein(1942)/(8ème armée britannique et l'armée française / The Battle of the Air)

Lien Internet


Lien Internet




and I just can't help adding one of my favourites


Lien Internet


(Cette histoire! cette langue! Cette passion! ce bel Anglais(langue)! Ce beau couple d'Anglais!!..and well-done Juliette who has become bilingual!)

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 12-06-2009 à 12:21:56 (S | E)



21 ) The village postman : nm composé: il n'y a qu'UN facteur dans ce petit endroit.


22 ) The cottage [ 'kti] : après vérification , j'ai choisi de garder le mot anglais : petite maison rurale.: sans doute pas a "thatched cottage" : une chaumière.

Lien Internet
.;and now , you can have a delicious Jersey cream tea,close by.(do you hear me ,ariane? Once in a while.)Cette "Anne"-là était l'épouse de Shakespeare. (Stratford -upon-Avon)

NB: to hatch an egg. couver un oeuf . (comme la "couvade" des hommes qui prennent du poids pendant la grossesse de leur femme !)C'est sur la paille (straw..plutôt que du chaume!!)


23 ) Rough ['rf]: rugueux,grossier. (# a coarse word : un mot grossier) Rough sea.


24 ) Buff(alo)-coloured : le dictionnaire dit "chamois". Buff[b]Lien Internet
Plutôt "crème, ivoire ?)

25 ) Les moeurs ! Hey! Every wife ! (every woman inclut les maîtresses!!).The "fiancées".The girlfriends.
All the(additionnées)..# every + sg ("ensemble fini" : hello,dear .lakata!)
Lien Internet

(je craque!) Besides, Meryl Streep parle alternativement "américain" et pur Anglais (dans ce film).Une "blessed" actress!
accent polonais ("Sophie's choice!)..elle fait ce qu'elle veut! Jeremy Irons : RSC : accent shakespearien! Quel "Anglais"!


26 ) To live in dread (comme dead,head,steady..)vivre dans la terreur, hantise.


27 Many of them ( most of them : la plupart): en fait , rares étaient celles qui osaient ouvrir..


28 ) They refused ['ri'fj sd]= they just WOULD not open it.(modalité de refus)

29 ) To seal # to unseal :comme le sceau du roi(wax: la cire).et les "scellés"(certains "disparaissent") au Tribunal (pas le phoque! A seal.too.Lien Internet

pour nous décontracter)

---Remember :Lien Internet

and more recently Lien Internet


30) Above their strength

31 ) A terse ['ts] telegram abruptly concise .:qui est succinct et fait mal : lapidaire(comme un jet de pierres,travis). Ordre des adj. ou groupe déterminatif déterm. encore + ou -subjectif: cf.previous correction)

32 ) The War Office, the Foreign Office... Le "ministère " de la guerre était une administration à part. C'est maintenant inclus dans la défense.(GB)

33 )To inform, to advise (pas conseiller, ici) to notify.. to let you know..

34 ) Etymology of the word "Husband" = house-bound lié ,attaché 'comme "The Goat of Mr Seguin"et pas le contraire.Lien Internet
allez pourtant trouver "Mr Seguin's goat":mais l'héroïne c'est la chèvre!)
Donc ,le mari (poor him) est attaché affectivement ou "prisonnier"!!Funny for British husbands..not all the same ,you'll tell me! All over the world!..et ne nous plaignons pas!
And the use of:
- -Stop swinging on that chair,child, will you? You are going to break your neck... -BOO-HOO-SNIF! - Look at you! ! On the floor! It was bound to happen! Cela devait t'arriver!!

35 ) Killed in "action" est moins agressif et plus héroïque qu' "au combat".(like a hero)

36 ) They would leave,abandon, drop..: form.fréq.dans le passé = used to.avec modalité de volonté ou de refus.

37 ) The hall-stand : le porte-manteau..et aussi le "guéridon"(a stand), la partie table ou tablette du meuble.

38 )Until= till.Jusqu'à (ce que).Until midnight ( "Cinderella")

39 )Somebody else (who else , what else) : un autre de la série..

40 ) To come along and open it for.//: passer (enfin ) par là...et rendre service .Ouvrir à sa place. Pas "instead" : en "remplacement ,par lâcheté de la première)
- Can you do that for me ? That 'd be nice of you! Tu peux me rendre service ? Can you do me a favour? (pas de dérive!..)

41 ) To escape, to avoid(éviter)..that(passé et rejet) panic

42 ) aside : de côté.

43 ) One daughter (concerned ,here).

43) Driving (nominalisation générale # the driving (de la soeur qui serait spectaculaire ou autre)a lorry (UK),a truck (US)...comme la petite Elizabeth II l'a fait,you know...the one who was and is multi-titled in the British Army .

- British Army Grenadier Guards Colonel 1942 (16 ans)
-captain-in-chief (artillery) 1952
Australian Army Royal Australian Engineers Colonel-in-Chief 1953
New Zealand Army Royal Regiment of New Zealand Artillery Captain-
General 1953
- Lord High Admiral. (Royal Navy) 1964....cela continue par une longue liste (cf).

Alors , on peut en effet s'étonner....sans entrer pour autant dans la polémique..

Lien Internet



44 ) On the sofa,the settee,the couch (like a" couch potato": un "accro-vautré de télé"): le canapé.

45 ) Suivant l'émotion et le "courage" de la soeur : elle ouvre = to tear open déchirer le lien , to slice open (avec un coupe-papier), to open (à votre façon..cela dépend de l'empressement,non?)

46 ) To fold (plier)(folded [fl did] # to unfold: unfolded [n' fldid].


Well!..les p'tits mignons...guess what? la vie, mon piano ...and the rest!.I am getting tired..I'll be with you later.

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de bonsai93, postée le 12-06-2009 à 17:35:14 (S | E)
Violet pour cette nouvelle correction si fournie de détails qui va occuper notre week-end. Je comprends que tu sois "fatigued" alors pense à prendre un peu de repos et profite du soleil qui est annoncé

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 12-06-2009 à 20:16:14 (S | E)
Let us carry on....for those who are still awake !..


47) To face the content(s) Même idée qu'en français : affronter. "Face the danger, the truth.."Not to flee (fled, fled pr cx qui..) : ne pas fuir and react as a coward (couard)(cowardice ['kdis ]
# "L'éloge de la fuite "par Henri Laborit est bien intéressant ..;un voilier qui fait sa route originale en fuyant les voies toutes tracées des tankers...aura la chance de découvrir tel ou tel charmant endroit : la liberté..de ne pas suivre ,comme les moutons de Panurge!

Pour le plaisir et vous éviter de chercher. Comprendre aussi pourquoi certaines consignes me PESENT!

---" Quand il ne peut plus lutter contre le vent et la mer pour poursuivre sa route, il y a deux allures que peut encore prendre le voilier : la cape ( le foc bordé à contre et la bare dessous)le soumet à la dérive du vent et de la mer.....et la fuite devant la tempête en épaulant la lame sur l'arrière avec un minimum de toile. la fuite reste souvent ,loin des côtes, la seule façon de sauver le bateau et son équipage. Elle permet aussi de découvrir des rivages inconnus qui surgiront à l'horizon des calmes retrouvés. Rivages inconnus qu'ignoreront toujours ceux qui ont la chance apparente de pouvoir suivre la route imposée par les cargos et les tankers, sans imprévu, imposée par par les compagnies de transport maritime.
--Vous connaissez sans doute un voilier nommé " Désir"."

Ma correction VEUT se mettre en italique ." Let it be!"


48 ) L'ordre des mots leur donne de la force. Emphase : The death(c'est TOUT ce qui compte) of your husband (or son ) (elles les savaient là-bas).Point de vue..

Example : The wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer was celebrated in St Paul' s Cathedral (exceptional: usually all Royal events take place at Westminster Abbey.;lady Di's funeral, for instance)and watched on television by a milliard of people.

Lien Internet


et le changement de point de vue avec le génitif : emphase sur malheureuse Diana.Lien Internet
des minutes de "people"...Poor Diana! --------- Sorry,Camilla..!



49 )The message [msi ]coucou,dolfin!) read['rd: pret.irreg.) ..il n'est pas "ventriloque!"



50 ) Wounded [" wndid] blessé au combat (skull, backbone and hips) . Injured ['ind]: blessé (physiquement ou moralement = damaged,hurt..)An injury : une blessure # an insult = an affront. R.Dahl was very badly wounded.Le télégramme ne le laissait tout de même pas deviner.


51 ) In hospital (to go to ; he was sent to.)The Royal Navy Floating Hospital

Lien Internet


Film "Taxi for Tobruk "Lien Internet


52 ) A relief (pl.reliefs) ['ri'lf]: un soulagement (v.to relieve:old French))
- This one as well:Lien Internet


53 ) Bearable or unbearable :R.D choisit "unbearable". Le bonheur fait bien pleurer parfois..comme le soulagement.Point de vue.
- To border on; to be at the fringe of; to be within the limits of bearable. Hardly bearable.
-Actually almost unbearable. (Like "The unbearable lightness of being" by Milan Kundera or as an excellent film


54 ) To turn out to be : s'avérer, se révéler ( Lakata!). On ne s'y attendait pas . Extrême.


55 ) "I(d (would) like a drink" : c'est la mère "la chef de famille". Peu habituel qu'une femme boive, surtout in those days in such families. # I fancy a gin tonic..;what about you ? Et si on (se) buvait un gin tonic? L'envie me vient..comme une "lubie". "Un p'tit brin de fantaisie"(hello! dear Ninablue!)

- "Fancy and imagination" (Edgar Allan Poe: creativity).


56 ) To get out : sortir, extirper (ce qui est sans doute caché et obtenu sait-on comment "Impossible-to-buy"..)

57 ) The cupboard ['kd] : le buffet (placard) , the dresser, the sideboard.


58 ) To gulp down (goulée),to swallow down(engoufrer,avaler..) : engloutir.D'un coup "there and then ".


59 ) Neat gin [in] : du gin pur ,net, sans ajout. Il est forcément "dry". No soda water no ice-cubes (et non "cubs", comme lion-cubs: lionceaux) Désolée si je vous ai induits en erreur : pas l'habitude!!...du gin!
Importé de Netherlands. (Hollande: XIV)to England by William III (d'Orange),monarque hollandais sur le trône d'Angleterre.1688.89 (Bloodless revolution). Bill of Rights 1689.
----Le gin est une eau-de-vie venue du genévrier. genever> Genièvre > Gin. Très sec! bu tout seul.."Neat" cela doit être quelque chose! A tomber raide!..De telles occasions.

Lien Internet
Un verre devrait suffire .

... et si certaines ont pensé à juste titre "cul sec" (colloquial: sorry) = Bottoms up (les fonds de verre en l'air , d'un coup)

Lien Internet



..et woilà..je crois avoir fait le tour. Merci de votre patience. Enjoy reading and opening the links...Have a good night,all. (I'll add a few words to each, tomorrow) The next part is really full of sensitiveness and tenderness. See you..

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de nanette33, postée le 12-06-2009 à 23:56:36 (S | E)
Violet! Thank you very much, it was very interesting.

Have a good weekend with a lot of sunshine!

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de intrepid34, postée le 13-06-2009 à 08:18:40 (S | E)
Good morning Violet!

Great correction! My goodness you have been working hard!! I enjoyed the links. A couple of things probably typing errors - maybe too much gin and tonic (don't forget the slice of lemon) late into the night!!
milliard : a billion
thatch - I think you mean "hatch" (for the egg) n'est-ce-pas?
And yes, I am a "Diana" fan and definitely a Jeremy Irons fan too. Isn't he just gorgeous!!! He also played in "Danny, Champion of the World" many years ago!!

Again darling Violet, great correction - I am now looking forward to your next exercise. (with great anticipation!) Have a lovely weekend - good weather here, I may keep the sun umbrella stable today - if there's not too much wind!

Love Intrepid

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de violet91, postée le 13-06-2009 à 13:02:16 (S | E)
Bonjour à tous ,amis and have an excellent sunny Saturday!..

Avant de me re-relire et ajouter une p'tite main à cetaines choses...d'abord vous REMERCIER très chaleureusement d'avoir commencé à "batailler" avec un texte pas évident du tout! Vous êtes 15..et notre peony a dû se perdre avec son poney..(elle me dira "Tout vient à temps à qui sait attendre!"..ce n'est pas ma spécialité!!)

Many thanks to :

dolfin (the first),swan (s'est dépêchée!),ninablue (fidèle à elle-même,avec anecdote, en plus),maya(régulière),eos (solaire qui en a eu chaud),nanette (merci),lakata (au combat),coferam (toujours là),ariane (toujours fine et compétente,merci ,aud (bravo, malgré ses examens),bonsai (courageuse),intrepid (notre anglophone tonique au "gin tonic"),nini59(encore là),violette soror (et ses efforts...pour être à l'heure!)..et "mon"..américanophone Travis arrivé gentiment à temps dont la contribution est précieuse(points de vue).

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de aud18, postée le 13-06-2009 à 13:36:17 (S | E)
Merci encore violet, toujours aussi agréable que de se sentir porté par la traduction de si beaux passages littéraires !
And you, "unstoppable" when you start the explanation...for our delight !
Et les petits liens qui vont avec : le petit plus qui fait tout !
Personnally, I love the two of 14 and cute image from a seal ! I love them !

This extract reminds me the song "Thinking of you" from Katy Perry, you know we find the same topic : war and love. Lien Internet


"The next part is really full of sensitiveness and tenderness" ... a heart warming story,isn't it ?! Are we going to cry next time ?!
Many thanks, for all .

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Réponse: Mon retour à la maison I(Thème) de nina80, postée le 13-06-2009 à 18:41:58 (S | E)
Merci, encore et encore Violet, pour cette éblouissante correction. Maintenant il ne me reste plus qu'à travailler pour assimiler tout ça!

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