Sunday 9 February 2014

AS EVERY NIGHT

As every night, for the last two years, Flint came silently into Laurie's bedroom.

As every night, for the last two years, Flint knelt by Laurie's head and smelled the perfume of her hair.

As every night, for the last two years, Flint murmured on Laurie's ear how much he loved her.

As every night, for the last two years, Flint repeated the sweetest words he knew to surround Laurie's dreams.

As every night, for the last two years, Flint swore eternal love to Laurie.

As every night, for the last two years, Flint left Laurie's room on tiptoe before dawn.

As every morning, for the last two years, Laurie woke up smiling and remembering the love dream she had every night.

As every morning, for the last two years, Laurie hugged tightly her pillow and told it: "Thank you, my pillow; thank you for the dreams you make me dream every night. The seller was right when he made me sure you'd make me really happy every night".


Frantz Ferentz, 2014

Thursday 6 February 2014

THE LITTLE GREAT MAN


    I met Antonino on the net. He was one of the many fellows I had met along the years. In many cases I had tried to settle a serious relationship with some of them, but it had always been unsuccessful. Instead, Antonino looked quite an interesting person, his likes and my likes were quite similar, so I thought we could get along well. Why not to try?, I thought.
    We got a date on a cloudy day. I myself chose the place for the meeting. It was a classic cafe by the harbour. A nice place I liked. I had thought he could have cheated as for his profile picture, as many other people do, but fortunately he hadn't. I recognised him as soon as he came through the door. However, he was much shorter than I had imagined. I am some 1,70 metres tall, but he was around 1,55 m. tall. I didn't like it, but I couldn't get away immediately, so I decided to spend the rest of the evening with him.
    Despite my initial prejudices, I found Antonino even much more amazing than I had expected. After having a coffee together, he suggested we should have dinner somewhere else. He knew a Japanese restaurant on the other side of the harbour. I accepted willingly, since I was really enjoying myself.
    As we were leaving the cafe, it began to rain, but rather than rain, it seemed a deluge. Antonino's reaction was then unexpected. He set to swear in a quite unpleasant way. He refused to leave the cafe threshold.
    "Don't worry, I've got an umbrella", I said trying to calm him down.
    "That's no guarantee I won't get wet", he insisted, his tone even more unpleasant.
    Anyway I kept on insisting to make for the Japanese restaurant. Antonino would probably realize he was transmitting quite a negative impression of himself, so he accepted my offer and walked by me under the umbrella. But he couldn't avoid getting wet, which made him grudge the whole way until the restaurant. When we were inside, he rushed into the bathroom to get dry. Later he joined me at the table. He was changed... someway. I couldn't say how he was different, but he was. He took a seat in front of me and began to read the menu. Suddenly I realized how he was different. He was shorter then, maybe some five centimetres. Then I understood why he was so furious with the rain, which he avoided at all costs; the water had a strange effect upon him: whenever he got wet, he shrank, like a woolen pullover.

Frantz Ferentz, 2014

Sunday 2 February 2014

A LETTER FROM A TRANSLATOR TO HIS PUBLISHER


Dear Publisher,

Attached you will find my file containing the Spanish version of your book. I'm finally done with the translation you asked me for, though I could nearly say the translation was done with me. I am aware my life has shortened after this translation, and please, don't take it as if I were blowing up this situation, it is absolutely true, my doctor has just confirmed it to me. During the long month I've been translating this indescribable text, I've experienced things no other translator would ever imagine. To start with, I will mention that the ghost of the painter whose life I was translating contacted me himself. He felt so sorry for me as I was fighting against that text, that he suddenly turned up in the middle of my studio. He said he didn't intend to scare me, but he was sure that an apparition of his would never cause me a stronger shock than the translation I was performing. He was right, there are different degrees of horror. Anyway, since that moment on, he communicated with me by chat, which is much calmer, just to give me pieces of advice about the meaning of his pictures. But that's not all I had to suffer. Since the language used by the text's author was so "original" and I couldn't stop looking up for info on Google, the Google Translator ran out of service. The firm called me, they intended to report me to the Interpol; they affirmed I had spoiled I don't know what megacomputer of theirs, given to the large amount of information concerning a non-existing language I sent to it... Well, the thing is still there, I don't know how it will end up, but in case of a trial, your publishing house will have to solve it, as I was working for you when the events took place. Anyway, not everything is so negative. Apart from Google, the NY University got in touch with me. The Linguistics Department was also interested in that new language, which resulted from a combination of the author's knowledge of archaic (almost medieval) Austrian German, sleepless nights wet in alcohol and "creative technology"; the language is reportedly suitable for films about aliens, as if it were a kind of new Klingon. Furthermore, I've even been whispered that the Swedish Academy is planning to create the Nobel Prize of Translation, whose first winner would be me.

As you can see, my dear Publisher, after I've finished the translation, I am a completely different person. And I mean it literally: a completely different person, I'm no longer myself and that's why my wife has abandoned me. Therefore, I beg you to reconsider the fare you initially offered me for this work. It's quite unfair such a short amount of money for such a lethal text that will be soon part of the History of Humankind.

Warm regards

Frantz Ferentz, 2014