Re: Përkthime
Kjo eshte nje pjese vertet interesante e Maupassant, nje tregim i shkurter qe ka elemente shume te bukura. Une kam perkthyer nje pjese, pasi kjo m'u duk mjaft interesante.... por edhe se vetem per kaq pata kohe /pf/images/graemlins/laugh.gif :shrug:
P.S. Me poshte jane te dyja variantet, anglisht dhe shqip. Shpresoj t'ju pelqeje /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif
The Kiss
by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)
(Exerpt)
...My dear, we have in our hands the most terrible power in the world: LOVE.
Man is gifted with physical strength, and he exercises force. Woman is gifted with charm, and she rules with caresses. It is our weapon, formidable and invincible, but we should know how to use it.
Know well that we are the mistresses of the world! To tell the history of Love from the beginning of the world would be to tell the history of man himself: Everything springs from it, the arts, great events, customs, wars, the overthrow of empires.
Therefore we reign supreme, all-powerful. But, like kings, we must make use of delicate diplomacy.
Love, my dear, is made up of imperceptible sensations. We know that it is as strong as death, but also as frail as glass. The slightest shock breaks it, and our power crumbles, and we are never able to raise it again.
We have the power of making ourselves adored, but we lack one tiny thing, the understanding of the various kinds of caresses. In embraces we lose the sentiment of delicacy, while the man over whom we rule remains master of himself, capable of judging the foolishness of certain words. Take care, my dear; that is the defect in our armor. It is our Achilles' heel.
Do you know whence comes our real power? From the kiss, the kiss alone! When we know how to hold out and give up our lips we can become queens.
The kiss is only a preface, however, but a charming preface. More charming than the realization itself. A preface which can always be read over again, whereas one cannot always read over the book.
Yes, the meeting of lips is the most perfect, the most divine sensation given to human beings, the supreme limit of happiness: It is in the kiss alone that one sometimes seems to feel this union of souls after which we strive, the intermingling of hearts, as it were.
Do you remember the verses of Sully-Prudhomme:
Caresses are nothing but anxious bliss,
Vain attempts of love to unite souls through a kiss.
One caress alone gives this deep sensation of two beings welded into one --it is the kiss. No violent delirium of complete possession is worth this trembling approach of the lips, this first moist and fresh contact, and then the long, lingering, motionless rapture.
Therefore, my dear, the kiss is our strongest weapon, but we must take care not to dull it. Do not forget that its value is only relative, purely conventional. It continually changes according to circumstances, the state of expectancy and the ecstasy of the mind
Puthja (Guy De Maupassant)
(Fragment)
...Shpirt, ne mbajme ne duar pushtetin me te tmerrshem te botes: DASHURINE.
Burrit iu dha fuqia fizike dhe ai perdor forcen. Gruas iu dhurua hiri dhe ajo sundon me perkedhelje. Eshte arma jone, e jashtezakonshme dhe e pathyeshme, por duhet te dime si ta perdorim.
Mos harro, ne jemi zonjat e botes! Nese shikon historine e Dashurise qe prej filleses se botes, do te gjesh historine e vete njeriut: Çdo gje shperthen prej saj, artet, ngjarjet e medha, zakonet, lufterat, permbysja e perandorive.
Ne mbreterojme me epersi, te plotpushtetshme. Por, ashtu si mbreterit, na duhet te veme ne pune diplomacine e holle.
Dashuria, zemra ime, mban ndjesi te pakapshme. E dime se eshte po aq e forte sa vete vdekja, por, nga ana tjeter, e brishte si qelqi. Dridhja me e vogel e thyen, fuqia jone behet pluhur e hi dhe ne nuk jemi me kurre ne gjendje ta mekembim.
Ne mbajme fuqine per t’i bere te tjeret te na adhurojne, por na mungon dicka e vogel, kuptimi i llojeve te ndryshme te perkedheljeve. Nder perqafime e humbasin ndjenjen e delikateses, nderkohe qe burri te cilin e sundojme zoteron veten, i afte te gjykoje kotesine e disa fjaleve. Ki kujdes, vogelushe, ajo eshte e krisja ne mburojen tone. Eshte thembra jone e Akilit.
A e di nga buron fuqia jone e vertete? Nga puthja, asgje vecse puthja! Kur mesojme sesi te afrojme dhe dorezojme buzet, ne mund te behemi mbreteresha.
Puthja eshte vetem parathenia, e megjithate nje parathenie qe perpin, me terheqese sesa vete permbajta; nje parathenie qe mund te lexohet e rilexohet, ndersa librit nuk mund t'i shkosh serish deri ne fund.
Po, takimi i buzeve eshte ndjesia me e persosur, me hyjnorja qe u eshte blatuar qenieve njerezore, kufiri i eperm i lumturise: Vetem tek puthja njeriu shpeshhere duket se ndjen kete bashkim shpirtrash pas te cilit pergjerohemi, shkrirja e zemrave ne nje, si njehere e nje kohe.
Te vijne ndermend vargjet e Sully Prudhome? (poet francez – shen. i perkthyesit)
Perkedheljet s’jane vecse gaz dlire
Orvatje e kote e afshit shpirtrat ne nje per t’i shkrire
Vec nje perkedhelje e vetme te mbush me ndjenjen e dy qenieve te bera njesh – kjo eshte puthja. Asnje delir i dhunshem i zoterimit te plote nuk vlen sa afrimi i dridhur i buzeve, njomja e pare, per t’u shnderruar me pas ne ate dalldi te gjate, fergelluese …
Atehere, e vogla ime, puthja eshte arma me e fuqishme qe kemi, por duhet te kujdesemi mos t’ia zvjerdhim forcen. Mos harro qe vlera e saj eshte vetem relative, teresisht konvencionale. Ajo ndryshon sipas rrethanave, gjendjes qe presim dhe ekstazes sw mendjes…
Me vone po vij me kritikat /pf/images/graemlins/tongue.gif /pf/images/graemlins/laugh.gif 
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