Dubliners | Progressive Translation Books for Danish B2 Learners

Dubliners | Progressive Translation Books for Danish B2 Learners

Discover the advantages of this innovative translation method, designed to cater to your learning needs. You can select your preferred difficulty level, ensuring a well-balanced challenge that isn't too overwhelming. This technique sharpens your comprehension skills by encouraging you to derive meaning from context, minimizing the need for direct translations. While some words are purposefully obscured to promote contextual guessing, looking up unclear terms is always an option. With this method, language learning becomes both accessible and enjoyable, blending challenge with support. Explore translated classics and experience the excitement of learning through literature.

THESISTERS
Therewasnohopeforhimthistime:
itwasthethird
slagtilfælde
stroke
.
NightafternightIhadpassedthehouse(itwasvacationtime)andstudiedthelightedsquareofwindow:
andnightafternightIhadfounditlightedinthesameway,faintlyandevenly.
Ifhewasdead,Ithought,IwouldseethereflectionofcandlesonthedarkenedblindforIknewthattwocandlesmustbesetattheheadofa
lig
corpse
.
Hehadoftensaidtome:
“Iamnotlongforthisworld,”andIhadthoughthiswordsidle.
NowIknewtheyweretrue.
EverynightasIgazedupatthewindowIsaidsoftlytomyselftheword
lammelse
paralysis
.
Ithadalwayssounded
mærkeligt
strangely
inmyears,likethewordgnomonintheEuclidandthewordsimonyintheCatechism.
Butnowitsoundedtomelikethenameofsomemaleficentandsinfulbeing.
Itfilledmewithfear,andyetIlongedtobe
tættere
nearer
toitandtolookuponits
dødelige
deadly
work.
OldCotterwassittingatthefire,smoking,whenIcamedownstairsto
aftensmad
supper
.
Whilemyauntwasladlingoutmystirabouthesaid,asifreturningtosomeformer
bemærkning
remark
ofhis:.
“No,Iwouldn’tsayhewasexactly...
buttherewassomethingqueer...
therewassomethinguncannyabouthim.
I’lltellyoumyopinion....”
Hebegantopuffathis
pibe
pipe
,nodoubtarranginghisopinioninhismind.
Trættende
Tiresome
oldfool!
Whenweknewhimfirstheusedtoberatherinteresting,talkingoffaintsandworms;
butIsoongrewtiredofhimandhis
endeløse
endless
storiesaboutthedistillery.
“Ihavemyowntheoryaboutit,”hesaid.
“Ithinkitwasoneofthose...
peculiarcases....
Butit’shardtosay....”
Hebegantopuffagainathis
pibe
pipe
withoutgivingushistheory.
Myunclesawme
stirre
staring
andsaidtome:.
“Well,soyouroldfriendisgone,you’llbesorrytohear.”
“Who?”
saidI.
“FatherFlynn.”
“Ishedead?”
“MrCotterherehasjusttoldus.
Hewaspassingbythehouse.”
IknewthatIwasunder
observation
observation
soIcontinuedeatingasifthenewshadnotinterestedme.
MyuncleexplainedtooldCotter.
“Theyoungsterandheweregreatfriends.
Theoldchaptaughthimagreatdeal,mindyou;
andtheysayhehadagreatwishforhim.”
“Godhavemercyonhissoul,”saidmyauntpiously.
OldCotterlookedatmeforawhile.
Ifeltthathislittlebeadyblackeyeswere
undersøgte
examining
mebutIwouldnot
tilfredsstille
satisfy
himbylookingupfrommyplate.
Hereturnedtohis
pibe
pipe
andfinallyspatrudelyintothegrate.
“Iwouldn’tlikechildrenofmine,”hesaid,“tohavetoomuchtosaytoamanlikethat.”
“Howdoyoumean,MrCotter?”
askedmyaunt.
“WhatImeanis,”saidoldCotter,“it’sbadforchildren.
Myideais:
letayoung
dreng
lad
runaboutandplaywithyoungladsofhisownageandnotbe....
AmIright,Jack?”
“That’smyprinciple,too,”saidmyuncle.
“Lethimlearntoboxhiscorner.
That’swhatI’malwayssayingtothatRosicrucianthere:
takeexercise.
Why,whenIwasanippereverymorningofmylifeIhadacoldbath,winterandsummer.
Andthat’swhatstandstomenow.
Educationisallveryfineandlarge....
MrCottermighttakeapickofthatlegmutton,”headdedtomyaunt.
“No,no,notforme,”saidoldCotter.
Myauntbroughtthedishfromthesafeandputitonthetable.
“Butwhydoyouthinkit’snotgoodforchildren,MrCotter?”
sheasked.
“It’sbadforchildren,”saidoldCotter,“becausetheirmindsaresoimpressionable.
Whenchildrenseethingslikethat,youknow,ithasaneffect....”
IcrammedmymouthwithstiraboutforfearImightgiveutterancetomyanger.
Trættende
Tiresome
oldred-nosedimbecile!
ItwaslatewhenIfellasleep.
ThoughIwasangrywitholdCotterforalludingtomeasachild,Ipuzzledmyheadto
udtrække
extract
meaningfromhisunfinishedsentences.
InthedarkofmyroomIimaginedthatIsawagaintheheavy
grå
grey
faceoftheparalytic.
IdrewtheblanketsovermyheadandtriedtothinkofChristmas.
Butthe
grå
grey
facestillfollowedme.
Itmurmured;
andIunderstoodthatitdesiredto
tilstå
confess
something.
Ifeltmysoulrecedingintosomepleasantand
ondskabsfulde
vicious
region;
andthereagainIfounditwaitingforme.
Itbeganto
bekende
confess
tomeinamurmuringvoiceandIwonderedwhyitsmiledcontinuallyandwhythelipsweresomoistwithspittle.
ButthenIrememberedthatithaddiedof
lammelse
paralysis
andIfeltthatItoowassmilingfeeblyasiftoabsolvethesimoniacofhissin.
ThenextmorningafterbreakfastIwentdowntolookatthelittlehouseinGreatBritainStreet.
Itwasanunassumingshop,
registreret
registered
underthevaguenameofDrapery.
Thedraperyconsisted
hovedsagelig
mainly
ofchildren’sbooteesandumbrellas;
andonordinarydaysanoticeusedtohanginthewindow,saying:
UmbrellasRe-covered.
Nonoticewas
synlig
visible
nowfortheshutterswereup.
Acrape
buket
bouquet
wastiedtothedoor-knockerwith
bånd
ribbon
.
Twopoorwomenandatelegramboywerereadingthecardpinnedonthecrape.
Ialsoapproachedandread:.
Juli
July
1st,1895TheRev.JamesFlynn(formerlyofS.Catherine’sChurch,MeathStreet),agedsixty-fiveyears.R.I.P.
ThereadingofthecardpersuadedmethathewasdeadandIwasdisturbedtofindmyselfatcheck.
HadhenotbeendeadIwouldhavegoneintothelittledarkroombehindtheshoptofindhimsittinginhisarm-chairbythefire,nearlysmotheredinhisgreat-coat.
Perhapsmyauntwouldhavegivenmea
pakke
packet
ofHighToastforhimandthispresentwouldhaverousedhimfromhisstupefieddoze.
ItwasalwaysIwhoemptiedthepacketintohisblacksnuff-boxforhishands
rystede
trembled
toomuchtoallowhimtodothiswithout
spilde
spilling
halfthesnuffaboutthefloor.
Evenasheraisedhislargetremblinghandtohisnoselittlecloudsofsmokedribbledthroughhisfingersoverthefrontofhiscoat.
Itmayhavebeentheseconstantshowersofsnuffwhichgavehisancientpriestlygarmentstheirgreenfadedlookforthered
lommetørklæde
handkerchief
,blackened,asitalwayswas,withthesnuff-stainsofaweek,withwhichhetriedtobrushawaythefallengrains,wasquiteinefficacious.
IwishedtogoinandlookathimbutIhadnotthecouragetoknock.
Iwalkedawayslowlyalongthe
solrige
sunny
sideofthestreet,readingallthe
teatralske
theatrical
advertisementsintheshop-windowsasIwent.
IfounditstrangethatneitherInorthedayseemedinamourningmoodandIfelteven
irriteret
annoyed
atdiscoveringinmyselfa
følelse
sensation
offreedomasifIhadbeenfreedfromsomethingbyhisdeath.
Iwonderedatthisfor,asmyunclehadsaidthenightbefore,hehadtaughtmeagreatdeal.
HehadstudiedintheIrishcollegeinRomeandhehadtaughtmeto
udtale
pronounce
Latinproperly.
HehadtoldmestoriesaboutthecatacombsandaboutNapoleonBonaparte,andhehadexplainedtomethemeaningofthedifferentceremoniesoftheMassandofthedifferentvestmentswornbythepriest.
Sometimeshehadamusedhimselfbyputtingdifficultquestionstome,askingmewhatoneshoulddoincertaincircumstancesorwhethersuchandsuchsinswere
dødelige
mortal
orvenialoronlyimperfections.
Hisquestionsshowedmehow
komplekse
complex
andmysteriouswerecertaininstitutionsoftheChurchwhichIhadalwaysregardedasthesimplestacts.
ThedutiesofthepriesttowardstheEucharistandtowardsthesecrecyoftheconfessionalseemedsogravetomethatIwonderedhowanybodyhadeverfoundinhimselfthecourageto
påtage sig
undertake
them;
andIwasnotsurprisedwhenhetoldmethatthefathersoftheChurchhadwrittenbooksasthickasthePostOfficeDirectoryandas
nøje
closely
printedasthelawnoticesinthenewspaper,elucidatingalltheseintricatequestions.
OftenwhenIthoughtofthisIcouldmakenoansweroronlyaveryfoolishandhaltingoneuponwhichheusedtosmileand
nikke
nod
hisheadtwiceorthrice.
SometimesheusedtoputmethroughtheresponsesoftheMasswhichhehadmademelearnbyheart;
and,asIpattered,heusedtosmilepensivelyand
nikke
nod
hishead,nowandthenpushinghuge
klemmer
pinches
ofsnuffupeachnostrilalternately.
Whenhesmiledheusedto
afsløre
uncover
hisbigdiscolouredteethandlethistonguelieuponhislowerlip—a
vane
habit
whichhadmademefeel
urolig
uneasy
inthebeginningofour
bekendtskab
acquaintance
beforeIknewhimwell.
AsIwalkedalonginthesunIrememberedoldCotter’swordsandtriedtorememberwhathadhappenedafterwardsinthedream.
IrememberedthatIhadnoticedlong
fløjl
velvet
curtainsandaswinging
lampe
lamp
ofantiquefashion.
IfeltthatIhadbeenveryfaraway,insomelandwherethecustomswerestrange—inPersia,Ithought....
ButIcouldnotremembertheendofthedream.
Intheeveningmyaunttookmewithhertovisitthehouseofmourning.
Itwasafter
solnedgang
sunset
;
butthewindow-panesofthehousesthatlookedtothewest
afspejlede
reflected
thetawnygoldofagreatbankofclouds.
Nanniereceivedusinthehall;
and,asitwouldhavebeenunseemlytohaveshoutedather,myauntshookhandswithherforall.
Theoldwomanpointedupwardsinterrogativelyand,onmyaunt’s
nikkede
nodding
,proceededtotoilupthe
smalle
narrow
staircasebeforeus,herbowedheadbeing
knap nok
scarcely
abovethelevelofthebanister-rail.
Atthefirstlandingshestoppedandbeckonedusforwardencouraginglytowardstheopendoorofthedead-room.
Myauntwentinandtheoldwoman,seeingthatI
tøvede
hesitated
toenter,begantobeckontomeagainrepeatedlywithherhand.
Iwentinontiptoe.
Theroomthroughthelaceendoftheblindwassuffusedwithduskygoldenlight
midt
amid
whichthecandleslookedlike
bleg
pale
thinflames.
Hehadbeencoffined.
Nanniegavetheleadandwethree
knælede
knelt
downatthefootofthebed.
IpretendedtopraybutIcouldnotgathermythoughtsbecausetheoldwoman’smutterings
distraherede
distracted
me.
Inoticedhowclumsilyher
nederdel
skirt
washookedatthebackandhowtheheelsofherclothbootsweretroddendownalltooneside.
Thefancycametomethattheoldpriestwassmilingashelaythereinhis
kiste
coffin
.
Butno.WhenweroseandwentuptotheheadofthebedIsawthathewasnotsmiling.
Therehelay,solemnandcopious,vestedasforthe
alteret
altar
,hislargehandsloosely
fastholde
retaining
achalice.
Hisfacewasverytruculent,
grå
grey
andmassive,withblackcavernousnostrilsandcircledbyascantywhite
pels
fur
.
Therewasaheavyodourintheroom—theflowers.
Weblessedourselvesandcameaway.
InthelittleroomdownstairswefoundElizaseatedinhisarm-chairinstate.
IgropedmywaytowardsmyusualchairinthecornerwhileNanniewenttothesideboardandbroughtoutadecanterofsherryandsomewine-glasses.
Shesettheseonthetableandinvitedustotakealittleglassofwine.
Then,athersister’sbidding,shefilledoutthesherryintotheglassesandpassedthemtous.
ShepressedmetotakesomecreamcrackersalsobutIdeclinedbecauseIthoughtIwouldmaketoomuchnoiseeatingthem.
Sheseemedtobesomewhatdisappointedatmy
afslag
refusal
andwentoverquietlytothe
sofaen
sofa
whereshesatdownbehindhersister.
Noonespoke:
weall
stirrede
gazed
attheemptyfireplace.
MyauntwaiteduntilEliza
sukkede
sighed
andthensaid:.
“Ah,well,he’sgonetoabetterworld.”
Eliza
sukkede
sighed
againandbowedherheadinassent.
Myauntfingeredthestemofherwine-glassbeforesippingalittle.
“Didhe...
peacefully?”
sheasked.
“Oh,quite
fredeligt
peacefully
,ma’am,”saidEliza.
“Youcouldn’ttellwhenthebreathwentoutofhim.
Hehadabeautifuldeath,Godbepraised.”
“Andeverything...?”
“FatherO’RourkewasinwithhimaTuesdayandanointedhimandpreparedhimandall.”
“Heknewthen?”
“Hewasquiteresigned.”
“Helooksquiteresigned,”saidmyaunt.
“That’swhatthewomanwehadintowashhimsaid.
Shesaidhejustlookedasifhewasasleep,helookedthat
fredelig
peaceful
andresigned.
Noonewouldthinkhe’dmakesuchabeautifulcorpse.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidmyaunt.
Shesippedalittlemorefromherglassandsaid:.
“Well,MissFlynn,atanyrateitmustbeagreat
trøst
comfort
foryoutoknowthatyoudidallyoucouldforhim.
Youwerebothverykindtohim,Imustsay.”
Elizasmoothedherdressoverherknees.
“Ah,poorJames!”
shesaid.
“Godknowswedoneallwecould,aspoorasweare—wewouldn’tseehimwantanythingwhilehewasinit.”
Nanniehadleanedherheadagainstthesofa-pillowandseemedabouttofallasleep.
“There’spoorNannie,”saidEliza,lookingather,“she’sworeout.
Alltheworkwehad,sheandme,gettinginthewomantowashhimandthenlayinghimoutandthenthe
kisten
coffin
andthenarrangingabouttheMassinthechapel.
OnlyforFatherO’RourkeIdon’tknowwhatwe’dhavedoneatall.
ItwashimbroughtusallthemflowersandthemtwocandlesticksoutofthechapelandwroteoutthenoticefortheFreeman’sGeneralandtookchargeofallthepapersforthecemeteryandpoorJames’sinsurance.”
“Wasn’tthatgoodofhim?”
saidmyaunt.
Elizaclosedhereyesandshookherheadslowly.
“Ah,there’snofriendsliketheoldfriends,”shesaid,“whenallissaidanddone,nofriendsthatabodycantrust.”
“Indeed,that’strue,”saidmyaunt.
“AndI’msurenowthathe’sgonetohis
evige
eternal
rewardhewon’tforgetyouandallyour
venlighed
kindness
tohim.”
“Ah,poorJames!”
saidEliza.
“Hewasnogreattroubletous.
Youwouldn’thearhiminthehouseanymorethannow.
Still,Iknowhe’sgoneandalltothat....”
“It’swhenit’salloverthatyou’llmisshim,”saidmyaunt.
“Iknowthat,”saidEliza.
“Iwon’tbebringinghiminhiscupofbeef-teaanymore,noryou,ma’am,sendinghimhis
snus
snuff
.
Ah,poorJames!”
Shestopped,asifshewerecommuningwiththepastandthensaidshrewdly:.
“Mindyou,Inoticedtherewassomethingqueercomingoverhimlatterly.
WheneverI’dbringinhissouptohimthereI’dfindhimwithhisbreviaryfallentothefloor,lyingbackinthechairandhismouthopen.”
Shelaidafingeragainsthernoseandfrowned:
thenshecontinued:.
“Butstillandallhekeptonsayingthatbeforethesummerwasoverhe’dgooutforadriveonefinedayjusttoseetheoldhouseagainwherewewereallborndowninIrishtownandtakemeandNanniewithhim.
Ifwecouldonlygetoneofthemnew-fangledcarriagesthatmakesnonoisethatFatherO’Rourketoldhimabout,themwiththerheumaticwheels,forthedaycheap—hesaid,atJohnnyRush’soverthewaythereanddriveoutthethreeofustogetherofaSundayevening.
Hehadhismindsetonthat....
PoorJames!”
“TheLordhavemercyonhissoul!”
saidmyaunt.
Elizatookouther
lommetørklæde
handkerchief
andwipedhereyeswithit.
Thensheputitbackagaininherpocketand
stirrede
gazed
intotheemptygrateforsometimewithoutspeaking.