Dubliners | Progressively Translated Portuguese A2 Books

Dubliners | Progressively Translated Portuguese A2 Books

Experience the benefits of this forward-thinking translation strategy that tailors language learning to your specific needs. You have control over the difficulty, which ensures that the content is neither too easy nor overly challenging. This method enhances your ability to understand new words through context, reducing reliance on direct translations. While the translations are subtly obscured to foster learning, you can still look up unclear terms. This balanced approach makes language acquisition smoother and more enjoyable. Delve into these translated literary works and discover the satisfaction of mastering a language through reading.

THESISTERS
Therewasnohopeforhimthistime:
itwasthe
terceiro
third
stroke.
NightafternightIhadpassedthehouse(itwasvacationtime)and
estudou
studied
thelightedsquareof
janela
window
:
andnightafternightIhadfounditlightedinthesameway,faintlyandevenly.
Ifhewasdead,Ithought,Iwouldseethereflectionofcandlesonthedarkened
cego
blind
forIknewthattwocandlesmustbesetattheheadofacorpse.
Hehadoftensaidtome:
“Iamnotlongforthisworld,”andIhadthoughthiswordsidle.
NowIknewtheyweretrue.
EverynightasIgazedupatthe
janela
window
Isaidsoftlytomyselfthewordparalysis.
Ithadalwayssoundedstrangelyinmyears,likethewordgnomonintheEuclidandthewordsimonyintheCatechism.
Butnowitsoundedtomelikethenameofsomemaleficentandsinfulbeing.
Itfilledmewith
medo
fear
,andyetIlongedtobenearertoitandtolookuponitsdeadlywork.
OldCotterwassittingatthefire,
fumar
smoking
,whenIcamedownstairstosupper.
Whilemy
tia
aunt
wasladlingoutmystirabouthesaid,asifreturningtosomeformerremarkofhis:.
“No,Iwouldn’tsayhewasexactly...
buttherewassomethingqueer...
therewassomethinguncannyabouthim.
I’lltellyoumyopinion....”
He
começou
began
topuffathispipe,no
dúvida
doubt
arranginghisopinioninhismind.
Tiresomeoldfool!
Whenweknewhimfirstheusedtobe
bastante
rather
interesting,talkingoffaintsandworms;
butIsoongrewtiredofhimandhisendlessstoriesaboutthedistillery.
“Ihavemyowntheoryaboutit,”hesaid.
“Ithinkitwasoneofthose...
peculiarcases....
Butit’shardtosay....”
He
começou
began
topuffagainathispipewithoutgivingushistheory.
Myunclesawmestaringandsaidtome:.
“Well,soyouroldfriendisgone,you’llbesorrytohear.”
“Who?”
saidI.
“FatherFlynn.”
“Ishedead?”
“MrCotterherehasjusttoldus.
Hewas
passando
passing
bythehouse.”
IknewthatIwasunderobservationsoI
continuei
continued
eatingasifthenewshadnotinterestedme.
Myuncle
explicou
explained
tooldCotter.
“Theyoungsterandheweregreatfriends.
Theoldchap
ensinou
taught
himagreatdeal,mindyou;
andtheysayhehadagreatwishforhim.”
“Godhavemercyonhissoul,”saidmy
tia
aunt
piously.
OldCotterlookedatmeforawhile.
IfeltthathislittlebeadyblackeyeswereexaminingmebutIwouldnotsatisfyhimbylookingupfrommyplate.
Hereturnedtohispipeand
finalmente
finally
spatrudelyintothegrate.
“Iwouldn’tlikechildrenofmine,”hesaid,“tohavetoomuchtosaytoamanlikethat.”
“Howdoyoumean,MrCotter?”
askedmy
tia
aunt
.
“WhatImeanis,”saidoldCotter,“it’sbadforchildren.
Myideais:
letayoungladrunaboutandplaywithyoungladsofhisown
idade
age
andnotbe....
AmIright,Jack?”
“That’smyprinciple,too,”saidmyuncle.
“Lethim
aprender
learn
toboxhiscorner.
That’swhatI’malwayssayingtothatRosicrucianthere:
takeexercise.
Why,whenIwasanippereverymorningofmylifeIhadacoldbath,winterand
verão
summer
.
Andthat’swhatstandstomenow.
Educationisallveryfineand
grande
large...
.
MrCottermighttakeapickofthat
perna
leg
mutton,”headdedtomy
tia
aunt
.
“No,no,notforme,”saidoldCotter.
My
tia
aunt
broughtthedishfromthesafeandputitonthe
mesa
table
.
“Butwhydoyouthinkit’snotgoodforchildren,MrCotter?”
sheasked.
“It’sbadforchildren,”saidoldCotter,“becausetheirmindsaresoimpressionable.
Whenchildrenseethingslikethat,youknow,ithasaneffect....”
Icrammedmy
boca
mouth
withstiraboutforfearImightgiveutterancetomyanger.
Tiresomeoldred-nosedimbecile!
ItwaslatewhenIfellasleep.
ThoughIwas
zangado
angry
witholdCotterforalludingtomeasachild,Ipuzzledmyheadtoextractmeaningfromhisunfinishedsentences.
Inthe
escuro
dark
ofmyroomI
imaginei
imagined
thatIsawagainthe
pesado
heavy
greyfaceoftheparalytic.
Idrewtheblanketsovermyheadandtriedtothinkof
Natal
Christmas
.
Butthegreyfacestillfollowedme.
Itmurmured;
andIunderstoodthatitdesiredtoconfesssomething.
Ifeltmy
alma
soul
recedingintosomepleasantandviciousregion;
andthereagainIfounditwaitingforme.
It
começou
began
toconfesstomeinamurmuring
voz
voice
andIwonderedwhyit
sorria
smiled
continuallyandwhythelipsweresomoistwithspittle.
ButthenIrememberedthatithaddiedofparalysisandIfeltthatItoowas
sorrindo
smiling
feeblyasiftoabsolvethesimoniacofhissin.
Thenextmorningafter
almoço
breakfast
IwentdowntolookatthelittlehouseinGreatBritainStreet.
Itwasanunassuming
loja
shop
,registeredunderthevaguenameofDrapery.
Thedraperyconsistedmainlyofchildren’sbooteesandumbrellas;
andonordinarydaysanoticeusedtohanginthe
janela
window
,saying:
UmbrellasRe-covered.
No
aviso
notice
wasvisiblenowfortheshutterswereup.
Acrapebouquetwastiedtothedoor-knockerwithribbon.
Twopoorwomenandatelegramboywerereadingthe
cartão
card
pinnedonthecrape.
Ialsoapproachedandread:.
July1st,1895TheRev.JamesFlynn(formerlyofS.Catherine’s
Igreja
Church
,MeathStreet),agedsixty-fiveyears.R.I.P.
Thereadingofthe
cartão
card
persuadedmethathewasdeadandIwasdisturbedtofindmyselfatcheck.
HadhenotbeendeadIwouldhavegoneintothelittledarkroombehindthe
loja
shop
tofindhimsittinginhisarm-chairbythefire,nearlysmotheredinhisgreat-coat.
Perhapsmy
tia
aunt
wouldhavegivenmeapacketofHighToastforhimandthis
presente
present
wouldhaverousedhimfromhisstupefieddoze.
ItwasalwaysIwho
esvaziou
emptied
thepacketintohisblacksnuff-boxforhishandstrembledtoomuchto
permitir
allow
himtodothiswithoutspillinghalfthesnuffaboutthe
chão
floor
.
Evenasheraisedhis
grande
large
tremblinghandtohis
nariz
nose
littlecloudsofsmokedribbledthroughhisfingersoverthefrontofhiscoat.
Itmayhavebeentheseconstantshowersofsnuffwhichgavehisancientpriestlygarmentstheir
verde
green
fadedlookfortheredhandkerchief,blackened,asitalwayswas,withthesnuff-stainsofaweek,withwhichhetriedtobrushawaythefallengrains,wasquiteinefficacious.
IwishedtogoinandlookathimbutIhadnotthecourageto
bater
knock
.
Iwalkedawayslowlyalongthesunnysideofthestreet,readingallthetheatricaladvertisementsintheshop-windowsasIwent.
Ifoundit
estranho
strange
thatneitherInortheday
parecesse
seemed
inamourningmoodandIfeltevenannoyedatdiscoveringinmyselfasensationoffreedomasifIhadbeenfreedfromsomethingbyhisdeath.
Iwonderedatthisfor,asmyunclehadsaidthenightbefore,hehadtaughtmeagreatdeal.
HehadstudiedintheIrish
colégio
college
inRomeandhehad
ensinado
taught
metopronounceLatinproperly.
HehadtoldmestoriesaboutthecatacombsandaboutNapoleonBonaparte,andhehad
explicou
explained
tomethemeaningofthedifferentceremoniesoftheMassandofthedifferentvestmentswornbythepriest.
Sometimeshehadamusedhimselfbyputtingdifficultquestionstome,askingmewhatoneshoulddoin
certas
certain
circumstancesorwhethersuchandsuchsinsweremortalorvenialoronlyimperfections.
Hisquestionsshowedmehowcomplexandmysteriouswere
certas
certain
institutionsoftheChurchwhichIhadalwaysregardedasthesimplestacts.
ThedutiesofthepriesttowardstheEucharistandtowardsthesecrecyoftheconfessional
pareciam
seemed
sogravetomethatIwonderedhowanybodyhadeverfoundinhimselfthecouragetoundertakethem;
andIwasnotsurprisedwhenhetoldmethatthefathersofthe
Igreja
Church
hadwrittenbooksasthickasthePostOfficeDirectoryandascloselyprintedasthelawnoticesinthenewspaper,elucidatingalltheseintricatequestions.
Muitas vezes
Often
whenIthoughtofthisIcouldmakenoansweroronlyaveryfoolishandhaltingoneuponwhichheusedto
sorrir
smile
andnodhisheadtwiceorthrice.
SometimesheusedtoputmethroughtheresponsesoftheMasswhichhehadmademe
aprender
learn
byheart;
and,asIpattered,heusedto
sorrir
smile
pensivelyandnodhishead,nowandthen
empurrando
pushing
hugepinchesofsnuffupeachnostrilalternately.
Whenhe
sorria
smiled
heusedtouncoverhisbigdiscolouredteethandlethistonguelieuponhislowerlip—ahabitwhichhadmademefeeluneasyinthe
início
beginning
ofouracquaintancebeforeIknewhimwell.
AsIwalkedalonginthe
sol
sun
IrememberedoldCotter’swordsandtriedtorememberwhathadhappenedafterwardsinthedream.
IrememberedthatIhad
notado
noticed
longvelvetcurtainsandaswinginglampofantiquefashion.
IfeltthatIhadbeenveryfaraway,insome
terra
land
wherethecustomswerestrange—inPersia,Ithought....
ButIcouldnotremembertheendofthedream.
Intheeveningmy
tia
aunt
tookmewithherto
visitar
visit
thehouseofmourning.
Itwasaftersunset;
butthewindow-panesofthehousesthatlookedtothe
oeste
west
reflectedthetawnygoldofagreat
banco
bank
ofclouds.
Nanniereceivedusinthehall;
and,asitwouldhavebeenunseemlytohaveshoutedather,my
tia
aunt
shookhandswithherforall.
Theoldwomanpointedupwardsinterrogativelyand,onmyaunt’snodding,proceededtotoilupthenarrowstaircasebeforeus,herbowedheadbeingscarcelyabovethe
nível
level
ofthebanister-rail.
Atthefirstlandingshestoppedandbeckonedus
frente
forward
encouraginglytowardstheopendoorofthedead-room.
My
tia
aunt
wentinandtheoldwoman,seeingthatIhesitatedtoenter,
começou
began
tobeckontomeagainrepeatedlywithherhand.
Iwentinontiptoe.
Theroomthroughthelaceendoftheblindwassuffusedwithduskygoldenlightamidwhichthecandleslookedlikepalethinflames.
Hehadbeencoffined.
Nanniegavethe
liderança
lead
andwethreekneltdownatthe
foot
ofthebed.
Ipretendedto
orando
pray
butIcouldnotgathermythoughtsbecausetheoldwoman’smutteringsdistractedme.
I
notei
noticed
howclumsilyherskirtwashookedatthebackandhowtheheelsofherclothbootsweretroddendownalltooneside.
Thefancycametomethattheoldpriestwas
sorrindo
smiling
ashelaythereinhiscoffin.
Butno.WhenweroseandwentuptotheheadofthebedIsawthathewasnot
sorrindo
smiling
.
Therehelay,solemnandcopious,vestedasforthealtar,hislargehandslooselyretainingachalice.
Hisfacewasverytruculent,greyandmassive,withblackcavernousnostrilsandcircledbyascantywhitefur.
Therewasa
pesado
heavy
odourintheroom—theflowers.
Weblessedourselvesandcameaway.
InthelittleroomdownstairswefoundElizaseatedinhisarm-chairin
estado
state
.
IgropedmywaytowardsmyusualchairinthecornerwhileNanniewenttothesideboardandbroughtoutadecanterofsherryandsomewine-glasses.
Shesettheseonthe
mesa
table
andinvitedustotakealittle
copo
glass
ofwine.
Then,athersister’sbidding,shefilledoutthesherryintotheglassesand
passou
passed
themtous.
She
pressionou
pressed
metotakesomecreamcrackersalsobutIdeclinedbecauseIthoughtIwouldmaketoomuchnoiseeatingthem.
She
parecia
seemed
tobesomewhatdisappointedatmyrefusalandwentoverquietlytothesofawhereshesatdownbehindhersister.
Noonespoke:
weallgazedattheemptyfireplace.
My
tia
aunt
waiteduntilElizasighedandthensaid:.
“Ah,well,he’sgonetoabetterworld.”
Elizasighedagainandbowedherheadinassent.
My
tia
aunt
fingeredthestemofherwine-glassbeforesippingalittle.
“Didhe...
peacefully?”
sheasked.
“Oh,quitepeacefully,ma’am,”saidEliza.
“Youcouldn’ttellwhenthebreathwentoutofhim.
Hehadabeautifuldeath,Godbepraised.”
“Andeverything...?”
“FatherO’RourkewasinwithhimaTuesdayandanointedhimandpreparedhimandall.”
“Heknewthen?”
“Hewasquiteresigned.”
“Helooksquiteresigned,”saidmy
tia
aunt
.
“That’swhatthewomanwehadinto
lavou
wash
himsaid.
Shesaidhejustlookedasifhewasasleep,helookedthatpeacefulandresigned.
Noonewouldthinkhe’dmakesuchabeautifulcorpse.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidmy
tia
aunt
.
Shesippedalittlemorefromher
copo
glass
andsaid:.
“Well,MissFlynn,atanyrateitmustbeagreatcomfortforyoutoknowthatyoudidallyoucouldforhim.
Youwerebothverykindtohim,Imustsay.”
Elizasmoothedher
vestido
dress
overherknees.
“Ah,poorJames!”
shesaid.
“Godknowswedoneallwecould,aspoorasweare—wewouldn’tseehimwantanythingwhilehewasinit.”
Nanniehadleanedherheadagainstthesofa-pillowand
parecia
seemed
abouttofallasleep.
“There’spoorNannie,”saidEliza,lookingather,“she’sworeout.
Alltheworkwehad,sheandme,gettinginthewomantowashhimandthenlayinghimoutandthenthecoffinandthenarrangingabouttheMassinthechapel.
OnlyforFatherO’RourkeIdon’tknowwhatwe’dhavedoneatall.
Itwashimbroughtusallthemflowersandthemtwocandlesticksoutofthechapelandwroteoutthe
aviso
notice
fortheFreeman’sGeneralandtookchargeofallthepapersforthecemeteryandpoorJames’sinsurance.”
“Wasn’tthatgoodofhim?”
saidmy
tia
aunt
.
Elizaclosedhereyesandshookherheadslowly.
“Ah,there’snofriendsliketheoldfriends,”shesaid,“whenallissaidanddone,nofriendsthatabodycantrust.”
“Indeed,that’strue,”saidmy
tia
aunt
.
“AndI’msurenowthathe’sgonetohiseternalrewardhewon’tforgetyouandallyourkindnesstohim.”
“Ah,poorJames!”
saidEliza.
“Hewasnogreattroubletous.
Youwouldn’thearhiminthehouseanymorethannow.
Still,Iknowhe’sgoneandalltothat....”
“It’swhenit’salloverthatyou’llmisshim,”saidmy
tia
aunt
.
“Iknowthat,”saidEliza.
“Iwon’tbebringinghiminhis
chávena
cup
ofbeef-teaanymore,
nem
nor
you,ma’am,sendinghimhissnuff.
Ah,poorJames!”
Shestopped,asifshewerecommuningwiththepastandthensaidshrewdly:.
“Mindyou,I
notei
noticed
therewassomethingqueercomingoverhimlatterly.
WheneverI’dbringinhissouptohimthereI’dfindhimwithhisbreviaryfallentothe
chão
floor
,lyingbackinthechairandhis
boca
mouth
open.”
Shelaidafingeragainsther
nariz
nose
andfrowned:
thenshe
continuou
continued:
.
“Butstillandallhekeptonsayingthatbeforethe
verão
summer
wasoverhe’dgooutforadriveonefinedayjusttoseetheoldhouseagainwherewewereall
nascemos
born
downinIrishtownandtakemeandNanniewithhim.
Ifwecouldonlygetoneofthemnew-fangledcarriagesthatmakesnonoisethatFatherO’Rourketoldhimabout,themwiththerheumaticwheels,forthedaycheap—hesaid,atJohnnyRush’soverthewaythereanddriveoutthethreeofustogetherofaSundayevening.
Hehadhismindsetonthat....
PoorJames!”
“TheLordhavemercyonhissoul!”
saidmy
tia
aunt
.
Elizatookoutherhandkerchiefandwipedhereyeswithit.
Thensheputitbackagaininherpocketandgazedintotheemptygrateforsometimewithoutspeaking.