Борис Литвинов

Страна: Россия

Я переводчик по образованию. Давно хотел попробовать свои силы в литературном переводе. Перевод художественного произведения с русского языка на иностранный – задача непростая, но именно такие задачи я люблю.

Country: Russia

I graduated from university as a translator. Language learning is my passion. I love English. I’m also interested in Portuguese, French and other Romance languages. Translating fiction is a challenging task, but I’m sure, it’ll help me to improve as a transator and to get essential experience. I’m glad to participate in such a contest.




Перевод произведения “Одна необыкновенная история” Алшан Гаир

An extraordinary story



This story began long ago, when in one town it was decided to lay out a garden on a
deserted field of saline solid soil.

The field was virtually in the very center of that town. The mayor, all the local
aristocracy, and in adittion a couple of thin nosy journalists with notebooks in their hands,
lined up decorously around the field. The mayor stepped onto the field, holding a seedling in
one hand, and a shovel in another, smiling in front of a photographic camera, supported on
a tripod and covered with a dark cloth. After a moment of confusion, he put the seedling
aside and stuck the shovel into the solid soil. However the shovel met with resistance of the
soil, solid like stone. Its point barely delved into the ground for several millimeters. But the
mayor, still smiling, was stubbornly trying to push the shovel deeper. He was doing it so
diligently, that his bowler hat went awry, and the pince-nez fell from his nose. The help
came right away. The assistants took the shovel carefully from the mayor, called up a
curious laborer, loafing nearby, and handed it over to the latter. When a little hole had been
dug with great effort, the laborer was driven away, and beside the hole, holding the seedling
in one hand, and the shovel in another, the mayor was standing, smiling as before. In that
very position he was photographed.

In the archives, where all the periodicals of the previous years are kept, you can find
a newspaper with an article and the photo, attached to it.

On that day the mayor planted a young oak, thin, with bare branches. Passers felt
compassion looking at it, and practically no one doubted, that it would wither in about ten
days. That very oak was expected to be the first tree of a shady garden in the center of the
town. Over the following days another trees were planted – lindens, maples, acacias, but
with less ceremonies and solemnity and, of course, without the mayor and the local
notables. However, in a couple of weeks almost all the trees withered. They couldn’t settle
down in the solid, barren soil, and only acacias and that young oak not only survived, but
even showed buds on their thin branches.

Several years later the oak and the acacias have grown a lot, and spread their
branches abroad, showing beautiful green leaves. They were the only trees growing on the
field. After the townsfolk had tried unsuccessfully to plant some more trees, they gave up
and abandoned their dream – to lay out a shady garden in the town’s center. Yet, they
managed to create sort of a park. The oak and the acacias filled the blank space and their
green clothing was pleasant to look at. At the very feet of the trees emerald weeds were
spreading, hiding the dismal picture of grey barren soil. In general, everything looked quite
nice. In spring that small park was filled with sweet smell of acacia flowers, and often under
the heavy white bunches of flowers sweethearts could be seen. They murmured, separated
from the whole world not only by tree branches, but by umbrellas as well.

The local authorities hired a special employee, whose responsibility was to take care
of the park, not let the trees to grow too big, and keep the central part of the town quite
neat. The beautiful wooden benches with carved armrests and backrests were placed along
the walkways. The first bench was placed under that very oak, in the presence of the mayor
again. Generally the young oak got a lot of attention, since he was the only noble tree in the
park. But we should say, that he himself didn’t brag at all of his ancestry, he was friendly,
cheerful and very kind to the acacias and the weeds. As a matter of fact, he had no much
choice, they were the only company he had. The careless acacias used to chuckle all the time, rustling with their branches. In spring they exhaled the redolent smell of the flowers
near the magnificent oak. Some of them tried to flirt with him, but he always was discreet
and pleasant.

One beautiful morning there came several boys and girls. They were dressed in light
summer clothes. They all looked cheerful and happy. The girls were trilling with laughter,
and the inspired boys, were trying to be even more witty. After a long walk, they decided to
rest a bit, several girls sat on the bench just beside our oak. The joy of the visitors affected
him, and he tried to protect the girls from the hot sun as careful as he could. He spread his
branches and began to study his guests attentively. He believed himself to be the host of
the park and, we should say, that he was genial and nice. Oh, how he wished he could talk!
He would tell a lot of stories and become the kindest host in the world!

All the girls were pretty, but one of them was especially attractive to him – she had
white pretty face, long dark hair, pulled back and neatly caught by a rose ribbon. That girl
had amazingly bright blue eyes, with thick dark eyelashes. She radiated freshness. She
looked like a spring fragrant flower. The oak couldn’t help looking at her. She was a bit shy.
She was looking at the boys timidly, with her head inclined. She wasn’t laughing like the
others, just smiling a bit at her friends’ jokes. When the guests were about to leave, the oak
got upset, he wanted at least that pretty girl to stay over his branches. But they’ve gone,
and the oak again found himself in the company of the flirty acacias.

However he didn’t have to be sad for a long time. That girl started to come quite
often, sometimes with her friends, sometimes alone. The oak was always glad to see her.
At that moments he changed and it seemed he became fresher and younger. It caused
rumors among his neighbors, they whispered now and then and began to look at him
strangely. The acacias quit flirting with him, actually they quit talking to him. But the oak
didn’t care. He lived waiting for a new day, when he could see again the beautiful girl. «It’s
love», – sighed one of the acacias. «Love?», – asked the oak. He didn’t understand. «Yes,
love», – confirmed the second acacia. «You fell in love», – concluded the third one. «But it’s
a pity, you fell in love in vain», – sighed the first acacia. Isn’t your love to a human doomed
to be unrequited? «Poor oak», – whispered the acacias, – «poor oak». They were afraid, he
would wither soon because of the yearning. But the oak didn’t listen to them, he still lived
awaiting his beloved one.

One morning he woke up and felt, that something had changed. It was some new,
unknown feelings. He tried to spread his big branches, but noticed at once, that he hadn’t
branches at all, instead he had two arms. Gave himself a searching look, he saw two legs –
he had turned into a human! The oak was confused, he couldn’t understand, how it had
happened. Was it real? He heard the rustling behind – it was the acacias. But he couldn’t
understand them. Suddenly he felt sadness, they all were his friends. But the sadness was
replaced by the image of the beautiful girl. Now he could meet her and she even could like
him! He was eagerly awaiting her on the bench. And above it there was no a high shady
tree any more.

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