Le gigante egoiste

(Languages of this post: Interlingua, English)

Ille esseva un gigante multo egoiste.

Le povre infantes qui viveva in su village habeva nulle loco ubi illes poteva jocar. Illes essayava jocar in le camminos del village, ma illos esseva multo immunde e plen de petras dur, e illes non voleva jocar illac. Illes vagabundava circum un mur alte post terminar lor lectiones e parlava sur le jardin bellissime al altere latere del muro. "Quanto felice nos esseva illac," illes diceva le un al altere.

Tunc veniva le primavera, e in omne partes del campo circumferente il habeva parve aves e parve flores belle. Ma in le jardin del gigante egoiste le hiberno non voleva vader via. Le aves non voleva cantar illac proque il non habeva infantes, e le arbores oblidava a producer flores.

Un vice un flor belissime emergeva del herba. Ma quando illo videva un insignia prohibente le intrata del infantes, illo esseva tanto triste que illo retornava al solo e cadeva in somno.

Solmente le nive e le glacie esseva felice. "Le primavera ha oblidate iste jardin," critava illos, "e nos potera viver hic omne le anno."

Le nive coperiva le herba con su mantello blanc e grande, e le glacie pictava omne le arbores in colores de argento. Tunc le nive e le glacie invitava le vento del nord a remaner con illes, e illo veniva. Illo esseva involvite in un pellicia blanc, e illo rugiva omne le die.

"Que loco tanto mirabile," illo diceva. "Nos debe invitar le grandine a visitar nos." E veniva le grandine. Tres horas omne die illo cadeva in colpos ruitose sur le tecto del castello usque romper le major parte de su tegulas. Tunc illo curreva circum le jardin tanto rapidemente como illo poteva. Illo esseva vestite de gris e su halito esseva tanto frigide como le glacie.

"Io non comprende proque le primavera es tanto retardate," diceva le gigante egoiste durante que ille sedeva presso un fenestra de su castello e reguardava su jardin tanto frigide e blanc. "Io spera que tosto il habera un cambio in le tempore."

Ma ni le primavera ni le estate veniva a su jardin. Le autumno dava fructos auree a omne le village, ma illo dava nihil al jardin del gigante. "Ille es troppo egoiste," diceva le autumno. Assi, le hiberno sempre remaneva llac, e le vento del nord e le grandine e le glacie e le nive dansava in le arbores.

Un matino le gigante esseva cubate in su lecto e non poteva dormir quando ille audiva le melodia de un ave que cantava. Ille non poteva memorar le ultime vice que ille habeva audite un canto de ave in su jardin, e ille credeva que su musica esseva le musica le plus belle del mundo.

Tunc le grandine cessava su dansa sur su capite e le vento del nord cessava su rugitos e le perfume mirabile del flores veniva verso ille trans un fenestra un pauco aperite. "Io crede que al fin le primavera ha venite," diceva le gigante, e ille saltava ex su lecto e reguardava trans le fenestra a su jardin.

E que videva ille? Un vista mirabile. Trans un foramine in le muro circum su jardin le infantes repeva e scandeva a in le brancas del arbores. In cata arbore que ille poteva vider il habeva un parve infante. E le arbores esseva tanto felice con le presentia del infantes in lor brancas que illos se habeva coperite con flores nove e oscillava lor brachios sur le capites del infantes. Le aves volava in omne partes e cantava con felicitate, e le flores in le herba los reguarda e surrideva.

Le scena esseva belle e calorose, ma in un angulo le hiberno non vadeva via. Isto esseva le angulo le plus distante del jardin, e in illo stava un parve puero. Ille esseva tanto parve que ille non poteva tocar le brancas del arbore apud ille, e ille ambulava circum illo plorante con amaritude.

Le povre arbore non habeva perdite su nive e glacie, e le vento del nord sufflava supra illo. "Scande, scande," diceva le arbore al puero, extendente su brancas verso ille, ma le puero esseva troppo parve pro attinger los.

E le gigante reguardava le scena, e su corde fundeva. "Quanto egoiste ha essite io!" diceva ille. "Nunc io sape proque le primavera non voleva venir a mi jardin. Io ponera ille povre puero al summitate del arbore, e tunc io facera cader le muro, e mi jardin essera un loco ubi le infantes potera jocar quandocunque illes vole." Vermente, ille regrettava lo que ille habeva facite.

E assi ille vadeva lentemente al basso del scala de su castello, aperiva dulcemente su grande porta e vadeva a in su jardin. Ma quando le infantes le videva, illes esseva espaventate e correva via, e le hiberno retornava ancora un vice al jardin. Solmente le parve puero non correva via, nam su oculos esseva tanto plen de lacrimas que ille non videva le gigante quando ille le approchava.

Le gigante tunc le prendeva in su mano e le mitteva sur un branca de un arbore in le jardin, e le arbore immediatemente comenciava a producer flores. Le aves veniva e cantava circum su brancas, e le puero extendeva su brachios e los placiava circum le collo del gigante e le basiava. E le altere infantes, quando illes videva que le gigante nunc non esseva perverse, retornva al jardin, e con illes veniva le primavera.

"Io nunc dedica iste jardin a vostre felicitate," diceva le gigante. E ille prendeva un grande hacha e demolive le muro. E quando le gente del village vadeva al mercato al mediodie, illes videva le gigante, qui jocava con le infantes in le jardin le plus belle que illes unquam habeva vidite.

Omne le die illes jocava, e in le vispere illes diceva adeo al gigante e vadeva via. "Ma ubi es vostre amico, le puello que io poneva sur le branca de ille arbore?" "Nos non sape," respondeva illes. "Ille ha vadite via."

"Il es importante que vos dice a ille que ille debe retornar deman al jardin," diceva le gigante. Ma le infantes diceva que illes non sapeva ubi ille viveva e non le habeva vidite antea, e le gigante se sentiva multo triste.

E cata postmeridie post lor horas de schola, le infantes veniva e jocava con le gigante. Ma le parve puero que le gigante amava nunquam retornava. Le gigante esseva multo amabile a omne le infantes, ma ille regrettava multissimo le absentia del prime puero que habeva devenite su amico, e ille sovente parlava de ille. "Deo mie, io non pote dicer vos quanto io vole vider le ancora un vice," ille diceva sovente.

Le annos passava, e le gigante deveniva vetule e debile. Ille non plus poteva jocar in su jardin, e ille remaneva sedite in un molle chaise confortabile, admirante su jardin e observante le infantes in lor jocos. "Io ha multe belle flores," ille diceva, "ma le infantes es le flores le plus belle de omnes."

Un matino invernal ille reguardava trans su fenestra durante que ille se vestiva. Ille nunc non odiava le inverno, nam ille sapeva que le primavera e su flores solmente dormiva. Subitemente ille se fricava le oculos in admiration, reguardante un arbore in un angulo distante in su jardin. Illo esseva coperite con bellissime flores blanc. Su brancas esseva completemente auree, e fructos argentee pendeva de su brancas. Sub omne isto stava le parve puero que ille habeva amate.

Gaudiose, le gigante curreva al arbore. E quando ille se approximava al puero su facie deveniva rubie a causa del cholera que ille sentiva post vider que le puero esseva vulnerate.

"Qui osava a vulnerar te?" demandava ille. Ille videva in le palmas de su manos le stampa de duo clavos e le stampa de duo altere clavos in le pedes del povre puero.

"Qui osava a vulnerar te?" demandava le gigante. "Dice me de maniera que io pote prender mi gladio gigante e occider le."

"No," respondva le puero. "Istes es le vulneres de amor."

"Ma qui es tu?" demandava le gigante. Un pavor reverential le saisiva e ille se geniculava ante le parve puero.

E le puero sorrideva verso ille e diceva, "Tu me permitteva jocar un vice in tu jardin. Hodie tu venira con me a mi proprie jardin in le paradiso."

E quando le infantes veniva currente al jardin ille postmeridie, illes trovava le gigante jacente sub ille arbore, morte, completemente coperite con flores blanc.

---

The Selfish Giant

He was a very selfish giant.

The poor children living in his village had no place where they could play. They tried to play in the streets of the village, but they were very dirty and filled with hard rocks, and they didn't want to play there. They roamed around a high wall after ending their work at school and talked about the very beautiful garden on the other side of the wall. "How happy we used to be there," they said to one another.

Then came the spring, and everywhere in the surrounding countryside there were little birds and small, beautiful flowers. But in the selfish giant's garden the winter would not go away. The birds did not want to sing there because there were no children, and the trees forgot to come up with flowers.

Once a very beautiful flower came up from the grass. But when it saw a sign forbidding the children to come in, it was so sad that it fell back to the ground and went to sleep.

Only the snow and ice were happy. "Spring has forgotten this garden," they cried, "and we will be able to live here all year long."

The snow covered the grass with its big, white cloak, and ice painted all the trees in various shades of silver. Then the snow and ice invited the north wind to stay with them, and it came in. It was wrapped in white fur, and it roared all day long.

"What a marvelous place," it said. We must invite the hail to visit us. And the hail came. For three hours a day it fell in noisy blows onto the roof of the castle until it broke most of its tiles. Then it ran around the garden as fast as it could. It was dressed in grey, and its breath was as cold as ice.

"I don't understand why spring is so late," the selfish giant said as he sat next to one of the windows of his castle and and looked out at his cold, white garden. "I hope the weather will soon change."

But neither spring nor summer came to his garden. Autumn produced golden fruit everywhere in the village, but it gave nothing to the giant's garden. "He is too selfish," said the autumn. So winter always remained there, and the north wind and the hail and the ice and snow danced in the trees.

One morning the giant was lying in his bed unable to sleep when he heard the melody of a bird that was singing. He could not remember the last time that he had heard a bird singing in his garden, and he believed that its music was the most beautiful music in the world.

Then the hail stopped its dance over his head and the north wind stoped roaring and the wonderful perfume of the flowers came toward him through a slightly opened window. "I believe that at last spring has come," said the giant, and he jumped out of bed and looked out through the window at his garden.

And what did he see? A wonderful view. Through a gap in the fence the chidren crawled and climbed up onto the branches of the trees. In each tree that he was able to see there was a small child. And the trees were so happy with the presence of the children on their branches that they had covered themselves with new flowers and swung their branches over the children's heads. The birds flew everywhere and sang happily, and the flowers in the grass looked at them and smiled.

The scene was warm and beautiful, but in one corner winter would not go away. This was the most distant corner in the garden, and in it there was a small boy. He was so small that he could not touch the branches of the tree next to him, and he walked around it crying bitterly.

The poor tree had not lost its snow and ice, and the north wind blew above it. "Climb up, climb up," said the tree to the boy, extending its branches toward him, but the boy was too small to reach them.

And the giant looked upon the scene and his heart melted. "How selfish I've been!" he said. "Now I know why the spring did not want to come to my garden. I am going to put that poor boy on the top of the tree, and then I will tear down the wall, and my garden will be a place where children will be able to play whenever they want." Truly, he was sorry for what he had done.

And so he slowly made his way down the stairs in his castle, softly opening its great door and went into his garden. But when the children saw him, they were terrified and ran away, and the winter returned once again to the garden. Only the small boy did not run away, for his eyes were so filled with tears that he did not see the giant when he came toward him.

The giant then took him in his hand and put him on a branch of a tree in the garden, and the tree immediately started to produce flowers. The birds came and sang around its branches, and the boy extended his arms and placed them around the giant's neck and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the giant was no longer mean, returned to the garden, and with them came the spring.

"I now dedicate this garden to your happiness," said the Giant. And he took a big axe and demolished the wall. And when the people in the village went to the market at noon, they saw the giant, who was playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

All day long they played, and in the evening they said good-bye to the giant and went away. "But where is your friend, the boy I put on the branch of that tree?" "We don't know," they replied. "He has gone away."

"It is important for you to tell him to come back to the garden tomorrow," said the giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived and had not seen him before, and the giant felt very sad.

And every afternoon after school was over, the children came and played with the giant. But the little boy that the giant loved never returned. The giant was very nice to all the children, but he really missed the first boy who had become his friend, and he often talked of him. "My God, I would like to see him once again," he often said.

The years went by, and the giant became old and feeble. He was no longer able to play in his garden, and he remained seated in a soft, comfortable chair, admiring his garden and watching the children as they played. "I have a lot of beautiful flowers," he said, "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all."

One winter morning he looked through his window as he got dressed. He did not hate the winter now, for he knew that spring and its flowers were only sleeping. Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in awe, as he saw a tree in a distant corner of his garden. It was covered with beautiful white flowers. Its branches were all colored in gold, and silver fruit hung from its branches. Below all this was the little boy that he had loved.

Joyfully the Giant ran to the tree and the boy. And when he came close to the boy, his face became red with rage because of the fury that he felt after seeing that the boy was wounded.

"Who dared wound you?" he demanded. He saw that the palms of his hands had been wounded by nails, and so had the feet of the poor boy.

"Who dared to wound you?" demanded the giant. "Tell me so that I can go get my giant sword and kill him."

"No," said the boy. These are the wounds of love."

"But who are you?" adked the giant. A feeling of awe seized him, and he knelt before the small boy.

And the boy smiled at him and said, "You let me play once in your garden. Today you will come to my own garden in paradise."

And when the children came running into the garden that afternoon, they found the giant lying dead under that tree, completely covered with white flowers.