Traduction du conte "Timbó tree" :

L'arbre Timbó

Il était une fois un homme nommé Saguaa qui était le chef de sa tribu. Il avait une fille unique nommée Tacuaree qu'il aimait beaucoup. Ils étaient tous deux de bonnes personnes aimées par la tribu, et il n'était donc pas surprenant que Tacuaree ait de nombreux prétendants. Mais Tacuaree n'avait d'yeux que pour un homme d'une autre tribu. Même si Saguaa était attristé de voir sa fille chérie vivre si loin de lui, il respecta ses souhaits et la laissa partir avec sa bénédiction.

Les jours, les semaines, puis les mois passèrent, et Saguaa n'avait toujours pas de nouvelles de sa fille. Il commença à craindre qu'elle ne soit en danger et finit par partir à sa recherche. Il se rendit au village où Tacuaree avait déménagé, mais n'y trouva rien d'autre que des vestiges de ruines là où aurait dû se dérouler une vie prospère. Le village avait été attaqué par un ennemi inconnu, et tous les habitants avaient disparu. Désemparé, Saguaa se mit à la recherche de sa fille.

La piste s'estompa vite. N'ayant aucune autre piste, Saguaa tendit l'oreille vers le sol, espérant entendre des bruits de pas ou d'autres bruits qui lui permettraient de savoir où ils étaient allés. N'entendant rien, il se leva, avança, puis s'arrêta à nouveau, à l'affût de n'importe quoi. Il ne demanda jamais d'aide et ni ne cessa jamais de chercher.

Des mois plus tard, sa tribu le retrouva mort, toujours allongé, l'oreille collée au sol, écoutant sa fille. Mais une chose étrange s'était produite. Une plante avait poussé à partir de son oreille. La plante grandit, s'étira et finit par devenir un arbre. L'arbre fleurit et ses fruits ressemblaient à des oreilles humaines.

Depuis ce jour, l'arbre timbó représente l'amour éternel d'un père pour sa fille, car il l'écoute encore aujourd'hui.

Timbó tree

There once was a man named Saguaa who was the leader of his tribe. He had a single daughter named Tacuaree whom he loved very much. They were both good people beloved by the tribe, so it was not unexpected that Tacuaree had many suitors. But Tacuaree had eyes only for a man from another tribe. Through it saddened Saguaa to have his dear daughter live so far away from him, he also respected her wishes and let her go with his blessing.

Days, weeks, and then months passed, and still Saguaa had not heard from his daughter. He began to fear she was in danger, and finally he set out to see her. He went to the village that Tacuaree had moved to but found nothing but the remnants of ruin where thriving life should have been. The village had been attacked by an unknown enemy, and all the people were missing entirely. Distraught, Saguaa began searching for his daughter.

The trail soon ran cold. With no other leads, Saguaa placed his ear to the ground, hoping to hear the sound of stomping feet or other noises that could tell him where they had gone. He heard nothing, so he got up, moved on, and then stopped again, listening for anything. He never asked for help and never stopped searching.

Months later, his tribe found him dead, still lying with his ear to the ground listening to his daughter. But a strange thing had happened. A plant had grown out of his ear. The plant grew and stretched and eventually became a tree. The tree flowered, and its fruits looked like human ears.

From that day on, the timbó tree came to represent a father's undying love for his daughter, for he is still listening for her to this day.

For everyone who’s ever been told they’re ‘too much’— Go ahead and burn as brightly as you want to.

Then he said, “There isn’t an easy, direct translation into any other language…because it’s more like an idea. A feeling. We have a story in my old kingdom, that when the one you’re meant to be with enters the world, they steal a part of your soul with their first breath. “And you exist, missing that part, until they find you and breathe it back into you.

Sometimes we hold on to painful things, I think, because letting them go feels like letting go of the person who gave them to us.

- Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?

il crocheta ma nuque et plongea son regard au fond du mien. Ce fut comme s'il plantait ce mot au creux de mon âme.

- Toi.

Ce n'était pas une réponse. Pourtant, c'était la plus belle.

Toi.

De n'importe quelle façon, toi.

Juste toi.

Toujours...

La fébrilité de ses gestes, la douleur qu’il provoquait, étaient si différentes de la douceur de ses lèvres, de la lenteur de son baiser.

Bryce began running again, hurtling through the cave. Back toward Nesta and Ariel. And prayed there was something left for her to save.

But now I taste longing. Not the stirrings of lust that every young man knows as he reaches a certain age. Not the unsettled discomfort in the blood that urges for action and adventure. No, this is true longing. An ache in the soul. A realization that my heart is not whole and won't be until somehow, somewhere, I find that missing piece.

It is my belief that no thing of beauty should ever be caged, princess. I would only hope that even a wild bird might be convinced to remain of its own free will. And a man who truly cared for such a bird would be honored to do everything in his power to convince it.