Kan sursa

("The Shop of Ghosts") bay Gilbert Keith Chesterton {|width=100% |- |Nearly all the best and most precious things in the universe you can get for a halfpenny. I make an exception, of course, of the sun, the moon, the earth, people, stars, thunderstorms, and such trifles. You can get them for nothing. Also I make an exception of another thing, which I am not allowed to mention in this paper, and of which the lowest price is a penny halfpenny. But the general principle will be at once apparent. In the street behind me, for instance, you can now get a ride on an electric tram for a halfpenny. To be on an electric tram is to be on a flying castle in a fairy tale. You can get quite a large number of brightly coloured sweets for a halfpenny. Also you can get the chance of reading this article for a halfpenny; along, of course, with other and irrelevant matter. |Den hampi oli zuy hao e zuy valor-ney kosa in munda oni mog pai pur haf-peni. Me fai exepta, sertem, fo surya, luna, arda, jenta, staras, garjas, e tal syaodelas. Oni mog pai li pur nixa. Yoshi me fai exepta fo otre kosa, den kel me bu darfi mensioni in sey papir e kel-ney zuy nise prais es un e haf peni. Bat generale prinsip tuy ve bi klare. In gata baken me, fo exampla, oni mog raki elektre tram pur haf-peni. Wan kel raki elektre tram, ta es in fabula-ney flai-she kastela. Oni mog pai sufem mucho dolchika do yarke kolor pur haf-peni. Yoshi oni mog pai fortuna de lekti sey makala pur haf-peni; sertem, kun otre e bugwanse material. |- |But if you want to see what a vast and bewildering array of valuable things you can get at a halfpenny each you should do as I was doing last night. I was gluing my nose against the glass of a very small and dimly lit toy shop in one of the greyest and leanest of the streets of Battersea. But dim as was that square of light, it was filled (as a child once said to me) with all the colours God ever made. Those toys of the poor were like the children who buy them; they were all dirty; but they were all bright. For my part, I think brightness more important than cleanliness; since the first is of the soul, and the second of the body. You must excuse me; I am a democrat; I know I am out of fashion in the modern world. |Bat si oni yao vidi, kwel vaste e astoni-she menga de valorful kosas oni mog pai pur haf-peni per kada, oni treba zwo kom me zwo-te yeri pa aksham. Me presi-te may nos kontra glas de muy syao e obskure pleika-shop in un de zuy grey e zuy tange gatas de Batersi. Obwol toy kwadra de luma bin buyarke, it bin fule de oli kolor ke Boh enives zwo-te (kom un kinda shwo-te a me unves). Toy pleikas fo povres simili kindas hu kupi li; li oli es gande, bat li oli es yarke. E segun me, yarkitaa es pyu muhim kem klintaa, bikos un-ney gwansi atma e dwa-ney gwansi korpa. Oni treba skusi me; me es demokratier; me jan ke me es ausen moda in moden munda. |- |As I looked at that palace of pigmy wonders, at small green omnibuses, at small blue elephants, at small black dolls, and small red Noah's arks, I must have fallen into some sort of unnatural trance. That lit shop-window became like the brilliantly lit stage when one is watching some highly coloured comedy. I forgot the grey houses and the grimy people behind me as one forgets the dark galleries and the dim crowds at a theatre. It seemed as if the little objects behind the glass were small, not because they were toys, but because they were objects far away. The green omnibus was really a green omnibus, a green Bayswater omnibus, passing across some huge desert on its ordinary way to Bayswater. The blue elephant was no longer blue with paint; he was blue with distance. The black doll was really a negro relieved against passionate tropic foliage in the land where every weed is flaming and only man is black. The red Noah's ark was really the enormous ship of earthly salvation riding on the rain-swollen sea, red in the first morning of hope. |Duran ke me zai kan an toy palas de pigma-ney miraklas, an syao grin buses, an syao blu elefantas, an syao swate kuklas, e an syao rude Noa-shipes, me semblem lwo inu koy nopinchan transa-si. Toy lumisi-ney shop-winda bikam kwasi yarkem lumisi-ney skena wen oni kan koy kolorful komedia. Me fogeti grey domes e gande jenta baken me, sam kom in teatra oni fogeti tume sala e obskure jenmenga. Sembli ke syao obyektas baken glas es syao bu bikos li es pleikas, bat bikos li es dale. Grin bus es reale grin bus, grin bus fon Beiswoter, muvi-she tra koy vaste sahra al suy pinchan dao a Beiswoter. Blu elefanta bu es blu por pinta; ta es blu por dalitaa. Swate kukla es reale swatkolor-ney jen kontrasti-she kontra agnilik tropike liftot in toy landa wo kada planta es flamalik e sol jen es swate. Rude Noa-ship es reale gran ship do arda-ney salva, kel zai raki tra ti pluva puhlisi na mar e kel gei rudisi bay un-ney sabah do nada. |- |Every one, I suppose, knows such stunning instants of abstraction, such brilliant blanks in the mind. In such moments one can see the face of one's own best friend as an unmeaning pattern of spectacles or moustaches. They are commonly marked by the two signs of the slowness of their growth and the suddenness of their termination. The return to real thinking is often as abrupt as bumping into a man. Very often indeed (in my case) it is bumping into a man. But in any case the awakening is always emphatic and, generally speaking, it is always complete. Now, in this case, I did come back with a shock of sanity to the consciousness that I was, after all, only staring into a dingy little toy-shop; but in some strange way the mental cure did not seem to be final. There was still in my mind an unmanageable something that told me that I had strayed into some odd atmosphere, or that I had already done some odd thing. I felt as if I had worked a miracle or committed a sin. It was as if I had at any rate, stepped across some border in the soul. |Shayad kadawan koni tal nasha-ney momentas de distrata, tal merkival konsa-gapes. In tal momentas oni mog vidi fas de swa-ney prope zuy hao amiga kom sinsensu-ney kombina de okula e mustash. Pinchanem li es do lente beginsa bat do turan-ney fin. Returna a normale duming es oftem sam abrupte kom imbating kontra pasijen. Oftem hi (in may kasu) es kwasi imbating kontra pasijen. Bat in eni kasu jagifa es sempre yarke e, shwo-yen generalem, it es sempre komplete. Nau, in sey kasu, me, kun idyen shok, returni hi a konsa ke pa fakta me sol zai kan inu lao syao pleika-shop; bat, pa koy strane dao, mentale sanifa bu es fin-ney. In may menta haishi ye koysa buduyfubile kel shwo a me ke me he geti inu koy ajibe atmosfera, oda ke me selfa he zwo koysa ajibe. Me senti kwasi me he fai mirakla o gunah. To bin kwasi me he trastepi koy daklis in atma. |- |To shake off this dangerous and dreamy sense I went into the shop and tried to buy wooden soldiers. The man in the shop was very old and broken, with confused white hair covering his head and half his face, hair so startlingly white that it looked almost artificial. Yet though he was senile and even sick, there was nothing of suffering in his eyes; he looked rather as if he were gradually falling asleep in a not unkindly decay. He gave me the wooden soldiers, but when I put down the money he did not at first seem to see it; then he blinked at it feebly, and then he pushed it feebly away. |Dabe mah-wek sey danja-ney e sonjalik senta, me go inu shop e probi kupi ligna-ney soldatas. Man-ge in shop es muy lao e morbe-si, do blan har kel buordinem kovri luy kapa e haf de fas, har tanto blan ke it sembli hampi jengun-ney. Obwol lu es lao e nosane-si, nul sufra ye in luy okos; pyu-nem, lu aspekti kom gradualem en-lwo-she inu nodushte somna. Lu dai a me ligna-ney soldatas, bat wen me pon mani, lu semblem bu merki it; poy lu migi an it feblem, e poy atarafi it bay feble muva. |- |"No, no," he said vaguely. "I never have. I never have. We are rather old-fashioned here." | - Non, non, - lu shwo bulautem. - Me neva pren mani. Neva. Nu es aika lao-moda-ney hir. |- |"Not taking money," I replied, "seems to me more like an uncommonly new fashion than an old one." | - Tu bu pren mani, - me repliki, - sembli a me kom nove moda, bu kom lao-la. |- |"I never have," said the old man, blinking and blowing his nose; "I've always given presents. I'm too old to stop." | - Me neva pren, - laojen shwo al migi e mukati. - Me sempre dai donas. Me es tro lao fo shanji. |- |"Good heavens!" I said. "What can you mean? Why, you might be Father Christmas." | - Hao swarga! - me shwo. - Kwo yu maini? Yu simili Santa Klaus. |- |"I am Father Christmas," he said apologetically, and blew his nose again. | - Me es Santa Klaus hi, - lu shwo pa pregi-skusa-ke ton e mukati snova. |- |The lamps could not have been lighted yet in the street outside. At any rate, I could see nothing against the darkness but the shining shop-window. There were no sounds of steps or voices in the street; I might have strayed into some new and sunless world. But something had cut the chords of common sense, and I could not feel even surprise except sleepily. Something made me say, "You look ill, Father Christmas." |Fanuses haishi bu mog bi lumisi-ney in gata ausen. Enikas, me mog vidi nixa in obskuritaa exepte glan-she shop-winda. In gata suon de stepas oda voses yok; sembli ke me ouran he lai a koy nove e sinsurya-ney munda. Bat koysa he mah-of may rasum, e me iven bu es surprisen, hampi. Koysa mah me shwo: - Yu aspekti morbe, Santa Klaus. |- |"I am dying," he said. | - Me es morti-she, - lu shwo. |- |I did not speak, and it was he who spoke again. |Me bu shwo, lu hi shwo snova. |- |"All the new people have left my shop. I cannot understand it. They seem to object to me on such curious and inconsistent sort of grounds, these scientific men, and these innovators. They say that I give people superstitions and make them too visionary; they say I give people sausages and make them too coarse. They say my heavenly parts are too heavenly; they say my earthly parts are too earthly; I don't know what they want, I'm sure. How can heavenly things be too heavenly, or earthly things too earthly? How can one be too good, or too jolly? I don't understand. But I understand one thing well enough. These modern people are living and I am dead." | - Ol jenta nove he kwiti may shop. Me bu mog samaji se. Li semblem objeti me por ga kuriose e kontradikte kausas, oli toy vigyaner, oli toy jen do nove teknologias. Li shwo ke me dai malkredas a jenes, ke me mah li tro drimishil; li shwo ke me dai sosises a jenes, ke me mah li tro karke. Li shwo ke may swarga-ney parta es tro swarga-ney; li shwo ke may arda-ney parta es tro arda-ney; me bu jan kwo li yao, me es serte. Komo swarga-ney kosas mog bi tro swarga-ney, oda arda-ney kosas tro arda-ney? Komo oni mog bi tro hao oda tro joisaful? Me bu samaji. Bat me samaji un dela ga hao. Toy moden jenta zai jivi, e me es morte. |- |"You may be dead," I replied. "You ought to know. But as for what they are doing, do not call it living." | - Mogbi yu es morte, - me repliki. - Yu sertem jan se pyu hao. Bat apropoo li, bye nami se kom jiving. |- |A silence fell suddenly between us which I somehow expected to be unbroken. But it had not fallen for more than a few seconds when, in the utter stillness, I distinctly heard a very rapid step coming nearer and nearer along the street. The next moment a figure flung itself into the shop and stood framed in the doorway. He wore a large white hat tilted back as if in impatience; he had tight black old-fashioned pantaloons, a gaudy old-fashioned stock and waistcoat, and an old fantastic coat. He had large, wide-open, luminous eyes like those of an arresting actor; he had a pale, nervous face, and a fringe of beard. He took in the shop and the old man in a look that seemed literally a flash and uttered the exclamation of a man utterly staggered. |Silensa turan lwo inter nu, e me por koy kausa bu expekti ke it fini. Bat afte kelke sekunda, in komplete silensa, me distintem audi muy kway stepas lai-she pyu blisem e pyu blisem pa gata. Pa sekwi-momenta un jen-figura ek-apari in shop, stan pa daklis. Lu onhev chaure blan shapa shifti-ney bak kwasi pa nosabra; lu onhev tange swate lao-moda-ney panta, yarke lao-moda-ney tay e subjaketa, e lao fantastike palto. Lu hev gran, chaurem ofni-ney, lumaful okos kom okos de inspiri-ney aktor; lu hev pale, nerva-ney fas e barba kom franja. Lu fai blizalik kansa an shop e an laoman, mah-chu exklama do jen gro-astonen. |- |"Good lord!" he cried out; "it can't be you! It isn't you! I came to ask where your grave was." | - May boh! - lu exklami; - se bu mog bi yu! Se bu es yu! Me lai-te fo kwesti wo yur kabra es. |- |"I'm not dead yet, Mr. Dickens," said the old gentleman, with a feeble smile; "but I'm dying," he hastened to add reassuringly. | - Me haishi bu es morte, sinior Dikens, - laoman shwo al smaili feblem; - bat me es morti-she, - lu hastem adi nadisi-shem. |- |"But, dash it all, you were dying in my time," said Mr. Charles Dickens with animation; "and you don't look a day older." | - Bat, pa diabla, yu bin morti-she yo in may taim, - sinior Charles Dikens shwo kun anima; - e yu bu sembli pa un dey pyu lao. |- |"I've felt like this for a long time," said Father Christmas. | - Me sta samem depos davem, - Santa Klaus shwo. |- |Mr. Dickens turned his back and put his head out of the door into the darkness. |Sinior Dikens turni sirkum e mah luy kapa aus dwar inu tumitaa. |- |"Dick," he roared at the top of his voice; "he's still alive." | - Dik! - lu brai-si pa ol mogsa de luy vos; - lu es haishi jive. |- |Another shadow darkened the doorway, and a much larger and more full-blooded gentleman in an enormous periwig came in, fanning his flushed face with a military hat of the cut of Queen Anne. He carried his head well back like a soldier, and his hot face had even a look of arrogance, which was suddenly contradicted by his eyes, which were literally as humble as a dog's. His sword made a great clatter, as if the shop were too small for it. |Otre shada obskurisi daklis, e un mucho pyu gran e pyu rude-wanga-ney manjen do gran peruka zin, befengi-yen luy rude fas bay armee-shapa do regina Anna taim. Lu teni kapa ga rektem, kom soldata, e luy warme fas wud aspekti naglem si luy okos bu wud bi letrem sam namre kom doga-ney-las. Luy zian fai gran suon, kwasi shop es tro syao fo it. |- |"Indeed," said Sir Richard Steele, "'tis a most prodigious matter, for the man was dying when I wrote about Sir Roger de Coverley and his Christmas Day." | - Verem, - sir Richard Stil shwo, - es gro-astoni-she kosa, bikos sey man bin morti-she wen me skribi-te om sir Rojer de Koverli e luy Kristajanma. |- |My senses were growing dimmer and the room darker. It seemed to be filled with newcomers. |May senses zai obskurifi, e shamba zai tumifi. Sembli ke it es fule de nove laier. |- |"It hath ever been understood," said a burly man, who carried his head humorously and obstinately a little on one side (I think he was Ben Jonson) "It hath ever been understood, consule Jacobo, under our King James and her late Majesty, that such good and hearty customs were fallen sick, and like to pass from the world. This grey beard most surely was no lustier when I knew him than now." | - Oni samaji-te se, - un masbute manjen shwo, kel teni luy kapa drolem e zidem idyen versu un flanka (me dumi ke lu es Ben Jonson) - Oni samaji-te se, konsula Jakob, al nuy Rego Jeims e al Elay Mahantaa bu pyu jive, ke tal hao e sinsere abyases zai fadi e zai desapari fon munda. Sey man do grey barba sertem bu bin pyu sane dan kem nau. |- |And I also thought I heard a green-clad man, like Robin Hood, say in some mixed Norman French, "But I saw the man dying." |E me semblem audi komo un manjen in grin klaida, simili-she Robin Hud, shwo pa koy mixi-ney norman franse lingwa, - Me selfa he vidi sey man morti-she. |- |"I have felt like this a long time," said Father Christmas, in his feeble way again. | - Me sta samem depos davem, - Santa Klaus shwo, snova in luy feble dao. |- |Mr. Charles Dickens suddenly leant across to him. |Sinior Charles Dikens turan inklini versu lu. |- |"Since when?" he asked. "Since you were born?" | - Depos wen? - lu kwesti. - Depos ke yu janmi? |- |"Yes," said the old man, and sank shaking into a chair. "I have been always dying." | - Ya, - laoman shwo, e tremi-yen nichifi inu stula. - Me sempre bin morti-she. |- |Mr. Dickens took off his hat with a flourish like a man calling a mob to rise. |Sinior Dikens depon luy shapa e mavi it, kom man voki-she jenmenga fo rebeli. |- |"I understand it now," he cried, "you will never die." | - Nau me samaji, - lu krai, - yu ve neva morti. |} [[Category:Rakonta]]

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