May 12th, 2004

this is me

et, couché dans l'herbe, il pleura.

I made up my Italian and Trig tests today. Mrs. Rosanski didn't have the French test, so I wasn't able to make it up - thank God - so I got an extra day to (shock!) study. I'll make it up tomorrow.

Nothing phenomenal occurred today. The new Trig is easy (watch me get it all wrong!), we learned the (gasp) subjunctive in French today (easy). I understand the Italian. History was as stupifying as always.

My father forgot to pick us up, so Kris and myself walked home. Sort of. And then Mary and Barry stopped and gave us a ride for the rest of the way, which was, of course, utterly fantastic of them. And I came home to a really hot house. I fell asleep. I have bed hair. End.

Now, for a surprisingly good chapter from Le Petit Prince... if you want me to translate for you, I'd be willing. Or you could go to freetranslation.com. Or you could always get an English version of the book, you damn cheapskates. ;)


XVIII

Le petit prince traversa le désert et ne rencontra qu'une fleur. Une fleur à trois pétales, une fleur de rien du tout...

- Bonjour, dit le petit prince.

- Bonjour, dit la fleur.

- Où sont les hommes? demanda poliment le petit prince.

La fleur, un jour, avait vu passer une caravane:

- Les hommes? Il en existe, je crois, six ou sept. Je les ai aperçus il y a des années. Mais on ne sait jamais où les trouver. Le vent les promène. Ils manquent de racines, ça les gêne beaucoup.

- Adieu, fit le petit prince.

- Adieu, dit la fleur.
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