Blogger Widgets Blogger Widgets ¡Mira que luna......! Look at that moon....! Resources for learning English: Google+ From " Herr Mozart wacht auf" by Eva

!Mira que luna! Look at that moon! Resources for learning English

!Mira que luna! Look at that moon! Resources for learning English
Fernando Olivera: El rapto.- TEXT FROM THE NOVEL The goldfinch by Donna Tartt (...) One night we were in San Antonio, and I was having a bit of a melt-down, wanting my own room, you know, my dog, my own bed, and Daddy lifted me up on the fairgrounds and told me to look at the moon. When "you feel homesick", he said, just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go". So after he died, and I had to go to Aunt Bess -I mean, even now, in the city, when I see a full moon, it's like he's telling me not to look back or feel sad about things, that home is wherever I am. She kissed me on the nose. Or where you are, puppy. The center of my earth is you". The goldfinch Donna Tartt 4441 English edition

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Google+ From " Herr Mozart wacht auf" by Eva

From " Herr Mozart wacht auf" by Eva Barensky - Translation by the Grinning Cats 
Even though he hated that kind of begging, one miserable evening he took his courage in both hands. 

He had just got into the club and the stage was empty, so he went to the counter all lit up in blue and addressed himself to the black bartender, formulated his request and asked for the owner. 

The owner, who looked like an overgrown child, had to bend his head when he walked under the door arch. 

Click here please if you want to read the text

“There is no vacancy for staff currently” he grunted, without looking at Wolfgang’s face either, and started keying on the cash register. 

“Noble and distinguished sir, with all the respect you deserve....” 

Wolfgang perched on the footrest bar of the counter, stretched as high as he could and put one hand behind his ear. 

“The one who plays this evening is a mere strummer, one who knows about music exactly as much as Satan knows about Vespers. Listen to that stuff! Have you realized how out of tune he is? What? You haven’t? Not at all? It’s really extremely bizarre....” 

The owner stretched out his chin toward the blabbing little man : 

“I’m perfectly capable of making an ass of myself on my own, without any help from you!” 

“ Of course, Monsieur, I have not the slightest crumb of doubt about that, but allow me to assure you that I’m an expert in a quite different way”. Wolfgang smiled suddenly and bowed to him imperceptibly. “An expert of music, sir, precisely of music.” 

“Did you run away from a Circus or what? This is not a cabaret. We don’t need any other musician. Nearly every night we have different players and I have a more than sufficient turn-over. Insisting is not worthwhile with the few clients we have.” 

“Well, if this evening there is not better musique , it’s a good way to drive out the few ones who have remained.” 

Wolfgang stared with intensity at the man with an aggressive look who wore a black polo-necked pullover. 

“I will play for you three passages; in exchange I only want food and beer. If you are not satisfied I’ll accept your decision and I won’t insist and you’ll be free to let that thing down there...” Wolfgang pointed at the now calm and sleepy piano “to keep on working without me. Does this idea meet your taste?” 

The owner rushed against Mozart with his eyebrows meeting in a furrowed angry line, pushing a finger on his chest. 

“We were waiting exactly for you! Do you know how many young men like you end up being mocked? “ 

Before Wolfgang might reply, the black bartender turned to the owner and spoke two words which immediately changed his attitude. 

The big man shrugged his shoulders. 

“That’s ok then”. He nodded toward the blue piano. “He says you are good. Then let us listen to something decent.” 

And Wolfgang played. 

He played what came to his mind in that very moment: old, new, all at once, interwove thoughts to get new, audacious variations, lost the perception of time and little by little all the places by the stage started to fill up . He had the impression that the club was getting lively. 

When because of thirst he got up from the piano and went to the counter, he realized that nobody was in the dark and far corner of the Blue Notes anymore. They had all moved to be beside the blue piano. 

Even the owner stared into the empty space with blank eyes. In front of him lay an open book, as if it were dozing on the table surface. 

Wolfgang climbed up on one of the stools and felt like a child who tries to conquer the Mount Everest of a kitchen chair. 

Then he addressed himself to the black bartender. 

“Now Mister Owner can see very clearly that if he wants clients he needs a good pianist” 

He nodded at the landlord who was behind him. 

“Well, now that I have accomplished my duty, I’d say I have deserved the promise of the owner, or rather his duty I mean, that is the beer he offered to me to relieve my thirst . What do you think?”. 

The black man nodded in return and smiled “You deceived him, the old chap. I bet he will engage you for the whole week”. He gave a glass to Wolfgang and reached out his hand too. 


“All the pleasure is mine.” Wolfgang shook his hand “ Moz...s hum stermann. Wolfgang Mustermann”... 

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