I decided to bring me up with this page I have about EFP; finally have enough time to lose riuscirci senza combinare guai per la fretta. E ormai ho rinunciato all'idea di tradurle...
Se volete lasciare un commento, benvenuti <3 potete anche curiosare su EFP cercando Mirtle.
Updating my lj with the most recent (and not so recent) fanfiction I've written... yes, I know I said that I would translate the shorter ones, but I simply can't find the time and will to do so ^^; The fact is, I keep on writing and writing and writing new things; I barely have the time to type and publish them in Italian. I would need a serious absence of inspiration to turn to translation...
So, I apologize *bows*
My dreams no
"You have all sorts of weird that you mix for the head, ... I had my son, too, when I was young like you, but dreams, son, in this corner of the world, end up in a mug of beer. "
" My dreams no, Dad. Cultivate my land one day. "
Joe and Joseph Donnelly, "Far and Away"
The ground is soft. The pole sinks gently.
We have staked our land. The
our ground.
Joseph's hand holds the wood for a moment, then opens.
in the dusty, among the cries and neighing of horses, our clothes crumpled and muddy confuse us with other adventurers, it is hard to see ... but who cares? Joseph is lying on the grass. Joseph breathe.
And look at me.
God thanks! His eyes stopped moving away. Color in her cheeks again.
I lean on one arm and spare his eyes, then I am reminded of Steven.
Steven tried to kill him, I would have had even at the cost of the assassination. But I did not have stolen and now, for his extreme humiliation, the smile is a bit 'wrong and resigned to a farmer to receive my promise. Yes We did it. You did it, Joseph. You have your land ... and get me.
Suddenly I realize: it's over.
The travails, hopes, and the uncertainty of the days Irish no longer exist. We are in Oklahoma, winners.
It 's the precious moment of jubilation when the triumph is still fresh and gold, is not marred by the everyday. Ireland
Farewell, farewell my childhood. More than ever, you feel distant.
Who knows, I may go back someday. By Joseph. "I belong to Ireland," I cried that day, indignantly. Wander side by side in the mist, the green top, with the wind howling through the cracks of the cliffs ... But will offer my trip - I will not again bring bad luck.
I laugh a little.
Joseph, who caresses the grass slightly bent, arched eyebrows.
Ah, her smile.
He will be my love in a foreign land. In our land, where trees grow along the river and the grass is combed by the wind, just as we wanted that night, under the cover of Christmas, we will build our future. And I will come in his house as a bride.
Oh, how I abhorred the idea of marriage, once! There was Steven altar. But not anymore.
And I can already imagine the reaction of my mother "Bride ? That Donnelly ?
And my answer, seriously: "Just like that. "
" But ... and Steven? "
" I downloaded. "
" Oh, Lord. "
" Mom, do not be so melodramatic. "
" Shannon, dear, stop being melodramatic when I say that it is all a joke. "
So here I am dishing some salacious joke about the fact of having lived with Joseph for months.
laugh again, lying on the lawn.
are modern? I live in America? Here everything is possible! And here I live, with the man I love, facing the difficulties that will come with the awareness of having betrayed my dreams. This tells me
Joseph, while the wind rips at my hands the veil of the pompous mother, and I laugh.
Behold, I have come to journey's end.
Or rather, the beginning .
END
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