- Joined
- Mar 27, 2013
- Messages
- 149
This is something I actually wrote in a Portuguese test, we had to write a piece of diary where the narratoe would remember someone dear who they never got to say goodbye to, and what he would say to that someone. I thought: instead of writing some depressing thing saying goodbye to a family person (there were many people crying during that test), let's see how I can stretch my imagination in this stressful situation, and this came out, by far one of my favorite "stories". I tried and translated it, hope it's good enough. Feedback apreciated, as always.
Diary of a Tree by the Side of the Road
Sunday, October 20th, 2020
Another day. The wind blows, the sun rises and sets, nothing more. Here, by this road I have stayed for over one hundred years. Here I’ve seen children grow, houses rise and fall. There was a time where all of this was but farming land as far as the eye could see. Now, the man has come, built, destroyed, molded the landscape, and I am still here and will remain for a couple more years.
Despite all I have lived, there is still one question in my mind. I wonder: what happened to that leaf? Her and many others. There’s so much I’d like to tell her. I wished to tell her how everything changed. To tell her every word that the wind has whispered to me about the world. To show her this swing that now hangs from my branches. To tell her the countless stories of those that now rest beneath my roots. But I can’t. She’s been gone for a long time, a beautiful, sweet thankless creature taken by the Autumn Brise. She and many others. I wish she would tell me how it is to be free, like the swallows that come and go, and the cars that pass, never to come back, the same way she went and never came back. So much, that I’d like to say and know. But I can’t. She’s been gone for a long time. She and many others.
iamxaxas
Diary of a Tree by the Side of the Road
Sunday, October 20th, 2020
Another day. The wind blows, the sun rises and sets, nothing more. Here, by this road I have stayed for over one hundred years. Here I’ve seen children grow, houses rise and fall. There was a time where all of this was but farming land as far as the eye could see. Now, the man has come, built, destroyed, molded the landscape, and I am still here and will remain for a couple more years.
Despite all I have lived, there is still one question in my mind. I wonder: what happened to that leaf? Her and many others. There’s so much I’d like to tell her. I wished to tell her how everything changed. To tell her every word that the wind has whispered to me about the world. To show her this swing that now hangs from my branches. To tell her the countless stories of those that now rest beneath my roots. But I can’t. She’s been gone for a long time, a beautiful, sweet thankless creature taken by the Autumn Brise. She and many others. I wish she would tell me how it is to be free, like the swallows that come and go, and the cars that pass, never to come back, the same way she went and never came back. So much, that I’d like to say and know. But I can’t. She’s been gone for a long time. She and many others.
iamxaxas