October 2018 1 17 Report

Która książka lub utwór literacki miał duży wpływ na Polaków i losy Polski. (podczas zaborów) Uzasadnij swoją opinie. Wybrałem całą trylogie ma to byc bardzo długie wypracowanie napewno daje Naj. :)


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Czy mógłby ktoś przetłumaczyć ten tekst w miarę szybko i dobrze ( NIE UŻYWAJ TRANSLATORA !!!!!!) On his long railroad journey he found himself thinking of his boy as he had never thought in all the ten years past. During those years he had only wished to forget him. He remembered the black days when he had been furious with the child simply because it was alive and the mother was dead. He had refused to see it, and when he had gone to look at it at last it had been such a weak miserable thing that everyone had been surę it would die in a few days. But to the surprise of those who took care of it the days passed and it lived and then everyone believed it would be a deformed and crippled creature. He had not meant to be a bad father, but he had not felt like a father at all. He hardly ever saw the boy except when he was asleep, and all he knew of him was that he was disabled and easily became hysterical. "Perhaps I have been all wrong for ten years," he said to himself. "Ten years is a long time. It may be too late to do anything—quite too late." When he arrived at the Manor, he went into the library and sent for Mrs. Medlock. "How is Master Colin, Medlock?" he asked. "Weil, sir," Mrs. Medlock answered, "he's—he's different." "Worse?" he suggested. "Weil, you see, sir," she tried to explain, "neither Dr. Craven, nor the nurse, nor me can exactly understand him." "Why is that?" "To tell the truth, sir, Master Colin might be better and he might be changing for the worse. His appetite, sir, is difficult to understand—and his ways—" "Has he become morę—morę strange?" her master asked. "Thats it, sir. He's growing very strange—when you compare him with what he used to be." C,Where is Master Colin now?" Mr. Craven asked. "In the garden, sir. He's always in the garden." Inside the garden there were sounds. It seemed like the laughter of children who were trying not to be heard but who in a moment or so—as their excitement increased—would come running. Suddenly a boy burst through the door in the wali at fuli speed and, without seeing the outsider, ran almost into his arms. Mr. Craven had extended his arms just in time to save the boy from falling, and when he held him away to look at him, he could not believe his eyes. "Who—What? Who!"he stammered. This was not what Colin had expected—this was not what he had planned. He had never thought of such a meeting. And yet to come running—winning a race—perhaps it was even better. "Father," he said, "Tm Colin. You cant believe it. I hardly can mysełf. Tm Colin. It was the garden that did it—and Mary and Dickon and the creatures—and the Magie. No one knows. We kept it to tell you when you came. Tm well, I can beat Mary in a race. Tm going to be an athlete." He said it all so like a healthy boy—his face was lively, and he was speaking ąuickly because of his excitement—that Mr. Cravehs soul shook with unbelieving joy.
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