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Extra info for I Malavoglia: The House By the Medlar Tree
Sample text
Un cours d’eau serpentait entre les arbres, qui s’écoulait jusqu’à une rivière en une fine cascade sur les roches creuses. Les nuages s’étaient accumulés, après l’éclair qui déchira le ciel. Ils s’assombrissaient, enveloppant d’une aura noire les étoiles annonciatrices de la nuit. Il se faisait tard sur le jardin avec ses arbres et ses eaux étroites autour du temple, il se faisait tard sur la vallée d’où la fumée s’élevait en volutes, il se faisait tard sur la terre. Mais on pouvait le voir à la faible lueur du crépuscule, dans la pièce vide : il était étendu sans vie sur le sol, les bras en croix, la tête penchée sur l’épaule, le corps recouvert d’un lambeau.
Depuis que nous nous étions connus, elle m’avait cherché, puis je l’avais suivie et je l’avais perdue, croyant chercher Dieu alors que c’était elle que je voulais, de tout mon cœur, de toute mon âme, de toute ma volonté, et de tout mon pouvoir. Mais la femme que j’aimais était là, derrière moi, c’est pourquoi j’ai cédé à l’appel de son nom et son nom est venu sur mes lèvres, Jane. Jane et moi sommes partis, unis en cette nuit, dans la Jérusalem endormie après les combats de la veille. Seuls. Loin de tous, nous étions.
Les Lévites et tous les hommes aux cornes de bélier émettront une sonnerie terrible, début du massacre des Kittim. Manuscrits de Qumran, Rouleau de la guerre. Jane – Jane Rogers, agent de la CIA – avait donc décidé de partir. Mais pourquoi avoir disparu ainsi, sans un mot ? Pourquoi m’avoir laissé ici, sans un mot ? J’avais peur pour elle en même temps que j’avais mal. Elle le devait, me disais-je, pour me rassurer, c’était un ordre de mission et elle ne pouvait pas me le dire, et elle ne voulait pas me dire qu’elle ne le pouvait pas.