No holds barred

'You are the only one I am rude to' 

she said to me as we drove back from Sainsbury's

'I know' I said rather grumpily and not to be outdone in this plain speaking contest added:

 'You are very naive and I exploit you all the time, but I try to do it in small measures so that you don't notice'

'I've noticed' she said with a curt little laugh as I reversed into the drive.

That was that - as arms laden with groceries, we descended into domestic chaos and the little pingpong rally of words ended unceremoniously.

Later that night as I tossed and turned in the grips of a fever, she sat up and put my head in her lap till I went back to sleep again.

It sure is a good thing that she thinks I only exploit her in small measures.

My rude little girl.

Lost in translation

It is difficult to know what a writer thinks anyway, but more so when he thinks in a different language. The subtle subtexts and implied meanings of words, often seeped in colloquialism or historical, political or even folklore references are easily lost in translation, trampled underfoot in an effort to be either academically accurate, inappropriately verbose or unnecessarily ornate.
 
I came across this while surfing for a poem as seen below in its original French:
 Quel dieu, quel moissonneur de l'éternel été,
Avait, en s'en allant, négligemment jeté
Cette faucille d'or dans le champ des étoiles. 

 (Victor Hugo; Boöz Endormi - Boaz sleeps)
 
Having (not) studied French for two years before medical school (sadly I did not quite see the benefit at that time, so simply fooled around rather than pay attention), I looked up various web versions which seemed woefully inadequate: 

What God, what reaper of eternal summer,
So carelessly in leaving her had thrown
That golden sickle in the field of stars.

What summer harvester through times unsown,
So carelessly in leaving her had thrown
That golden sickle into the field of stars.

What God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars

What God
of the eternal summer passing dropped
his golden scythe there in that field of stars

What God, what harvester so carelessly had thrown
His golden sickle on that field of stars, and gone?

What God, what harvester of eternal summer
Had, in going away, negligently thrown
This golden sickle in the field of stars

I tried copy/pasting the original text straight into Google translator:
what God
what reaper of eternal summer
had, as he went, carelessly thrown
this golden sickle in the field of stars

... before settling on my version (stolen from various above):

which God
who reaped this endless summer
had, in leaving, so carelessly dropped

his golden sickle
in the field of stars

mais pourquoi? I hear you ask

 Admittedly another pointless exercise.