TRANSLATE THE FOLLOWING TEXT INTO ENGLISH:
3. “În miercurea aceea de iunie am fost abă tut,
fără nici un motiv, toată ziua. Mă deșteptasem de
dimineață cu o neliniște vagă în suflet şi cu un
simță mâ nt de apă sare plumburie. Pe urmă , din
câ nd în câ nd, aveam senzația că o mâ nă
imaterială îmi strâ nge inima ca într-un cleşte şi
mă cuprindea o spaimă mare ca şi cum o
primejdie se pregă tea de undeva să se
nă pustească asupră -mi.
Mă sileam să nu iau seama, încercam să vorbesc
mai mult ca de obicei, să fiu vesel şi nepă să tor. În
zadar. Acul veninos mi se împlâ nta tot mai adâ nc
în conştiinţă .
Eram profesor. Deşi împlinisem 35 de ani, îmi
pă strasem intactă pasiunea pentru meseria ce-mi
alesesem. Mă socoteam, în sine-mi şi în taină , un
fel de mic apostol al lumină rii neamului. Au trecut
cinci ani de atunci şi-mi dau seama câ t de naiv
eram şi de ridicol. Intram cu emoţie la clasă . Îmi
iubeam elevii întocmai ca pe copilaşii mei, unul
de zece şi celă lalt de opt…În miercurea aceea,
poate întâ ia oară în cariera mea, am fost distrat la
catedră , plictisit, nervos. Ascultâ nd ră spunsurile
elevilor - eram în epoca examină rilor finale –
mintea mea că uta alte explicaţii: de unde şi ce
rost să aibă tulburarea asta? Ş i fiincă nu gă seam
nimic, mă ră coream bruftuluind pe bieţii şcolari,
îngroziţi şi altfel de emoţiile examenului.” (Liviu
Rebreanu – Nuvele, 1991)
On that Wednesday in June, I was
depressed/unhappy/distressed/down for no
reason/without any obvious reason, all day. I had
awoken/woke in the morning with a/some vague
anxiety in my soul and a feeling of gray/leaden
pressure. Then, from time to time/at times, I had
the feeling that an immaterial hand was
gripping/clutching my heart like a pair of pliers,
and I was seized with a great fear/fright/terror
as if a/some danger was preparing/lurking/lying
in wait somewhere to attack me/turn on
me/strike me.
I forced myself to ignore it. I tried to talk more
than usual/I would normally do/usually, to be
cheerful and careless. In vain/It was all in vain/it
didn’t work. The venomous needle was
penetrating/piercing/sinking deeper and
deeper/more and more deeply into my
conscience.
I was a teacher. Although I was 35 years
old/though in my mid-thirties, I kept my passion
intact for the job I had chosen/my passion for the
job/profession I had chosen stayed the same/was
undented. I secretly considered myself/ within
myself and in secret/in a discreet way, a kind of
little apostle of the enlightenment of the nation.
Five years have passed since then and I can only
realize now how naive and ridiculous/foolish I
was. I entered the classroom with
emotion/excitedly. I loved my students just like
my own children, one of ten and the other of
eight…
On that Wednesday, perhaps for the first time in
my career, I was distracted in class, bored, and
angry.
In/while listening to the students' answers – it
was the time of the final exams - my mind was
looking for other explanations: where was it from
and what caused this disturbance/state of
TRANSLATE THE FOLLOWING TEXT INTO ENGLISH:

mind/distressing feeling?
And since I couldn't find anything/any
explanation to it, I was blowing off steam/cooled
down by rushing/telling off the poor
schoolchildren, who were already terrified and
nervous because of the exam/emotions of the
exam.