[{"id": 45684, "created": "2015-03-08T17:05:24.337444", "project_id": 128, "task_id": 29238, "user_id": 427, "user_ip": null, "finish_time": "2015-03-08T17:05:24.337470", "timeout": null, "calibration": null, "external_uid": null, "media_url": null, "info": {"other": "\"I looked like a simple flower\" - literally \"I looked like a whitlow grass\", probably meaning small, insignificant, skinny.", "translation": "The apple\r\n\r\nThat one can be happy about an apple and be angry about it without eating it, I had never known. That I only learned when I, in my early boyhood - my toetips wanted to touch youth's threshold with caution - saw a girl which lay in a garden in the neighbourhood daily in the sun. A child of the holidays, creature of vacation, so it seemed, travelled here and come to visit from far away, the girl from the unknown, so to say. She was probably sixteen, beautiful like everything unreachable, every day she wore a fresh dress, speckled with flowers all around, maidenhood in person. I was only fourteen, so Edith, that was her name, was too mature for me, too bad. But if we had been of the same age, I would have taken different decisions than those which I conceded with my fourteen years. As an onlooker, I at best called over a good morning from garden to garden, I did not ask for a conversation, and even less for special signs of neighbourly friendship. Edith read sugary novels, I glowed, lying on my bell, over Winnetou's adventures. Still, one day, I began more tender relations with the neighbour. She had scented the many flowers growing in our garden. Bindweeds, mallows, alfalfa, also blue monkshood and erica. Edith supposed: \"Do you want to trade? Give me flowers, I'll throw you an apple.\" The deal was done. But no, how I am wrong, it was never a deal to me: with a throbbing head I picked the flowers. Merciful father, my heart all but burst when I handed her the wild bouquet through the bars and received for it not only an apple green as a siskin, but also a hand-shake; and with it, a smile. At home, I placed the apple, the dainty, in a drawer of my commode, and the vow to own the fruit but never ever eat it. One should weigh the difference. Every morning, I shyly fingered the gift, as well as every noon and evening. I smelled the odor of many delights, but otherwise it remained between me and Edith like Plato's ancient wisdom, it was delightful. Until one Sunday something happened which was as natural as well as unkind. It was getting autumnal, the wind tasted cold in one's mouth. Edith wore, as swift as her feet carried her, a fur camisole, ladylike and noble. Three young gentlemen had come to visit, and not even young men, but young gentlemen, even students, as I thought to recognize. Cousins or the like. These lads wore long trousers, banded collars and checkered neckties - I, on the contrary, looked like a simple flower in my half stockings against those flamingos and cranes. Edith, however, this half-fledged turkey, flirted with them like a monkey. I was seething. There was this fence, erected like prison bars, and on the other side the fauns played blindman's buff, and however caught my Edith was allowed to kiss her - loudly audible - on both cheeks. Just imagine. - Even worse: the girl did not know me one bit during one hour. Only then, when Edith realized the pale sadness on my face, she whispered something to the students. The scoundrels laughed bawlingly and pointed their fingers at me\u2026 I took my decisions: I ran home, my legs as valiantly as my muscles allowed. Edith would  be amazed when I returned with the apple to throw this delight, blissfully kept, wordlessly and sharply across the fence, the heinous. Panting, with a twitching mouth - people, my soul burned like the every-thirsty Tantalos - I ripped open the drawer, groped in it, blind with pain, searched, scratched, groped - the apple was gone. The sanctified gift of my betrayed heart had disappeared. My mother came, looked at me, said something which immediately calmed my frantic panic, although the woman had no idea of my secrets. She said: \"Are you looking for that apple? Boy, it was rotten, and there was a worm in it. So I threw it out. Wait, till there will be more beautiful ones\u2026\u2026\u2026..\"", "transcription": "Der Apfel[;]Dass man sich ueber einen Apfel freuen oder aergern kann, ohne ihn zu[;]verzehren, hatte ich nimmer gewusst. Davon erfuhr ich erst, als ich in fruehen[;]Knabenjahren - die Fussspitzen wollten die Schwellen des Juenglingsalter mit Vor-[;]sicht beruehren - ein Maedchen sah, dass im Garten der Nachbarschaft taeglich in[;]der Sonne lag. Ein Ferienkind, ein Geschoepf des Urlaubs, so schien es, herge-[;]reist und zu Besuch gekommen von weiter Ferne, das Maedchen aus der Fremde so-[;]zusagen. Sie war wohl sechzehn Jahre alt, schoen wie alles Unerreichbare, jeden[;]Tag trug sie ein frisches Kleid, rundum mit Blumen betupft, die Jungfraeulich-[;]keit leibhaftig.[;]Ich zaehlte erst vierzehn, also war Edith, so hiess sie, zu reif fuer[;]mich, schade. Doch waeren wir gleichen Alters gewesen, haette ich kaum andere[;]Entschluesse gefasst als jene, die ich meinen vierzehn Jahren einraeumte.[;]Als Zaungast rief ich allenfalls den Morgengruss von Garten zu Garten, um ein[;]Gespraech bat ich nicht, noch weniger um besondere Zeichen nachbarlicher Freund-[;]lichkeit. Edith las in zuckrigen Romanen, ich gluehte baeuchlings ueber Win-[;]netous Abenteuern.[;]Dennoch kam ich mit der Nachbarin eines Tages in zartere Beziehungen.[;]Sie hatte gewittert, dass in unserem Garten viele Blumen wuchsen. Winden, Mal-[;]ven, Luzernen, auch der blaue Ritterhut und Glockenheide. Edith meinte: \"Wollen[;]wir tauschen? Gib mir Blumen, ich werfe dir einen Apfel.\"[;]Das Geschaeft kam zustande. Nein, wie irre ich, nie und nimmer war es[;]mir ein Handel: Ich pflueckte pochenden Schaedels die Blumen. Barmherziger Va-[;]ter, mir platzte das Herz, als ich den wilden Strauss durchs Gitter reichte[;]und dafuer nicht nur den zeisiggruenen Apfel empfing, auch einen Haendedruck,[;]dazu ein Laecheln.[;]Daheim legte ich den Apfel, den holden, in die Kommodenschublade, und[;]den Schwur, die Frucht wohl zu besitzen, doch niemals einzuverleiben. Man waege[;]den Unterschied. Jeden Morgen geschah ein scheues Betasten der Spende, alle[;]Mittage und Abende nicht minder. Ich sog den Ruch vieler Wonnen, sonst aber[;]blieb es zwischen Edith und mir bei der alten Weisheit Platons, es war beglueckend.[;]Bis eines Sonntags sich etwas ereignete, was ebenso natuerlich wie[;]lieblos war. Es hatte geherbstelt, der Wind glitt kuehl durch den Mund. Edith[;]trug, so leicht die Fuesse trabten, ein Jaeckchen aus Pelz, damenhaft und nobel.[;]Drei junge Herren waren zu Besuch gekommen, und nicht einmal junge Maenner,[;]sondern junge Herren, sogar Studenten, wie ich zu erkennen glaubte. Vettern[;]oder aehnliche Figuren. Die Kerle hatten lange Hosen, Stehkragen und karierte[;]Schlipse - ich machte mich im Gewirk meiner Wadenstruempfe wie ein Hungerbluem-[;]chen gegen derlei Flamingos und Kraniche aus. Edith aber, die halbfluegge Pute,[;]liess sich scharmutzieren wie ein Aeffchen.[;]Ich kochte. Da stand nun der Zaun, aufgerichtet gleich Gefaengnis-[;]gittern, drueben spielten die Faune Blindekuh, wer meine Edith haschte, der durf-[;]te sie - laut hoerbar - auf beide Wangen schmatzen. Man denke. - [;]Nicht genug: Das Maedchen kannte mich eine Stunde lang mit keiner Wim-[;]per. Dann erst, als Edith der blassen Trauer meines Gesichtes inne ward, fluester-[;]te sie den Studenten etwas zu. Die Kanaillen lachten plaerrend auf und wiesen[;]mit den Fingern nach mir...[;]Ich fasste meine Entschluesse: Nach Hause rannte ich, die Beine gaben[;]wacker her, was das Muskelzeug vermochte. Edith wuerde sich wundern, wenn ich[;]mit dem Apfel zurueckkam, um ihr die heilig gehuetete Wonne an den Kopf zu schleu-[;]dern, wortlos und scharf ueber den Zaun, den ruchlosen.[;]Keuchend, zuckenden Mundes - Leute, meine Seele brannte wie der ewig-[;]duerstende Tantalos - riss ich die Kommode auf, blind vor Schmerz griff ich in[;]die Lade, suchte, scharrte, tastete - [;]Der Apfel war verschwunden. Das Weihgeschenk meines verratenen Gemuets[;]hatte sich davongemacht.[;]Meine Mutter kam hinzu, sah mich an, meinte etwas, was mich der rasenden[;]Panik sofort enthob, obwohl die Frau keinen Hauch der Geheimnisse ahnte. Sie sprach:[;]\"Du suchst den Apfel? Junge, faul war er schon und hatte einen Wurm. Da habe ich[;]ihn fortgeworfen. Warte, bis es schoenere gibt\u2026\u2026\u2026.\""}}, {"id": 48900, "created": "2015-03-25T16:13:54.062325", "project_id": 128, "task_id": 29238, "user_id": 877, "user_ip": null, "finish_time": "2015-03-25T16:13:54.062353", "timeout": null, "calibration": null, "external_uid": null, "media_url": null, "info": {"other": "", "translation": "The Apple\r\n\r\n[;] I never knew that you could be happy or cross with an apple without eating it.  That I learned only when in my early boyhood - feet only hesitantly and carefully touching the threshold of teenage years - I saw a girl who was daily sunning herself in the neighbour's garden.  A  holiday child, a creature of leisure, so it seemed, arriving here from far away, a girl from foreign shores so to speak.  She was around sixteen years old, beautiful as all things unattainable; each day she was wearing a fresh dress patterned all over with flowers, virginity incarnate.\r\n\r\n[;] I was only fourteen therefore Edith, that was her name, was too mature for me, a pity.  Though even if we had been of the same age I would hardly have made different decisions than those, I could make at my age.  At the most as a looker-on I used to call a morning greeting from garden to garden, I did not seek a conversation and even less any signs of neighbourly friendliness.  Edith was reading sugary novels, I, lying on my stomach, was glowing with Winnetou's adventures.\r\n\r\n[;] Despite that one day a closer relationship developed with the neighbour.  She had discovered that many flowers  grew in our garden. Wild Convolvolus, Luzerne, blue Delphinium and  Erica bells.  Edith said, 'Shall we swap?  You give me flowers and I will throw you an apple.'\r\n\r\n[;] The deal was made.  No, how I am mistaken, never, never was it a deal:  with a hot head I was  picking flowers.  Merciful God, my heart was bursting when I passed the bunch of wild flowers through the fence and as a reward not only received the green apple, but a smile and handshake as well.\r\n\r\n\r\n[;] At home I put the precious apple in a drawer of our tall-boy, swearing that I would possess the apple but never consume it.  Consider the difference.  Every morning I shyly touched the present, as well as every lunch time and evening.  I smelled the scent of many delights, but otherwise all was unchanged between Edith and me, it was blissful according to wise old Plato.\r\n\r\n[;] Until one Sunday something happened that was as natural as unkind.  It felt like autumn, the wind was gliding cool over one's mouth.  Edith, feet running lightly shod was wearing a little fur jacket, ladylike and elegant.  Three young gentlemen had come to visit, not only young men but young gentlemen, students even as I seemed to discern.  Cousins or something like that.  The chaps wore long trousers, stiff collars and chequered ties - In my knitted knee high stockings I felt like a wall flower  compared to those cranes and flamingos.  Yet Edith, the half-grown goose, allowed herself to be fawned over as a little ape.\r\n\r\n[;] I was boiling.  There was the fence standing like  prison barriers and on the other                                                        \r\n                                                                 2\r\nside these fauns were playing 'blind-man's bluff', and the one catching her was allowed - very audibly - to kiss her on both cheeks.  Consider that! -\r\n\r\n[;] That was not all.  For one whole hour the girl did not acknowledge me with as much as an eye blink.  Only afterwards, beholding the sadness in my pale face, she whispered something to the students.  The villains laughed out loud and pointed their fingers at me....\r\n\r\n[;] I made my resolutions: as fast as my legs would carry me I ran home.  Edith would get a surprise when I returned with the apple, throwing this carefully hoarded treasure forcefully, silently at her head over the infamous fence.\r\n\r\n[;] Panting, with twitching mouth - guys, my soul burnt as the eternally thirsting Tantalus' - I tore open the drawer, blind with pain I felt, groped, fumbled....  \r\n\r\n[;]  The apple had gone.  The sacred gift of my betrayed soul had disappeared.\r\n\r\n[;] My mother came in and looking at me said something, thus immediately  assuaging my wild panic, even though the woman had not the slightest idea of my secret.  She said, 'You are looking for the apple?  Son, it was rotten and already had a worm.  Therefore I threw it away.  Wait until there are nicer ones available....'", "transcription": "na"}}]