Translating Nouzha Fassi Fihri's La Baroudeuse: A Case Study in ...

"Don't worry about it. I had my share of happiness. Sharif was a perfect
replacement. Better than that, your perfect double."
"Stop being cynical and say no more bad things about the poor man. If
anyone is to blame, I am. I was cowardly. I admit it. But life is fickle and hasn't
been kind to me either. Far away from you, I lived in hell!"
He changed his position. His arm could no longer support his body which
had grown heavy with sorrow.
Pain welled up in his heart to the beat of his blood. Across his face flowed
waves of anger against himself.
Suddenly worried, seeing the sorrow and pain she had awakened, Lalla
Kenza became agitated and wanted to master her thoughts and turn their course.
She tried to speak of happy, carefree things. She desperately searched for
the memory of a joyful event, a story, a clever thought, and found nothing but a
long tunnel that relentlessly brought her back to her fugitive happiness. Like a
child, pushing out a trembling lip, making a pitiful face, she began to cry and then
to laugh.
"Anyway, our honeymoon was certainly wonderful!"
He smiled at her, and she felt rewarded.
Suddenly very tired, having spent all their remaining energy during this
night of memories, the Kenza and Moulay Ali went off to their rooms to sleep,
murmuring prayers that the Almighty might finally put an end to their torments.
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