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English Hebrew translation [Jul. 28th, 2008|02:22 pm]
Translation journal

morganlafey28

Dear friends,
I need to translate the following title into Hebrew: "In the Grip of the European Spectre"
Thank you


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English-German translation needed. [Apr. 30th, 2007|02:59 pm]
Translation journal
gkate

Hi there,

I need an English-German translator in order to translate a software-related article (~1000 words) at a professional level. Anyone who is native speaker of German language (or know it very well at least) and know English very well (can be a native speaker as well), who is reliable and responsible, who is not a newbie to the Internet and computers, and has no problems with using any software on his or her computer will do it easily. Moreover, this is for the $ reward and if everything turns out great, there is a perspective to receive similar orders from time to time. Basically, you will become a freelancer :) I hope this info might be interested for some people or maybe you personally know someone who might be interested in this. If so, please contact me by e-mail ducharme.cath@gmail.com or simply reply me here (comments are screened!). Thanks for your time! Have a nice day! :) 

Warm regards,
Kate.

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A la claire fontaine (By the clear fountain) [Apr. 26th, 2007|12:17 am]
Translation journal

vorspeise
[Tags|, , , ]

A la claire fontaine is a traditional French folk song. It was played at the very end of The Painted Veil, the new movie adaptation of W. Somerset Maugham's novel with Ed Norton (such an amazing actor) and Naomi Watts, which I watched this past weekend. (I found it such a sad movie, it made me go all teary-eyed, which is saying a lot because I'm usually a cynical b*tch).

I hadn't done any translations in a while, so here is the translation of the song.

The YouTube video clip of the song in the movie is here.



A la claire fontaine
M’en allant promener
J’ai trouvé l’eau si belle
Que je m’y suis baignée

Il y’a longtemps que je t’aime
Jamais je ne t’oublierai

Sous les feuilles d'un chêne
Je me suis fait sécher
Sur la plus haute branche
Le rossignol chantait

Il y’a longtemps que je t’aime
Jamais je ne t’oublierai

Chante, rossignol, chante
Toi qui as le cœur gai
Tu as le cœur à rire
Moi je l’ai à pleurer

Il y’a longtemps que je t’aime
Jamais je ne t’oublierai

C’est pour mon ami Pierre
Qui ne veut plus m’aimer
Pour un bouton de rose
Que je lui refusais

Il y’a longtemps que je t’aime
Jamais je ne t’oublierai

J’ai perdu mon ami
Sans l’avoir mérité
Pour un bouquet de roses
Que je lui refusais

Il y’a longtemps que je t’aime
Jamais je ne t’oublierai
At the clear fountain
While I was walking by
I found the water so lovely
That I went for a bathe

It's been so long that I've loved you
Never will your memory fade

Under the leaves of an oak tree
I dried myself
Upon the highest branch
The nightingale sang

Sing, nightingale, sing
You with your joyous heart
You with your heart full of laughter
Mine is only fit for weeping

It's been so long that I've loved you
Never will your memory fade

It's for my love Pierre
Who desires me no more
For a rose bud
That I refused him

It's been so long that I've loved you
Never will your memory fade

I lost my love
Undeservingly
For a bouquet of roses
That I refused him

It's been so long that I've loved you
Never will your memory fade

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(no subject) [Feb. 10th, 2007|09:25 pm]
Translation journal

theravensclaw
Desperately need the correct grammar for 'I promise' in latin. PLEASE HELP ME!!!!!!! thankyou!
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La Vie C'est Chouette (Jodie Foster song from 1977) [Oct. 5th, 2006|12:20 pm]
Translation journal

vorspeise
15-year-old Jodie Foster singing campy ye-ye/France Gall-ish song in French (released in 1977). What could be more kitsch? (Well, polyester sweaters, linoleum, and chintz, maybe.) The lyrics are quite ridiculous but the song has that fascinating novelty factor to it.

You can see a photo of the vinyl record cover here: http://www.bide-et-musique.com/song/6639.html
You can download the song here: http://rawlikesashimi.blogspot.com/2006/08/jodie-foster-la-vie-cest-chouette.html




La Vie c'est chouette

La vie c'est chouette
Quand on a une amourette
Quand la vie veut dans une île
Quand la vie va dans la ville
La vie c'est chouette
Quand on a une amourette

Life is cool
When you've got a crush
When life is on an island
When life is in the city
Life is cool
When you've got a crush



Y a tant de jours où c'est l'ennui
Tant de réveils aux matins gris
Et l'on rêve d'un amour
Que l'on vivrait un jour
Toute une nuit
Mais avec qui ?
Mais avec qui ?

There are so many boring days
Always waking up to a grey morning
And you dream of a love
That you'd live one of these days
All night long
But with whom?
But with whom?



La vie c'est chouette
Quand on a une amourette
Que l'on soit côté fleur des champs ou côté violence
Un enfant vous dirait que la vie c'est chouette
Quand on a une amourette


Life is cool
When you've got a crush
When you're surrounded by meadow flowers and by violence
A child would tell you that life is cool
When you've got a crush



Y a tant de jour où ça fait mal
Les pages blanches d'un carnet de bal
Et l'on rêve d'un amour
Que l'on vivrait un jour
Toute une nuit
Mais avec qui ?
Toute une nuit
Mais avec qui ?

There are so many days where everything goes wrong
Blank lines on your dance card
And you dream of a love
That you'd live one of these days
All night long
But with whom?
All night long
But with whom?



La vie c'est chouette
Quand on a une amourette
Quand on dessine un cœur percé
Entre les ligne d'un cahier
On a écrit que la vie c'est chouette
Quand on a une amourette


Life is cool
When you've got a crush
When you draw a heart-and-arrow
Between the lines of your exercise book
You write that life is cool
When you've got a crush



Y a tant de nuits sans avenir
Qui se refusent à finir
Et l'on rêve d'un amour
Que l'on vivrait un jour
Toute une vie
Mais avec qui ?
Toute une vie
Mais avec qui ?


There are so many nights without a future
That refuse to end
And you dream of a love
That you'd live one of these days
For a lifetime
But with whom?
For a lifetime
But with whom?



Ha ha
La vie c'est chouette
Hé hé hé ha ha ha
Quand on a une amourette
Ha hu
Dans une île
Dans la ville
La vie c'est chouette
Ah hu
Quand une amourette
Ha hu ha ha


Ha ha
Life is cool
Hé hé hé ha ha ha
When you've got a crush
Ha hu
On an island
In the city
Life is cool
Ah hu
When you've got a crush
Ha hu ha ha
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samuel beckett, le concentrisme, fr→en [Apr. 14th, 2006|08:07 am]
Translation journal

larvatus
I have translated Samuel Beckett’s mock essay Le Concentrisme, hitherto unavailble in English. All comments are welcome.
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今日のおみ籤 (Today's omikuji) [Nov. 11th, 2005|10:48 am]
Translation journal

vorspeise
[Tags|]
[Current Mood |workingworking]
[Current Music |typing noises]

「器には したがいながら いわがねも とおすは水の ちからなりけり」


Utsuniha shitagainagara iwaganemo toosu ha mizu no chikara narikeri

Water will shape itself to a vessel but can still pierce through stone.
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Le Dormeur du Val (Rimbaud) - The Sleeper in the Valley [Nov. 8th, 2005|08:56 pm]
Translation journal

vorspeise
C'est un trou de verdure où chante une rivière
Accrochant follement aux herbes des haillons
D'argent; où le soleil de la montagne fière,
Luit; C'est un petit val qui mousse de rayons.

Un soldat jeune bouche ouverte, tête nue,
Et la nuque baignant dans le frais cresson bleu,
Dort; il est étendu dans l'herbe, sous la nue,
Pale dans son lit vert où la lumière pleut.

Les pieds dans les glaïeuls, il dort. Souriant comme
Sourirait un enfant malade, il fait un somme:
Nature, berce-le chaudement: il a froid.

Les parfums ne font plus frissonner sa narine;
Il dort dans le soleil, la main sur sa poitrine
Tranquille. Il a deux trous rouges au coté droit.

..
rough English translation

There's a green hollow where a river sings
wildly tearing at the silver, tattered grass;
where the sunlight beams down from proud mountain peaks;
there's a small valley where the sun's frothy rays shine.

A young soldier, asleep - his mouth open, his head bare,
fresh blue watercress bathing the nape of his neck -
stretched out on the grass, under the sky
pale on his green bed where the light crys.

Feet in the gladiolas, he sleeps. Smiling as
a sick child would smile, he orders,
Nature, cradle him warmly: he's cold.

Perfumed smells do not sway him;
he sleeps in the sun, hand on his chest,
peacefully. On his right side, there are two red holes.
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mallarmé dixit: [Oct. 12th, 2005|09:34 pm]
Translation journal

larvatus
 
Ses purs ongles très haut dédiant leur onyx,
L’Angoisse, ce minuit, soutient, lampadophore,
Maint rêve vespéral brûlé par le Phénix
Que ne recueille pas de cinéraire amphore

Sur les crédences, au salon vide : nul ptyx
Aboli bibelot d’inanité sonore,
(Car le Maître est allé puiser des pleurs au Styx
Avec ce seul objet dont le Néant s’honore.)

Mais proche la croisée au nord vacante, un or
Agonise selon peut-être le décor
Des licornes ruant du feu contre une nixe,

Elle, défunte nue en le miroir, encor
Que, dans l’oubli fermé par le cadre, se fixe
De scintillations sitôt le septuor.

― Stéphane Mallarmé, 1868-1887


Her pure nails sprung up exalting their onyx,
Anxiety, this midnight, bearing light, sustains,
In twilight many dreams burnt up by the Phoenix
Whose smoky ashes no sepulchral urn contains

Atop the sideboards, in the empty room: no ptyx,
That voided toy of vibrant nonsense, left inside,
(Because the Master’s gone to draw the tears from Styx
With that exclusive object wherein Naught takes pride.)

In vacant north seen through the casement frames, a gold
May agonize at times, within the setting, to behold
Fire-breathing unicorns arrayed against a nix,

She, lifeless naked mirror image, repetition
Whom in the twinkling framed forgetting, is to fix
Through sparkling timed in septet, composition.

― translated by MZ, 1996-2005
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(no subject) [Aug. 18th, 2005|06:34 pm]
Translation journal

oliandy
I translated a few poems by Vladimir Gandelsman, a contemporary Russian author who lives in New York. He uses rhyme beautifully in the original (you will see my attempts to render it without making the poem sound hurdy-gurdy in English).

English is not my native language, and any feedback from native speakers with a fine sensitivity to the language would be terrific.

***
The phenomenal quality of my life, of walking,
the pull force of breathing,
the freezing morning’s empty volume,
and in it, my stepping;

one fall into life, into the slipcover
of skin, into vertical people’s logic, into the discussion over
muscle, and bone, and joint,
that’s accepted on earth at this point—-

and I walk to the bus stop and stand there, cold;
and I can’t help it but squirm
my toes in their boots. All of me is one well-aimed shot
of being, and its one term.

Thank you for your time.
(X-posted)
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