منتديات الباحثين في الدراسات الخاصة بمترجمي العربية وتأهيل المترجمين

Forums for Scholars and Researchers in Arabic Translation and Interpreting Studies and Training

The Tears - Arabic-English Translation

Collapse
X
 
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • The Tears - Arabic-English Translation

    Brief: This is an excerpt from Al-Manfaluti's العبرات (The Tears ). The writer's descriptive and metaphoric language adds to the text. You are expected to maintain the emotional effect on the reader so that this text can be published as an English version.


    سكنَ الغرفة العليا من المنزل المجاور لمنزلي من عهد قريب فتًى في التاسعة عشرة أو العشرين من عمره، وأحسب أنه طالبٌ من طلبة المدارس العليا أو الوسطى في مصر، فقد كنت أراه من نافذة غرفة مكتبي، وكانت على كثبٍ من بعض نوافذ غرفته، فأرى أمامي فتًى شاحبًا، نحيلًا، منقبضًا، جالسًا إلى مصباح منير في إحدى زوايا الغرفة، ينظر في كتاب، أو يكتب في دفتر، أو يستظهر قطعةً، أو يُعيد درسًا، فلم أكن أحفل بشيءٍ من أمره. حتى عُدتُ إلى منزلي منذ أيامٍ بعد منتصف ليلةٍ قَرَّةٍ من ليالي الشتاء، فدخلت غرفةَ مكتبي لبعض الشئون، فأشرفتُ عليه، فإذا هو جالسٌ جِلسته تلك أمام مصباحه، وقد أكبَّ بوجهه على دفترٍ منشور بين يديه على مكتبه، فظننتُ أنه لما ألمَّ به من تعب الدرس وآلام السهر، قد عَبِئَتْ بجفنيه سِنةٌ من النوم، فأعجلته من الذهاب إلى فراشه، وسقطت به مكانه، فما رُمْتُ مكاني حتى رفع رأسه، فإذا عيناه مخضلَّتان من البكاء، وإذا صفحة دفتره التي كان مكبٍّا عليها قد جرى دمعه فوقها، فمحا من كلماتها ما محا، ومشى ببعض مِدادها إلى بعض، ثم لم يلبث أن عاد إلى نفسه، فتناول قلمه، ورجع إلى شأنه الذي كان فيه. فأحزنني أن أرى في ظلمة ذلك الليل وسكونه هذا الفتى البائس المسكين منفردًا بنفسه في غرفة عارية باردة! لا يتقي فيها عادية البرد بدثارٍ ولا نارٍ، يشكو همًّا من هموم الحياة أو رُزءًا من أرزائها، قبل أن يبلغ سن الهموم والأحزان، من حيث لا يجد بجانبه مواسيًا ولا معينًا.

    وقلت: "لا بد أن يكون وراء هذا المنظر الضارع الشاحب نفسٌ قريحةٌ معذبةٌ تذوب بين أضلاعه ذوبًا، فيتهافت لها جسمه تهافت الخِباء المقوَّض." فلم أزل واقفًا مكاني لا أبرحه، حتى رأيته قد طوى كتابه وفارق مجلسه، وأوى إلى فراشه، فانصرفتُ إلى مخدعي، وقد مضى الليل إلا أقله، ولم يبقَ من سواده في صفحة هذا الوجود إلا بقايا أسطر يوشك أن يمتد إليها لسان الصباح فيأتي عليها.

    Last edited by Hamidou Saleh; 08-03-2021, 11:52 PM.

  • #2
    The upstairs room of the house next door was recently let out to a 19- or 20- year young man who I believe was a student at high school or college in Cairo. I used to see him through my study window which was close enough to his. Heavyhearted, feeble, and deathly pale, he was sitting in the corner of a dimly lit room, looking at a book, writing down notes, memorizing or revising a lesson. I did not care, however, until a few days ago when I came back home after 12 pm on a cold winter’s night; and, having entered my study to do some stuff, looked at his room. He was there sitting his usual way with his face down on a book. I thought, then, he was afflicted by so much fatigue and pain out of studying and staying up all night that drowsiness overtook his eyes and he surrendered to sleep. My eyes were still on him when he looked up with his own filled with tears that fell on the page of the book, erasing some words and fusing others. It was not long before he recollected himself and he picked his pen to resume what he was doing. A feeling of melancholy descended on me on seeing, in a bare and thus cold room, such a young man sitting by himself with no blanket nor a fireside; suffering a life burden or a disaster that befell him and that he was too young to endure. He was in all of this with nobody standing by to lean on or to find solace in.
    “There seems to be a wounded and tortured heart breaking into pieces and letting this body fall apart as a tent in an earthquake,” I said to myself, standing still until he folded his book and went to bed, and so did I. Night was almost gone, and only a few lines of darkness were soon to be erased by dawn.
    Last edited by Hamidou Saleh; 08-05-2021, 12:36 PM.

    Comment


    • Mohammed
      Mohammed commented
      Editing a comment
      Brilliant!

  • #3
    By Vicky


    Brief: This is an excerpt from Al-Manfaluti's العبرات (The Tears ). The writer's descriptive and metaphoric language adds to the text. You are expected to maintain the emotional effect on the reader so that this text can be published as an English version.

    سكنَ الغرفة العليا من المنزل المجاور لمنزلي من عهد قريب فتًى في التاسعة عشرة أو العشرين من عمره، وأحسب أنه طالبٌ من طلبة المدارس العليا أو الوسطى في مصر، فقد كنت أراه من نافذة غرفة مكتبي، وكانت على كثبٍ من بعض نوافذ غرفته، فأرى أمامي فتًى شاحبًا، نحيلًا، منقبضًا، جالسًا إلى مصباح منير في إحدى زوايا الغرفة، ينظر في كتاب، أو يكتب في دفتر، أو يستظهر قطعةً، أو يُعيد درسًا، فلم أكن أحفل بشيءٍ من أمره. حتى عُدتُ إلى منزلي منذ أيامٍ بعد منتصف ليلةٍ قَرَّةٍ من ليالي الشتاء، فدخلت غرفةَ مكتبي لبعض الشئون، فأشرفتُ عليه، فإذا هو جالسٌ جِلسته تلك أمام مصباحه، وقد أكبَّ بوجهه على دفترٍ منشور بين يديه على مكتبه، فظننتُ أنه لما ألمَّ به من تعب الدرس وآلام السهر، قد عَبِئَتْ بجفنيه سِنةٌ من النوم، فأعجلته من الذهاب إلى فراشه، وسقطت به مكانه، فما رُمْتُ مكاني حتى رفع رأسه، فإذا عيناه مخضلَّتان من البكاء، وإذا صفحة دفتره التي كان مكبٍّا عليها قد جرى دمعه فوقها، فمحا من كلماتها ما محا، ومشى ببعض مِدادها إلى بعض، ثم لم يلبث أن عاد إلى نفسه، فتناول قلمه، ورجع إلى شأنه الذي كان فيه. فأحزنني أن أرى في ظلمة ذلك الليل وسكونه هذا الفتى البائس المسكين منفردًا بنفسه في غرفة عارية باردة! لا يتقي فيها عادية البرد بدثارٍ ولا نارٍ، يشكو همًّا من هموم الحياة أو رُزءًا من أرزائها، قبل أن يبلغ سن الهموم والأحزان، من حيث لا يجد بجانبه مواسيًا ولا معينًا.
    وقلت: "لا بد أن يكون وراء هذا المنظر الضارع الشاحب نفسٌ قريحةٌ معذبةٌ تذوب بين أضلاعه ذوبًا، فيتهافت لها جسمه تهافت الخِباء المقوَّض." فلم أزل واقفًا مكاني لا أبرحه، حتى رأيته قد طوى كتابه وفارق مجلسه، وأوى إلى فراشه، فانصرفتُ إلى مخدعي، وقد مضى الليل إلا أقله، ولم يبقَ من سواده في صفحة هذا الوجود إلا بقايا أسطر يوشك أن يمتد إليها لسان الصباح فيأتي عليها.


    There lived a young man who recently moved to an upper room next door. He looked to be nineteen, maybe twenty. Presuming that he was a student from highschool/college in Cairo. Too often I found myself observing him from the window parallel to my room, appearing gaunt, pale and lanky in stature. Huddled beside the dimly lit lamp in the corner of the room. Sometimes he was seen studying from his book, or writing notes, other times revising a piece of paper vehemently. I had no apparent reason to intrude on his private affairs, until one night, being the coldest night in winter. Where after returning home past midnight, I headed to my studyroom to finish some work and noticed his dim lamp light with him besides it as usual with a book in hand. I presumed him to be sleep deprived and exhausted from the excessive studying, his eyes fading in and out of sleep so much so that I expected him to pass out then and there. Before long I witnessed a trail of tears streaming from the poor soul’s eyes, splashing on his book and smudging the words, rendering them unreadable. It was not long before he grabbed his pen and resumed his study again. A rush of pity overtook me seeing the destitute confined to a room with no warmth or comfort. Surely, he was too young to endure this type of misfortune, facing this alone with no companionship. “It appears there is a tortured and wounded heart made fragile like a candle in the wind” I mumbled to myself, remaining observant until he packed his book away turning in for bed, as I did soon after. With dawn approaching as the last few beads of darkness receded ever more.
    Attached Files
    Last edited by Vicky; 08-08-2021, 02:07 AM.

    Comment


    • Touria
      Touria commented
      Editing a comment
      Dear Vicky,
      What I liked more about your translation was the fact that you were quite creative.
      You tried to sound as natural as possible and it came out very good. I felt as though it was originally written by a native.
      Some of the sentences/words that I liked most are just to name a few: He looked to be 19, maybe 20.
      Gunt, pale and lanky in stature.
      A trail of tears stream.
      With no companionship.
      His eyes fading in and out .
      Smudging the words

      Overall, you did very well.
      Cheers!

  • #4
    Brief: This is an excerpt from Al-Manfaluti's العبرات (The Tears ). The writer's descriptive and metaphoric language adds to the text. You are expected to maintain the emotional effect on the reader so that this text can be published as an English version.

    I noticed a 19- or 20-years old guy who rented the upper room in the next-door house lately and from his looks, I assumed he was a high school or college in Cairo. I used to look through my study room window overlooking his room and all I could see was a pale thin dispirited young man sitting near a light in one of the rooms corners gazing at a book or may be writing on a writing pad or remembering a piece or revising a lesson and to be frank this never bothered me.
    One cold night, I returned to my house well after midnight then went to my study room for some business. I practiced my usual habit of looking through the window and what did I see? I saw him sitting in his usual position in front of this light gazing at the writing pad he was holding. This minute, I assumed he surrendered to sleep while sitting in his same chair. I presumed that fatigue from study and having to stay awake were the reason. However, to my surprise, my presumption failed me as he raised his head with tears gushing from his eyes wetting his writing pad erasing some of what he wrote. It did not take him long till he got hold of himself held his pen and resumed what he was doing.
    How saddened I was to see this poor miserable young man all alone in a cold and bare room without a cover or fireplace to keep him warm. Also I was sad to feel he was surrounded with the burdens of life before reaching the age of worries and sorrow with no one to comfort or support him.

    What came to mind this minute was the feeling that there must be a sore, tormented soul behind this pale appearance which his body can hardly bear. I stood stationary deep in my thoughts till I saw him move from his seat heading to his bed and only then I did the same. In the meanwhile, night was ending, and trace of light was shyly but surely appearing.
    Last edited by Taroub Al Aref; 08-05-2021, 10:16 PM.

    Comment


    • #5
      Recently, there was a young man in 19 or 20 years rented the upstairs room of my neighbour’s house. I figured he was a student of upper or middle schools in Egypt. I was seeing him from the window of my office room which it was very close to some of his window’s room. I saw a pale, skinny, private figure boy in front of me, sitting near a lightbulb in one of the corners of the room, looking at a book, or writing on a notebook, revising a paragraph or memorising a lesson, so I was not paying any attention to him.

      After a chilly midnight of winter nights, I went back to my house . I walked into my office room for a few things, and I looked at him, he was sitting his habitual position in front of his lamp, and he had fall asleep butting his head over the pages of his book between his hands over the desk, I thought that he had been tired of the lesson so he did not go to his bed, suddenly he raised his head with his eyes filled of tears, the page of his notebook also filled of tears so they erased some of the written words and the ink ran in the with others. Then he took his pen and returned back to his habitual position.

      I was sad to see this poor young man alone in the dark of that night in a cold empty room, he was not light a fire for heating or even covered himself with a blanket, complaining one of the life’s concerns before getting in the age of sadness and without a consoling.
      Last edited by Nihad; 08-09-2021, 08:19 PM.

      Comment


      • #6
        Bits and pieces:
        I cannot really know how to translate this text, but I can help with some alternatives, if you may think about them:

        - I did not give any thought to him until a few days ago, after spending a cold winter's night away from home.
        - My attention was drawn to him when I entered my office, and beheld he was sitting, facing the lamp, with his face on the notebook resting in his hands on his desk.
        - A slumber had taken hold of him
        - I thought it was fatigue from studying and staying late that finally made him crash. OR He might have finally slept due to the fatigue of studying and the pain of staying up late, or at least, that was what I thought. OR Perhaps he finally fell asleep after studying for so long and staying up so late.
        - It was not until he raised his head that I realized his eyes were dripping with tears.


        Comment

        What's Going On

        Collapse

        There are currently 84201 users online. 39 members and 84162 guests.

        Most users ever online was 84,201 at 08:37 AM on Today.

        About us
        The Arabic Interpreters Forums is a place for trainees and professionals to meet and discuss issues related to their self-development.
        Follow us
        Privacy Policy
        BACK TO TOP
        Working...
        X