Cada uno va a traducir una frase de tres
o cuatro líneas (podéis elegir cualquier frase que os guste o una sea especialmente
difícil o interesante de la novela). Poner en el blog la frase pero SOLAMENTE en inglés el
viernes por la mañana.
Entonces cada uno va a corregir la frase
en inglés del OTRO para que suene bien en inglés (SIN ver el español). El viernes
por noche poner en el blog la corrección de la traducción del otro y vuestra
frase original en español.
It was not easy for her to picture Florentino Ariza as he was then, and much less to imagine that that reserved boy, so helpless in the rain, was the same moth-eaten old crock that had planted himself in front of her without any consideration of her condition, without the slightest respect for her grief, and had seared her soul under a scorching flame that hindered her every breath.
ReplyDeleteLamento escribir tarde, me olvidé!
ReplyDeleteThe mortal fury of the first impact remained whole after his symbolic cremation, and grew and branched out the less she felt she able to dominate it. Indeed: the spaces in memory where she'd successfully appeased the memories of her dead husband were taken, little by little, by an inevitable meadow of poppies housing the memories of Florentino Ariza.
It wasn't easy for her to see Florentino Ariza as he had been; much less to picture that this senile crock who had planted himself before her without any regard of her condition, without the slightest admiration of her grief, who had singed her soul and stifled her every breath by a scorching flame, was the same diffident boy from her past, vulnerable in the pouring rain.
ReplyDeleteThe rage she had felt after her husband’s symbolic cremation remained intact, growing and expanding the less capable she felt of overcoming it. Moreover, the spaces in her memory where she had managed to lay the memories of his death to rest were gradually yet inescapably being occupied by the meadow of poppies where she had buried the memories of Florentino Ariza.
ReplyDeleteEl texto original del mio, pg. 375:
ReplyDeleteNo le resultaba fácil imaginarse a Florentino Ariza como era entonces, y mucho menos concebir que aquel muchacho taciturno, tan desvalido bajo la lluvia, fuera el mismo carcamal apolillado que se le había plantado enfrente sin ninguna consideración por su estado, sin el menor respeto por su dolo, y le había abrasado el alma con una injuria a fuego vivo que seguía estorbándole para respirar.
Muy interesantes los cambios. Julie, necesitamos el espanol de tu parte. El martes hablamos de las traducciones...
ReplyDeleteEl texto original del mio es de página 377.
ReplyDelete¨La rabia mortal del primer impacto seguía intacta después de la cremación simbólica del marido, y más crecía y se ramificaba cuanto menos capaz se sentía de dominarla. Peor aún: los espacios de la memoria donde lograba apaciguar los recuerdos del muerto iban siendo ocupados poco a poco pero de un modo inexorable por la pradera de amapolas donde estaban enterrados los recuerdos de Florentino Ariza.¨