This site uses cookies.
Some of these cookies are essential to the operation of the site,
while others help to improve your experience by providing insights into how the site is being used.
For more information, please see the ProZ.com privacy policy.
This person has a SecurePRO™ card. Because this person is not a ProZ.com Plus subscriber, to view his or her SecurePRO™ card you must be a ProZ.com Business member or Plus subscriber.
Affiliations
This person is not affiliated with any business or Blue Board record at ProZ.com.
Spanish to English - Standard rate: 0.10 USD per word / 30 USD per hour
Payment methods accepted
PayPal, Wire transfer
Portfolio
Sample translations submitted: 2
Spanish to English: Treatment for independent film
Source text - Spanish Abrumadas por el sol, la imponente casa y las horas de limpieza, deciden descansar en la antigua pérgola. Se emborrachan, y mientras tanto la casa se airea. La ciudad queda más lejos ahora, todo parece más liviano mientras la brisa balancea los sauces. Sin embargo, la tenacidad de Rina no consigue tapar la amargura por lo que tiene que suceder. Al fin y al cabo, hay un motivo por el cual volvió a la casa.
Un niño aparece junto a la pérgola donde las mujeres descansan. Es el hijo de Ana Laura, la antigua mucama que trabajó para Rina cuando vivía en la casa, con su marido y su hijo, y tiene un fajo de correo antiguo para entregarle. Rina se sorprende, no conocía la existencia del hijo de Ana Laura, Román (8). Le pide que avise a su madre: van a necesitar su ayuda.
Al final del día, mientras el viento de la sudestada empieza a levantarse, Rina y Elena se bañan con la manguera en el jardín. Etílicas y femeninas, parecen haber olvidado sus oscuras condiciones, la vejez, el abandono, incluso la creciente del río que está por venir. Elena, más humilde y menos pretenciosa que Rina, ayuda a su amiga a llegar a la cama. La desviste, la acuesta, la tapa. Después se mira ella misma en el espejo. El tiempo y el cuerpo. Se acuesta.
Translation - English Overpowered by the sun, the imposing house and the hours of cleaning, they decide to rest in the old pergola. They get drunk and leave the house to air. The city is even further away now. Everything seems lighter as the breeze sways the willows. However, Rina's tenacity cannot hide her bitterness about what is bound to occur. In the end there is a reason why she returned to the house.
A boy appears at the pergola where the women are resting. He is the son of Ana Laura, the old maid who worked for Rina when she lived in the house with her husband and son. He has a bundle of old mail to deliver to her. Rina is surprised - she didn't know that Ana Laura's son Román (8) existed. He asks her to tell his mother he's there. They're going to need his help.
At the end of the day, as the southeasterly wind starts to blow, Rina and Elena wash themselves with the garden hosepipe. Drunk and feminine, they appear to have forgotten their dark conditions, their old age, the abandonment, and even the river, which is about to rise. Elena, humbler and less pretentious than Rina, helps her friend into her bed. She undresses her, lays her down, and tucks her in. Then she looks at herself in the mirror. Time and the body. She lies down.
Spanish to English: Rafael Loncon, by Fernando Mariani
Source text - Spanish La vida de Rafael el "Rafa" empezó lejos de Médanos, en Maquinchao, Provincia de Río Negro precisamente.
Los primeros años de "Gardelito", apodo que le dio la calle de chico al "Rafa" pasaron en Bariloche; fueron días, años de mucha pobreza, y también de soledad. A su papá recién lo conoció a los 17 años y con solo 6 años tuvo que arreglársela solo, cuando su mamá estuvo internada en un hospital por problemas de salud durante todo un año. Gardelito, paso esos días trabajando a veces de canillita y otras de lustra botas para ganarse lo que comer. Me dice: ¿Sabes porque soy católico? El día que salió mi mamá del hospital nos prestaron una casa para dormir, llovía mucho y en el camino a mí se me mojaron las zapatillas, entonces ella las puso adentro del horno para secarlas, lástima que se olvido de las zapatillas y se quemaron. Recuerdo que me sentó sobre la mesa y me dijo llorando ¿Que te pongo ahora en los pies?; le dije: vamos hasta el terreno baldío adonde juego siempre que puede haber algo, yo vi zapatillas por ahí... hasta que la convencí y fuimos con un farol porque ya era de noche y encontramos ¡dos! pares de zapatillas, uno para mí y otro para ella. Ahí no termia la historia, eso puede ser común... Lo insólito fue al otro día cuando volví a jugar al terreno y me encontré con que no había ninguna basura, nada... estaba todo limpio, había solamente como un pastito. Fue un regalo de Dios! por eso yo soy católico, va... creo en Dios. En la vida nada me ha sido fácil y siempre me ayudo Dios, a mí nunca me dejo caer. He sido un hombre afortunado.
Translation - English Rafael "El Rafa's" life began far from Médanos, more precisely in Maquinchao, in the Province of Río Negro.
"Gardelito" - the nickname the street gave "Rafa" as a child - spent his first years in Bariloche. They were days, years of great poverty, and even solitude. He was 17 years old when he met his dad, and at the tender age of 6 had to take care of himself when his mother was hospitalized for a year due to health problems. Gardelito got through these days working, sometimes as a paperboy, and others polishing boots to earn money to eat. He asks me, "Do you know why I'm Catholic? The day my mum got out of hospital they lent us a bed to sleep in. It rained a lot, and on the way home my shoes got soaked, so she put them in the oven to dry off. Unfortunately she forgot about them and they got burnt. I remember she sat me on the table and said to me, crying, "Now what do I put on your feet?" And I said, "Let's go to the wasteland where I play. We might find something there; I've seen shoes there before." I managed to convince her, and we went with a lantern because it was night time. We found two pairs of shoes! One for me and one for her. The story doesn't end there, that could happen to anyone. The strange thing was that the next day, when I went back to the wasteland, there was no rubbish, nothing... It was all clean. There was just a little grass. It was a gift from God! That's why I'm Catholic, or at least... I believe in God. Nothing's been easy for me in my life, and God has always helped me. He never lets me fall. I've been a lucky man."
More
Less
Experience
Years of experience: 15. Registered at ProZ.com: May 2013.