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Translation, Editing/proofreading, Website localization, Software localization, Subtitling

Spécialisé en :
Environnement et écologie	Génie et sciences nucléaires
Mécanique / génie mécanique	Ingénierie : industriel
Électronique / génie électronique	Construction / génie civil
Chimie / génie chim.	Industrie aérospatiale / aviation / espace
Ingénierie (général)	Cuisine / culinaire

Échantillons de traduction proposés: 3

anglais vers espagnol: From Chapter 1 of McTeague, by Frank Norris General field: Art / Littérature
Texte source - anglais It was Sunday, and, according to his custom on that day, McTeague took his dinner at two in the afternoon at the car conductors' coffee-joint on Polk Street. He had a thick gray soup; heavy, underdone meat, very hot, on a cold plate; two kinds of vegetables; and a sort of suet pudding, full of strong butter and sugar. On his way back to his office, one block above, he stopped at Joe Frenna's saloon and bought a pitcher of steam beer. It was his habit to leave the pitcher there on his way to dinner. Once in his office, or, as he called it on his signboard, "Dental Parlors," he took off his coat and shoes, unbuttoned his vest, and, having crammed his little stove full of coke, lay back in his operating chair at the bay window, reading the paper, drinking his beer, and smoking his huge porcelain pipe while his food digested; crop-full, stupid, and warm. By and by, gorged with steam beer, and overcome by the heat of the room, the cheap tobacco, and the effects of his heavy meal, he dropped off to sleep. Late in the afternoon his canary bird, in its gilt cage just over his head, began to sing. He woke slowly, finished the rest of his beer--very flat and stale by this time--and taking down his concertina from the bookcase, where in week days it kept the company of seven volumes of "Allen's Practical Dentist," played upon it some half-dozen very mournful airs. McTeague looked forward to these Sunday afternoons as a period of relaxation and enjoyment. He invariably spent them in the same fashion. These were his only pleasures--to eat, to smoke, to sleep, and to play upon his concertina.	Traduction - espagnol Era domingo, y, según su costumbre en ese día, se McTeague la cena a las dos de la tarde en el café de los conductores de automóviles, la articulación de en Polk Street. Tenía una sopa espesa gris, pesado, carne poco hecho, muy en caliente, en un plato frío, dos tipos de vegetales, y una especie de sebo pudín, llena de mantequilla de fuerte y el azúcar. En su camino de regreso a su oficina, una cuadra más arriba, se detuvo en el salón de Joe Frenna y compró una jarra de cerveza de vapor. Era su costumbre de dejar que el lanzador no en su camino a cena. Una vez en su oficina, o, como él decía en su letrero, "Dental Salones," se quitó el abrigo y zapatos, se desabrochó el chaleco, y, haber hacinados su pequeña estufa llena de coque, se recostó en su funcionamiento cátedra en la ventana de bahía, leyendo el periódico, bebiendo su cerveza, y la fumando su pipa de porcelana, mientras que su gran alimentos digeridos; cultivo completo, estúpido, y cálido. Poco a poco, cebado con la cerveza de vapor, y superar el el calor de la habitación, el tabaco barato, y los efectos de la comida pesada, se dejó caer en el sueño. A última hora de la tarde, su canario, en su jaula dorada justo sobre su cabeza, comenzó a cantar. Se despertó lentamente, terminó el resto de su cerveza - muy plano y rancia en ese momento - y desmontaje su concertina de la biblioteca, donde en los días de semana se mantuvo a la compañía de los siete volúmenes de "práctica de Allen dentista", jugado en ella algunos de de media docena de aires muy triste. McTeague espera que estas tardes de domingo como un período de la relajación y disfrute. Invariablemente pasado en la misma forma. Estas fueron sus únicos placeres - a comer, fumar, dormir y jugar en su acordeón.
anglais vers russe: From 2 B R 0 2 B, by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. General field: Art / Littérature
Texte source - anglais Everything was perfectly swell. There were no prisons, no slums, no insane asylums, no cripples, no poverty, no wars. All diseases were conquered. So was old age. Death, barring accidents, was an adventure for volunteers. The population of the United States was stabilized at forty-million souls. One bright morning in the Chicago Lying-in Hospital, a man named Edward K. Wehling, Jr., waited for his wife to give birth. He was the only man waiting. Not many people were born a day any more. Wehling was fifty-six, a mere stripling in a population whose average age was one hundred and twenty-nine. X-rays had revealed that his wife was going to have triplets. The children would be his first. Young Wehling was hunched in his chair, his head in his hand. He was so rumpled, so still and colorless as to be virtually invisible. His camouflage was perfect, since the waiting room had a disorderly and demoralized air, too. Chairs and ashtrays had been moved away from the walls. The floor was paved with spattered dropcloths. The room was being redecorated. It was being redecorated as a memorial to a man who had volunteered to die.	Traduction - russe Все было прекрасно зыби. Были ни тюрем, ни трущоб, не сумасшедшие, не калека, нет нищета, не будет войн. Были завоеваны все болезни. Так было старости. Смерть, если не произойдет авария, была приключением для волонтеров. Население Соединенных Штатов было стабилизировано на сорок млн. душах. Один яркий утром в Чикаго родильный дом, человек по имени Эдвард К. Wehling-младшего, ждал, когда его жена родит. Он был единственным человеком ожидания. Не многие люди родились в день больше. Wehling было пятьдесят шесть, простой юноша в популяции, средний Возраст было сто двадцать девять. Рентгеновских лучей показал, что его жена будет иметь тройню. детей станет его первым. Молодые Wehling было сгорбившись в кресле, голова его в руках. Он был такой помятая, так еще и бесцветным, чтобы быть практически невидимыми. Его Camouflage была совершенна, так как приемная была беспорядочная и деморализована воздуха тоже. Кафедры и пепельницы были отошли от стен. Пол был вымощен забрызгала dropcloths. В комнате было быть реконструированы. В настоящее время он сменил обстановку как мемориал с человеком, который вызвался умереть.
allemand vers anglais: From Die Frau von dreißig Jahren by Honoré de Balzac General field: Art / Littérature
Texte source - allemand Erste Fehler. Es war in den ersten Tagen des Monats April 1813, da verhieß der Morgen eines Sonntags einen jener schönen Tage, an denen der Pariser zum erstenmal im Jahre keinen Schmutz auf dem Pflaster und keine Wolken am Himmel sieht. Kurz vor der Mittagsstunde lenkte eine stattliche, mit zwei flinken Pferden bespannte Kalesche aus der Rue Castiglione in die Rue de Rivoli ein und reihte sich dann, Halt machend, an mehrere Equipagen an, die sich an dem vor kurzem erst geöffneten Gitter mitten auf der Terrasse des Feuillants aufgestellt hatten. Dieses vornehme Gefährt wurde von einem anscheinend sorgenvollen, ja kränklichen Herrn gelenkt. Sein gelblicher Schädel wies nur noch wenig schon ergrautes Haar auf, was ihn vor der Zeit alt erscheinen ließ. Dem Reitknecht, der hinter dem Wagen hergeritten war, warf er die Zügel zu, dann stieg er ab, um einem jungen Mädchen, dessen Anmut und Schönheit sogleich den auf der Terrasse umherschlendernden Müßiggängern auffiel, beim Aussteigen zu helfen. Die kleine Person ließ sich gern um die Taille fassen, als sie auf den Rand des Wagens getreten war, und schlang die Arme um den Hals ihres Führers, der sie auf die Treppe niedersetzte und dabei nicht einmal den Besatz ihres grünen Ripskleides zerdrückte. Ein Liebhaber hätte sich nicht so sehr in acht genommen. Der Unbekannte mußte der Vater dieses Kindes sein, das, ohne sich bei ihm zu bedanken, seinen Arm nahm und ihn stürmisch in den Garten hineinzog.	Traduction - anglais First mistake. It was in the first days of April 1813, as promised the morning one Sunday, one of those beautiful days when the Paris to the first time in any dirt on the pavement and no clouds in the Sky looks. Shortly before the noon hour drew an impressive, with two swift horses from horse-drawn carriage in the Rue Castiglione Rue de Rivoli one and then lined up, "doing" Stop, several Carriages in which the middle of the very recently opened bars situated on the terrace of Feuillants had. This vehicle was distinguished by a seemingly anxious, yes Mr. sickly directed. Its yellowish skull had very little have gray hair, which made him look old before their time. The Groom, who rode behind the car, he threw the reins Then he got down to a young girl whose grace and beauty immediately noticed the on the terrace umherschlendernden idlers, to help to get out. The little person could be happy to take around the waist as they bear on the Edge of the car was kicked and threw her arms around the neck of her Leader, who sat down on the stairs and not even the Stocking her green mashed Ripskleides. A lover would have not so much taken up in eight. The unknown was the father of this His child, who, without thank him, took his arm and his hineinzog wildly into the garden.

PhD - Learning from others

Années d'expérience en traduction : 19. Inscrit à ProZ.com : Sep 2009. Devenu membre en : Sep 2009.

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Statistically machining your translations since 2005

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Mots clés : MT

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Sep 19, 2019

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