UNIT 9.

Translation Techniques

Learning objectives:
1. Define the concept of translation technique.
2. Identify the difference between direct and indirect translation
techniques.
3. Demonstrate the role of indirect translation techniques in
rendering the message.
4. Express your own point of view towards the use of adaptation in
translation.

1. Compare the following source text and target text and identify
the applied translation techniques.

A.
ST. Ours was the marsh country, down by the
river(transposition)within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the
sea. My first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of
things, seems to me to have been gained on a
memorable(modulation) raw afternoon towards evening. At such a
time(modulation) I found out for certain(omition), that this bleak
place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that
Philip(adaptation) Pirrip, late of this parish(modulation), and also
Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that
Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant
children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the
dark flat wilderness (specification) beyond the churchyard,
intersected with dykes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle
feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond,
was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind
was rushing, was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers
growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was Pip. Ch. Dickens
Great Expectations.

TT. Locuiam într-un ţinut mlăştinos, lângă cotitura cea mai

mare din vale a fluviului, la 20 de mile depărtare de mare. Se pare
că cea mai vie şi mai puternică impresie despre identitatea lucrurilor
de care-mi amintesc, am dobândit-o într-o zi rece, zi neştearsă din
mintea mea, spre seară. În ziua de care vorbesc, am descoperit că
locul acela, posomorât şi acoperit cu urzici, e cimitirul; că
răposatul Filip Pirrip şi Georgiana, "soţia celui de mai sus" sunt
morţi de-a binelea(addition) şi îngropaţi; că Alexandru, Bartolomeu,
Avram, Tobias şi Roger, copiii celor mai sus pomeniţi, sunt morţi şi
ei şi îngropaţi; că întinderea necultivată de dincolo de cimitir,
străbătută de gropi şi presărată cu cantoane, pe care păşteau cirezi, e
ţara mlaştinilor; că şuviţa plumburie de la capătul ei, e fluviul; că
locul îndepărtat şi sălbatic de unde năvăleşte vântul, e marea şi că
pumnuleţul acesta de om, care tremură şi scânceşte, înfricoşat de tot
ce vede, e Pip.

B.
ST. What’s here? A cup closed in my true love’s hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.
O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
W. Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet
TT. Ce văd, o Doamne, la Romeo-în mână?
O cupă cu otravă! A murit!
N-a mai avut răbdare — otrăvit!
O! Suflet crud! Cumplită lovitură!
Nu mi-ai lăsat măcar o picătură!
Să te sărut, cu gura mea suavă,
Căci poate-o picătură de otravă
Ţi-a mai rămas pe buze, cum îmi pare,
Să-mi deie moartea-atotvindecătoare!
Julieta

C.
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
W. Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet
Две равно уважаемых семьи
В Вероне, где встречают нас
событья,
Ведут междоусобные бои
И не хотят унять кровопролитья.
Друг друга любят дети главарей,
Но им судьба подстраивает козни,
И гибель их у гробовых дверей
Кладет конец, непримиримой
розни.
Их жизнь, и страсть, и смерти
торжество,
И поздний мир родни на их могиле
На два часа составят существо
Разыгрываемой пред вами были.
Помилостивей к слабостям пера:
Грехи поэта выправит игра.
Перевод: Б.Л. Пастернак
Две знатные фамилии, равно
Почтенные, в Вероне обитали,
Но ненависть терзала их давно,-
Всегда они друг с другом
враждовали.
До бунта их раздоры довели,
И руки их окрасилися кровью;
Но сердца два они произвели,
На зло вражде, пылавшие
любовью,
И грустная двух любящих судьба
Старинные раздоры прекратила.
Фамилий тех свирепая борьба,
Влюбленных смерть, любви их
страстной сила,
Вот то, что мы теперь вам здесь
изобразим,
Прося у вас на два часа терпенья,
И если что пропустим, то дадим
Мы к действию на сцене
объясненья.
Перевод Д. Л. Михаловског
 D.
I was very young when I wrote my first book. By a lucky chance it excited attention, and various
persons sought my acquaintance.
It is not without melancholy that I wander among my recollections of the world of letters in
London when first, bashful but eager, I was introduced to it. It is long since I frequented it, and if the
novels that describe its present singularities are accurate much in it is now changed. The venue is
different. Chelsea and Bloomsbury have taken the place of Hampstead, Notting Hill Gate, and High
Street, Kensington. Then it was a distinction to be under forty, but now to be more than twenty-five is
absurd. I think in those days we were a little shy of our emotions, and the fear of ridicule tempered the
more obvious forms of pretentiousness. I do not believe that there was in that genteel Bohemia an
intensive culture of chastity, but I do not remember so crude a promiscuity as seems to be practised in the
present day. We did not think it hypocritical to draw over our vagaries the curtain of a decent silence. The
spade was not invariably called a bloody shovel. Woman had not yet altogether come into her own.
I lived near Victoria Station, and I recall long excursions by bus to the hospitable houses of the
literary. In my timidity I wandered up and down the street while I screwed up my courage to ring the bell;
and then, sick with apprehension, was ushered into an airless room full of people. I was introduced to this
celebrated person after that one, and the kind words they said about my book made me excessively
uncomfortable. I felt they expected me to say clever things, and I never could think of any till after the
party was over. I tried to conceal my embarrassment by handing round cups of tea and rather ill-cut
bread-and-butter. I wanted no one to take notice of me, so that I could observe these famous creatures at
my ease and listen to the clever things they said.
(The Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham, Ch. III )

Я был очень молод, когда написал свою первую книгу.

По счастливой случайности она привлекла к себе внимание, и различные люди стали искать
знакомства со мной.
Не без грусти предаюсь я воспоминаниям о литературном мире Лондона той поры, когда я,
робкий и взволнованный, ступил в его пределы. Давно уже я не бывал в Лондоне, и если романы
точно описывают характерные его черты, то, значит, многое там изменилось. И кварталы, в
которых главным образом протекает литературная жизнь, теперь иные. Гемпстед, Нотинг-Хилл-
Гейт, Гайстрит и Кенсингтон уступили место Челси и Блумсбери. В те времена писатель моложе
сорока лет привлекал к себе внимание, теперь писатели старше двадцати пяти лет – комические
фигуры. Тогда мы конфузились своих чувств, и страх показаться смешным смягчал проявления
самонадеянности. Не думаю, чтобы тогдашняя богема очень уж заботилась о строгости нравов, но
я не помню и такой неразборчивости, какая, видимо, процветает теперь. Мы не считали себя
лицемерами, если покров молчания прикрывал наши безрассудства. Называть вещи своими
именами у нас не считалось обязательным, да и женщины в ту пору еще не научились
самостоятельности.
Я жил неподалеку от вокзала Виктория и совершал долгие путешествия в омнибусе,
отправляясь в гости к радушным литераторам. Прежде чем набраться храбрости и дернуть звонок,
я долго шагал взад и вперед по улице и потом, замирая от страха, входил в душную комнату,
битком набитую народом. Меня представляли то одной, то другой знаменитости, и я краснел до
корней волос, выслушивая добрые слова о своей книге. Я чувствовал, что от меня ждут
остроумных реплик, но таковые приходили мне в голову лишь по окончании вечера. Чтобы скрыть
свою робость, я усердно передавал соседям чай и плохо нарезанные бутерброды. Мне хотелось
остаться незамеченным, чтобы спокойно наблюдать за этими великими людьми, спокойно
слушать их умные речи.
(Перевод: Наталия Ман)

2. Translate the text using the appropriate techniques.

Cycling is Bad for the Environment (5th March, 2013)
An American lawmaker has said cycling is bad for the environment. He also said cyclists should
pay a tax to ride their bikes on the roads. Ed Orcutt, a representative from Washington State, sent an e-
mail to the owner of a local bike shop to outline his thinking. He wrote: "A cyclist has an increased heart
rate and respiration. That means that the act of riding a bike results in greater emissions of carbon dioxide
from the rider. Since CO2 is a greenhouse gas cyclists are actually polluting when they ride." Mr Orcutt
said: "You can't just say that there's no pollution as a result of riding a bicycle.You would be giving off
more CO2 if you are riding a bike than driving in a car." Mr Orcutt also believes cyclists should be taxed
to use the roads. He said it was unfair that motorists have to pay all of the costs of building and repairing
roads. He wrote: "Currently motorists are paying to use their cars on the roads…so if cars pay for the
roads they are using, it only makes sense that bicyclists would also be required to pay for the roads they
use when they are actually biking on them." Dale Carlson, owner of the Tech Bike Shop said Mr Orcutt's
ideas were wrong. He wrote: "People who choose to ride a bicycle instead of driving a car actively reduce
congestion." He added: "They save wear and tear on our roads and bridges, and reduce the [need for
police] to patrol our highways."

Ciclismul este daunator pentru mediu (5 martie 2013)

Un parlamentar american a spus că mersul pe bicicletă este daunator pentru mediu. El a

mai spus că bicicliștii ar trebui să plătească o taxă pentru a merge cu bicicleta. Ed Orcutt, un
reprezentant din statul Washington, a trimis un e-mail proprietarului unui magazin local de
biciclete pentru a-și contura gândirea. El a scris: "Un ciclist are o frecvență cardiacă și o
respirație crescuta. Asta înseamnă că acțiunea de a merge pe bicicletă are ca rezultat emisii mai
mari de dioxid de carbon. Deoarece CO2 este gaz cu efect de seră, bicicliștii sunt de fapt poluanți
atunci când călătoresc" Domnul Orcutt a spus: "Nu puteți spune doar că nu există poluare ca
urmare a mersului pe bicicletă. Ați da mai mult CO2 dacă mergeți pe bicicletă decât să conduceți
cu o mașină". Dl Orcutt consideră, de asemenea, că bicicliștii ar trebui să fie impozitați pentru
utilizarea drumurilor. El a spus că este nedrept ca șoferii să plătească toate costurile pentru
construirea și repararea drumurilor. El a scris: „În prezent, șoferii plătesc pentru a merge cu
mașinile pe drumuri ... așa că, dacă mașinile plătesc pentru drumurile pe care le folosesc, are
sens doar că bicicliștii ar fi obligați să plătească și pentru drumurile pe care le folosesc atunci
când sunt de fapt cu bicicleta. lor." Dale Carlson, proprietarul magazinului de biciclete tehnice, a
spus că ideile domnului Orcutt erau greșite. El a scris: „Oamenii care aleg să meargă cu bicicleta
în loc să conducă o mașină reduc în mod activ congestia”. El a adăugat: „Economisesc uzura pe
drumurile și podurile noastre și reduc [nevoia de poliție] de a ne patrula pe autostrăzi”.
3. Translate the following slogans.
1.) „Make it real”; fa-o sa fie real
2.) ”Twice as much for a nickel”; dublu la acelasi pret
3.) „The Light Refreshment!” savureaza placerea/ simte gustul
4.) ”Obey your thirst”; potoleste-ti setea
5.) “Now It's Pepsi for Those Who Think Young”; Pepsi pentru cei cu mintea tanara
6.) “Drink Fanta, stay Bamboocha!” „Bea Fanta si simte ritmul!”
7.) „Something for everyone” de toate pentru toti
8.) ”Good to the last drop”; Bun până la ultima picătură
9) “Bigger drink, better taste!”. Mai multa bautura, mai bun gust!

4. Translate the text from Romanian into English.

Din şoseaua ce vine de la Cârlibaba, întovărăşind Someşul ba în dreapta, ba în stânga pâna la Cluj
şi chiar mai departe, se desprinde un drum alb, mai sus de Armadia, trece râul peste podul batrân de lemn,
acoperit cu şindrila mucegăită, spinteca satul Jidoviţa si aleargă spre Bistriţa, unde se pierde în cealaltă
şosea naţională care coboară din Bucovina prin trecătoarea Bârgăului. Lasând Jidoviţa, drumul urca întâi
anevoe pâna ce-şi face loc printre dealurile strâmtorate, pe urma însa înainteaza vesel, neted, mai
ascunzându-se printre fagii tineri ai Pădurii Domneşti, mai poposind puţin la Cismeaua Mortului, unde
picura vesnic apa de izvor racoritoare, apoi coteste brusc pe subt Râpele Dracului, ca sa dea buzna în
Pripasul pitit într-o scrântitura de coline. La marginea satului te întâmpina din stânga o cruce strâmbape
care e rastignit un Hristos cu fata spălăcita de ploi si cu o cununiţa de flori veştede agăţată de picioare.
Sufla o adiere uşoară si Hristos îşi tremura jalnic trupul de tinichea ruginită pe lemnul mâncat de carii si
înnegrit de vremuri. Satul parca e mort. Zapuşeala ce pluteste în văzduh ţese o tăcere nabuşitoare. Doar în
răstimpuri fâsie alene frunzele adormite prin copaci. Un fuior de fum albastriu se căzneste sa se înalte
dintre crengile pomilor, se bălăbaneste puţin ca o matahala ameţită si se prăvale peste grădinile prăfuite,
învăluindu-le într-o ceaţă cenusie.

From the road coming from Cârlibaba, turning Someşul either on the right or on the left until Cluj
and even further, a white road detaches, above Armadia, the river crosses the old wooden bridge, covered
with moldy shingles, splits the village of Jidoviţa and runs to Bistriţa, where it gets lost in the other
national road that descends from Bucovina through the Bârgăului pass. Leaving Jidoviţa, the road first
climbs with difficulty until it makes its way through the narrow hills, but then it advances merrily,
smooth, hiding among the young beeches of the Royal Forest, stopping a little at Cismeaua Mortului,
where the refreshing spring water drips forever. , then turns abruptly under the Devil's Ravens, to burst
into the Pripasul pit in a crunch of hills. At the edge of the village you are greeted on the left by a crooked
cross that is crucified by a Christ with a face washed by the rains and a wreath of flowers hanging from
his feet. He blew a light breeze, and Christ shuddered his body with rusty tin on the wood eaten by caries
and blackened by time. The village looks dead. The swell floating in the air weaves an overwhelming
silence. Only occasionally did the lazy leaves fall asleep through the trees. A stream of blue smoke rushes
to rise from the branches of the trees, dangles a little like a dizzy matahala, and falls over the dusty
gardens, enveloping them in a gray mist.

5. Translate the text from Russian into English.

 – Вот вы говорите, что человек не может сам по себе понять, что хорошо, что дурно, что все
дело в среде, что среда заедает. А я думаю, что все дело в случае. Я вот про себя скажу.
Так заговорил всеми уважаемый Иван Васильевич после разговора, шедшего между нами, о
том, что для личного совершенствования необходимо прежде изменить условия, среди которых
живут люди. Никто, собственно, не говорил, что нельзя самому понять, что хорошо, что дурно, но
у Ивана Васильевича была такая манера отвечать на свои собственные, возникающие вследствие
разговора мысли и по случаю этих мыслей рассказывать эпизоды из своей жизни. Часто он
совершенно забывал повод, по которому он рассказывал, увлекаясь рассказом, тем более что
рассказывал он очень искренно и правдиво.
Так он сделал и теперь.
– Я про себя скажу. Вся моя жизнь сложилась так, а не иначе, не от среды, а совсем от
другого.
– От чего же? – спросили мы.
– Да это длинная история. Чтобы понять, надо много рассказывать.
– Вот вы и расскажите.
Иван Васильевич задумался, покачал головой.
– Да, – сказал он. – Вся жизнь переменилась от одной ночи, или скорее утра.
– Да что же было?
– А было то, что был я сильно влюблен. Влюблялся я много раз, но это была самая моя
сильная любовь.
(Лев Толстой, После бала)