Assignment 2: Translating Short Stories

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Name: Prasandi Pinasthiko

Student Number: 201214048
Short Story 1 (Indonesian-English)

Source Text Target Text

Silent In End Twilight
Hening di Ujung Senja

Ia tiba-tiba muncul di muka pintu. Tubuhnya kurus, di
sampingnya berdiri anak remaja. Katanya itu anaknya
yang bungsu. Kupersilakan duduk sambil bertanya-
tanya dalam hati, siapa mereka berdua?
Suddenly he appeared in front of the door. The thin
body, beside him, stands the teenager. He said those
children are the youngest. Please sit down while asking
inside your heart, who are they both of you?

“Kita teman bermain waktu kecil. Di bawah pohon
bambu. Tidak jauh dari tepi Danau Toba,” katanya
memperkenalkan diri. Wau, kataku dalam hati. Itu
enam puluh tahun yang lalu. Ketika itu masih anak
kecil, usia empat tahun barangkali. “Ketika sekolah SD
kau pernah pulang ke kampung dan kita bersama-
sama satu kelas pula,” katanya melanjutkan. Aku
tersenyum sambil mengangguk-angguk. Belum juga
dapat kutebak siapa mereka. Ia seakan-akan
mengetahui siapa mereka sesungguhnya. “Wajahmu
masih seperti dulu,” katanya melanjutkan. “Tidakkah
engkau peduli kampung halaman?” tanyanya.
“Tidakkah engkau peduli kampung halamanmu?”
tanyanya membuat aku agak risih. Dulu pernah
keinginan timbul di hati untuk membangun kembali
rumah di atas tanah adat yang tidak pernah dijual.
Pelahan-lahan timbul ingatan di dalam benakku.
“We are friends when we child. Under the bamboo tree.
Not far from the edge of Toba lake,” his said self
introduce. Wau said to me inside the heart. That was
sixty years ago. When those times were still a little kid, 4
years old perhaps. “When an elementary school you
have been going to the village and we together in the
same class too,” he said continue. I smile while nodding.
I can’t even guess who are they. He as if know who are
they. “Your face still like old,” he said to continue.
“Don’t you care about the village?’ asked. “Don’t you
care about your village?” he asked making me a little bit
uncomfortable. Ever desire in my heart to rebuild the
house on the traditional land that didn’t want to sell.
Slowly desire in my brain.

“Rumah kita dahulu berhadap-hadapan, ya?” kataku. Ia

“Our house in the past face each other right? Said me.
mengangguk. “Kalau begitu, kau si Tunggul?” He nodding. “If so, your’e Tunggul?
“Ya,” jawabnya dengan wajah yang mulai cerah.

Lalu ia mengatakan perlunya tanah leluhur “Yes,” answered with a face that start brightly.
dipertahankan. “Jangan biarkan orang lain menduduki
tanahmu. Suatu saat nanti, keturunanmu akan
bertanya-tanya tentang negeri leluhur mereka,”
katanya dengan penuh keyakinan. “Kita sudah sama
tua. Mungkin tidak lama lagi kita akan berlalu. Kalau
kau perlu bantuan, aku akan menolongmu.”
“Akan kupikirkan,” kataku. “Nanti kubicarakan dengan
adik dan kakak,” jawabku.
Pertemuan singkat itu berlalu dalam tahun.
Pembicaraan sesama kakak-beradik tidak tiba pada
kesimpulan. Masing-masing sibuk dengan urusan
sendiri. Dan ketika aku berkunjung ke kampung
halaman, kutemukan dia dengan beberapa kerabat
dekat lainnya. Kudapati ia terbaring di tempat tidur, di
ruangan sempit dua kali dua meter. Beberapa slang
oksigen di hidungnya. Ia bernapas dengan bantuan
oksigen. Matanya berkaca-kaca sambil mulutnya
berkata, “Kudengar kau datang. Beginilah keadaanku.
Sudah berbulan-bulan.” Agak sulit baginya berbicara.
Dadanya tampak sesak bernapas. Aku tidak mungkin
berbicara mengenai tanah itu. Kuserahkan
persoalannya kepada keluarga dekat.
Dalam kesibukan, waktu jua yang memberi kabar.
Seorang kerabat dekat, waktu berjumpa di Jakarta,
berbisik padaku, “Tunggul sudah tiada, pada usia yang
ke-67.”
“Oh, Tuhan,” kataku kepada diriku sendiri. Kami lahir
dalam tahun yang sama. Sebelum segala sesuatu
rencana terwujud, usia telah ditelan waktu! Giliranku?
bisikku pada diriku.
***
Rendi selalu datang dalam mimpi. Diam-diam, lalu
menghilang. Dahulu ia teman sekantor. Tetapi, karena
mungkin ingin memperbaiki nasib, ia mengirim
istrinya ke Amerika, justru ingin mengadu nasib. Ia
menyusul kemudian, dengan meninggalkan pekerjaan
tanpa pemberitahuan. Lewat Bali, Hawaii, ia sampai ke
Then he said need ancestral land to be maintained. “
didn’t let anyone occupy your land. Someday, your
descendant will ask about the ancestral land,” he said
with full of confidence. “ We are the same old age.
Probably not a long time we will pass. If you need help, I
will help you.”
“ I will think,” said myself. “ later I will talk with my
young brother and older brother,” answer myself
That short meeting passed for a year. Conversation
fellow Older brother and young brother did not have a
conclusion yet. Each of them is busy with their own
business. And when I visit their hometown, I find him
laying down in the bed, in a narrow room of 2x2 meters.
Several oxygen hoses in his nose. He breathed with help
of oxygen. His eyes glisten while his mouth said, “ I
heard you come, this is my condition. It’s been months.’
a little bit difficult to talk. His chest looks like shortness
of breath. I can’t talk about that land. I’ll leave the
problem with my close family.
In busy, that time gives a reason. A close friend, who
meeting in Jakarta, whisper to me, “Tunggul isn’t
anymore, at the age of 67 years old”
“Oh, God,” said me. We were born in the same year,
Before anything possible, age has been swallowed up,
turn me? Whisper to me.
Rendi always comes in a dream. Secretive, then gone.
Previously he was my co-worker. But, maybe because
want to fix fate, he sent Her wife to move to America,
Exactly wants to venture. Then he follow it and left his
job without information. Pass Bali, Hawaii, He arrives in
California. Di negeri penuh harapan ini ia memulai
kariernya yang baru, bangun subuh dan mengidari
bagian kota, melempar-lemparkan koran ke rumah-
rumah. Entah apalagi yang dilakukannya, demi
kehidupan yang tidak mengenal belas kasihan.
Setahun berada di sana, ia kehilangan istrinya, derita
yang membawa duka karena kanker payudara. Sepi
merundung hidupnya, di tengah keramaian kota dan
keheningan pagi dan senja, membuatnya resah.
Barangkali hidup tidak mengenal kompromi. Kerja apa
pun
harus dilakukan dengan patuh. Tetapi usia yang di
atas enam puluhan itu cukup melelahkan untuk
bertahan hidup. Tiada kawan untuk membantu. Semua
bertahan hidup harus berkejaran dengan waktu. Dari
agen koran subuh, sampai rumah jompo dari siang
sampai senja, lalu pulang ke apartemen, merebahkan
diri seorang diri, sampai waktu mengantar subuh dan
mengulangi ritual siklus kehidupan.
Dari kesunyian hati itu, ia cuti ke tanah air, untuk
mencari teman hidup pada usia senja.
Tetapi, dalam kesunyian di tanah air, ia mengembara
seorang diri, dengan bus dan kereta api. Seperti
seorang turis, suatu senja, entah serangan apa yang
mendera dadanya, barangkali asmanya kumat. Ia
terkulai di ruang hajat. Di sebuah stasiun kereta,
petugas mencoba membuka kamar toilet. Menemukan
kawan itu dalam keadaan tidak bernyawa. Identitas
diketahui dengan alamat di Los Angeles. Petugas
stasiun menghubungi nama yang tertera di Los
Angeles. Dari Los Angeles datang telepon ke alamat di
Bandung. Dari Bandung berita disampaikan kepada
anaknya, tetapi kebetulan sedang ke Paris. Jenazah
dibawa ke rumah anaknya, dan dimakamkan kerabat
dekat yang ada di kota “Y”.
Tragis, pada usia ke-64 itu, ia mengembara jauh
California. In the country that lot of this hope, he starts
his new career, wakes up early and attends the part of
the city, and throws a newspaper at the houses. Who
knows especially what he does, for the life that not
know about mercy.
One year there, he lost her wife, suffering that bring
sorrow because of breast cancer. Lonely afflict their life,
in the middle of a crowded city and quiet morning and
dusk, make him worried. Perhaps life didn’t know
compromise. Work anything must do with obeying.
But at the age that over sixty years that is enough tired
to stay alive. There’s no friend for help. Everyone who
stays alive must catch up with time. From News agent
early morning, until nursing home from afternoon until
late afternoon, then go back in the apartment, laying
down alone, until the time bring the early morning and
then repeat the same ritual cycle life
In that silence heart, he vacation on homeland, for find
life partner in old age
But, in the middle of silence in homeland, he rogue
alone,with bus and train. Like a tourist, a late afternoon,
Don’t know what happened attack whack in his
chest,possible asthma recurrence. He laying down in a
toilet room. In a train station, officer try to open the
toilet room. Find that friend in the lifeless condition.
Identity known with address in Los Angeles. Station
officer try to contact name that listed in Los Angeles.
From Los Angeles come phone address in Bandung.
From Bandung the news delivered to his son, but
accidental went to Paris.
The corpse brings to his son and buried by a close friend
merajut hidup, tapi ia berhenti dalam kesepian, jauh
dari kenalan dan kerabat. Beberapa kenalan saja yang
menghantarnya ke tempat istirahat.
Terlalu sering ia datang di dalam mimpi yang
membuatku galau.
***
Beberapa waktu kemudian, aku mendapat SMS. Aku
berhenti di pinggir jalan ramai dan mencoba membaca
berita yang masuk.
Lusiana baru saja meninggal dunia. Tutup usia
menjelang ulang tahun ke-61.
Besok akan dimakamkan. Kalau sempat, hadirlah.
Lusiana seorang sekretaris eksekutif yang hidup mati
demi kariernya. Ia lupa kapan ia pernah disentuh rasa
cinta, sampai cinta itu pun ditampiknya. Menjelang
usia renta, ia menyaksikan ayah dan ibunya satu demi
satu meninggalkan hidup yang fana. Juga abangnya,
pergi mendadak entah menderita penyakit apa. Karier
tidak meninggalkan bekas. Tidak ada ahli waris.
Kawan-kawan meratapinya, dan melepasnya dalam
kesunyian hati.
Hening di atas nisannya. Burung pun enggan hinggap
dekat pohon yang menaungi makamnya.
Tidak biasa aku berlibur dengan keluarga. Kepergian
ini hanyalah karena anak yang hidup di tengah
keramaian Jakarta, yang berangkat subuh dan pulang
menjelang tengah malam dari kantornya. Ada
kejenuhan dalam tugasnya yang rutin, membuat ia
mengambil keputusan libur ke Bali bersama orang tua.
Aku yang terbiasa masuk kantor dan pulang kantor
selama puluhan tahun, kerapkali lupa cuti karena tidak
tahu apa yang harus dilakukan waktu cuti. Dan kini,
aku duduk di tepi laut Hindia, menyaksikan ombak
memukul-mukul pantai, dan sebelum senja turun ke
tepi laut, matahari memerah dan bundar, cahaya
keindahan Tuhan, sangat mengesankan ratusan orang
in “Y” City.
Tragically, in the age that 64 years, he wander gar away
to knitting life, but he stop in the loneliness, far from
relative and friend. Just some of relatives that bring to
Rest place.
Too often he comes to my dream that make me
confusion.
After a while, I got a short message, I stopped on the
side of the busy road and try to read the message.
Lusiana just recently passed away. She passed away
near her birthday at the age of 61.
Tomorrow will be buried, If you can, please come.
Lusiana is an executive secretary that spends her life for
the sake of his career. She forgot when she touch
feelings in love, until love she reached. Toward elderly
age, she looks at the father and mother one by one and
leaves this fana life. And also his brother goes suddenly
who knows what sick is. That career didn’t leave a mark.
There are no heirs. Their friend laments it and leaves
them with a quiet heart.
quiet above his tomb. Bird didn’t want to perch in the
near tree that overshadow his grave.
Not as usual holiday with family. This departure is just
because their son that lives in the middle of the Jakarta
crowd. It leaves in the early morning and back home at
midnight from the office. There is surfeit in the routine
job, make he took a decision vacation to Bali with family.
I usually go to the office and back home for decades,
and often forgot to take a vacation because didn’t know
what to do if vacation. And now, I’m sitting at the
seaside of the Hindia Ocean, looking at a wave that hit
the beach, and before dusk fall at the seaside, the sun
looks red and round,
 dari pelbagai bangsa terpaku di atas batu-batu.
Tiba-tiba ada dering di HP istriku, sebuah SMS dengan
tulisan:
Tan, Ibu Maria baru saja meninggal dunia. Kasihan dia.
Di dalam Kitab Sucinya banyak mata uang asing.
Ibu Maria menyusul suaminya yang sudah bertahun-
tahun meninggal dunia, dalam usianya yang ke-72. Ia
pekerja keras sepeninggal suaminya yang
dipensiunkan sebelum waktunya. Suaminya meninggal
dalam usia ke-67 saat anaknya berpergian ke luar
negeri dan tidak hadir ketika penguburannya.
Ibu Maria meninggal mendadak.
The beautiful light from God impressed hundreds of
people from around the country glued on the rocks.
Suddenly there is a ring on my wife's phone, a short
message with a text
Tan, Maria's mother has recently passed away. Poor
him. In the scripture, there is a lot of foreign money.
Maria's Mother following her husband that many years
passed away, at the age of 72. She hardworking person
after her husband's died that retired before period time.
Her husband died at the age of 67 when his son
vacationed overseas and didn’t attend the burial.

*** Maria's Mother died suddenly.

Aku baru saja menerima telepon dari kakakku yang

sulung, dalam usianya yang ke-78. Kudengar suaranya
gembira, walaupun aku tahu sakitnya tidak kunjung
sembuh. Kalimat terakhirnya dalam telepon itu
berbunyi: Tetaplah tabah, Dik. Kamu dan anak-
anakmu, semua anak cucuku dan buyut, supaya
mereka tetap sehat….
I have recently received a call from my eldest brother, at
the age of 78 years old. I hear her happy voice, while I
know that her sick never getting better. The last word in
her voice is “Stay strong, son. You and your son, all my
grandchildren and great-grandmother, so they stay
healthy…

Dan tadi pagi, aku teringat. Usia menjelang ke-70,

walaupun sebenarnya belum sampai ke situ, aku
bertanya-tanya kepada diriku, jejak mana yang sudah
kutoreh dalam hidup ini, dan jejak-jejak apakah yang
bermakna sebelum tiba giliranku?
Aku tepekur.
And this morning, I remember. Age toward 70 years,
although didn’t get there, I ask myself, Where are the
footsteps that I have written in my life, and what
footsteps that meaningful before it’s my turn?

Hening di ujung senja. I’m slashed.

Written by tukang kliping

15 Juli 2012 pada 13:51 Silent In End Twilight
https://cerpenkompas.wordpress.com/2012/07/15/hening-
di-ujung-senja/

Short Story 2: English – Indonesian

 Source Text
The Missing Brick
Paulo Coelho – Like the Flowing River
Once, when my wife and I were traveling, I received a
fax from my secretary.
“There’s one glass brick missing for the work on the
kitchen renovation,” she said. “I’m sending you the
original plan as well as the plan the builder has come
up with to compensate for it.”
On the one hand, there was the design my wife had
made: harmonious lines of bricks with an opening for
ventilation. On the other hand, there was a plan drawn
up to resolve the problem of the missing brick: a real
jigsaw puzzle in which the glass squares were arranged
in a higgledy-piggledy fashion that defied aesthetics.
“Just buy another brick,” wrote my wife. And so they
did, and thus stuck to the original design.
That afternoon, I thought for a long time about what had
happened; how often, for the lack of one brick, we
completely distort the original plan of our lives.
Target Text
Bata Yang Hilang
Paulo Coelho seperti sungai yang mengalir
Suatu ketika saat aku dan istriku berpergian,
aku menerima sebuah faks dari sekretarisku.
“Terdapat satu batu bata kaca yang
menghilang untuk pekerjaan renovasi dapur”
katanya “saya mengirim rencana original
beserta rencana dari pembangun memiliki
ide untuk mengkompensasikan hal itu.
Disatu sisi terdapat desain yang dibuat
istriku: menyelaraskan susunan batu bata
dengan lubang untuk ventilasi. Tetapi ada
rencana untuk memecahkan masalah batu
bata yang hilang: sebuah teka-teki susun
dimana kotak-kotak kaca tersusun secara
membingungkan yang tidak memperdulikan
estetis.
“Beli saja bata yang lain” tulis istriku. Dan
mereka melakukanya, dan itu terpasang di
rancangan asli.
Siang itu, aku berpikir untuk waktu yang lama
tentang apa yang terjadi. Seberapa sering,
untuk kekurangan satu bata,kita keseluruhan
merusak rencana aslinya dalam hidup kita.