Jasmina Pesic - English to Serbian translator. Translation services in Cosmetics, Beauty

Working languages:

English to Serbian
Serbo-Croat to Serbian
Serbian to English

Jasmina Pesic
EXPERIENCED TRANSLATOR & INTERPRETER

SMEDEREVO, Serbia, Serbia

Local time: 15:24 CEST (GMT+2)

Native in: Serbian

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Editing/proofreading, Interpreting, Transcription, Translation, Subtitling, Project management

Specializes in:
Cosmetics, Beauty	Linguistics
Poetry & Literature	Media / Multimedia
Music	Photography/Imaging (& Graphic Arts)
Textiles / Clothing / Fashion	Slang
Names (personal, company)	Idioms / Maxims / Sayings

Sample translations submitted: 2

English to Serbian: Low Fat Brownies Recipe General field: Other Detailed field: Food & Drink
Source text - English https://uk.russellhobbs.com/recipes/baking/low-fat-brownies	Translation - Serbian Niskokalorični braunis Prepustite se čarima niskokaloričnih braunisa bez brige za stas Sastojci 220g kristal šećera 125g pšeničnog brašna 60g kakaoa 1 kašika praška za pecivo 330ml sosa od jabuke 4 belanca 2 kašike vanile 1 kašika šećera u prahu Način pripreme (kliknite da označite kao završen korak): 1 Rernu zagrejati na 180C 2 Blago podmazati pleh jestivim uljem u spreju 3 Prosejte šećer, brašno, kako i prašak za pecivo u posudu. Žicom ulupajte sos od jabuke, belanca i vanilu 4 Smesu sa belancima dodati u brašno i tek lagano promešati da se smesa ujednači. Nemojte previše mutiti. Prelijte u pleh za pečenje 5 Koristeći kuhinjske rukavice, pleh stavite u pećnicu 6 Poklopite i pecite 30 minuta ili koliko bude potrebno da se lepo ispeče 7 Ostavite da se ohladi i pospite šećerom u prahu pre posluživanja Završeni svi koraci (kliknite da uklonite poslednji korak).
English to Serbian: Bogati djecak sa siromasnom majkom General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English BOGATI DJECAK SA SIROMASNOM MAJKOM Ne znam da li se kada vama desi da odlutate u proslost a ponekad se zapitate zasto ta proslost Naime, uvjek kada spremam dijete za skolu,sjetim se svog djetinstva,sjetim se tako ciste slike i ruku moje majke i odlutam u mislima sa smijeskom na licu i sjetim sw moje majke. Iste one majke koja mene sprema kao dijete da idem sa njom na Trznicu/Pijacu a ljetni dan, ja imao nekih mozda 6 godina! Kako sam ja tada bio srecan, sto cu sa mamom ici u grad na pijacu pa to je nesto Velincastveno! Mama mi bila mrsava i kostunjava zena a i vecina majki su tako izgledale,danas gledajuci sa ovog aspekta to su bila i mozda teska vremena za mnoge majke, koje su vecinom bile poslijeratna djeca WW2, sa slabom ili nikakvom edukacijom i zivotom koji ih nije bas mazio! Zivot neskolovane domacice koja se brinula i za djecu i u kuci i u basti,pralo se na ruke,i ves i sudje ,voda se grijala na sporetu, znaci nista nije izgledalo kao danas! Ali ta ljubav majke prema djeci, i ta neka sloboda koja je okruzivala oko nas djece, je odavala dojam u mojim djecijim ocima da i pored svega toga, ja sam imao najbogatiju majku,tako srecnu a tako siromasnu,tako ponosnu a tako gordu! Nije bilo trke i zbrke kao danas vec stalozenost,mir,ljubav i zadovoljstvo sa onim sta se ima a puno se toga nije imalo! Obukla me u kratke hlace na tregere,neke carapice do koljena i majica neka (mi je zvali Mornar majica)! na nogama sam imao zlatne sandale, koje sam jako obozavao ( to su one jeftine plasitecne sandale "Jugoplastika") Mama je imala neku haljinu sa ruzama, sto je sama sebi sasila od materijala koji je kupila jos davno, jer nije se tada kao danas moglo bas izabirat sta ce se kupiti ili nositi! Krecemo ka ja autobuskoj stanici i Pijaci a meni dragoooo... Ma najsrecniji sam na svijetu,mama koraca drzeci me za ruku dok ja pored nje hodam a ponekad i skakucem sa noge na nogu a u drugoj ruci mama nosi ceker! Ta ruka koja me drzi je obecavala najvecu sigurnost na svijetu a ujedno i najljepsu toplinu tako cvrsto a tako njezno! Tada pijacni dan je izgledao kao u danasnje vrijeme docek nove godine,nije bilo auta kao danas, vec samo rijeke ljudi, zubor i milioni razgovora i glasova oko mene! Ja kao dijete nisam nikada zahtiijevao da mi se nesto kupi, jer mama je uvjek govorila da je skupo i da nema novaca, ali sam zato sirom otvorenih usta se divio svemu onome sta vidim na tezgama,a znam da ce i mama uvjek naci nacin da i meni ipak kupi nesto,a onaj miris cevapa iz okolnih rostiljnica koji se sirio pijacom jos i dan danas ga osjecam kao i na cosku pijace gdje se pekle kokosi! Kupuju ljudi sve i svasta,ne znam gdje bi se prije okrenuo,mama me ne ispusta iz ruku jer je guzva,idemo od tezge do tezge mama razgleda,(u stvari gleda cijene) Gledam one igracke, neki plasticni kamioncici i traktorcici, ali to je za mene bilo nemoguca misija da ih imam, ali zato mogu da gledam! Divio sam se svemu sta vidim a najvise sam se divio Hemijskim Olovkama,uvjek sam voleo modernu hemijsku olovku i sa njom da pisem,ali skupa! Mama je nesto kupovala neko povrce prebirajuci neki sitnis po novcaniku koji je izgledao mali krpeni novcanik sa nekim malim ukrasima na njemu a na vrhu je imao ziper da se zatvori! Hodali smo kroz citavu pijacu izgledalo je jako veselo,ljudima su lica izgledala i umorna i opustena,nekako su bili stalozeni a na licima im kroz tu stalozenost se ipak prikazivala zivotna muka,neimastina i borba za zivot, ali uprskos tome svi su nekako izgledali veselo! Stali smo u jednu radnju,mama je kupila pola kile secera koji se tada na kilo kupovao iz onih drvenih sanduka,i uzela je 100 grama "sekrlama" to su one bombone sa crvenim crtama koje se nalazile u teglama pored vage a meni je kupila kutiju zvakacih guma koje su izgledale kao cigarete (10 zvakacih guma u kutijici) Niko nije bio sretniji od mene ( imao sam citav paket zvakacih guma)to je bogastvo. vec u glavi racunam koliko da ih podjelim sa bracom a koliko cu da ih sakrijem,mama me isto naucila i to da kada zvakaca guma nije vise slatka da je umocim u secer i onda ce biti opet slatka! Odmah sam uzeo jednu zvakacu gumu i poceo da zvacem sada sam ponosan,pusem balone,hodam veselo kao da mi mama kupila kraljevsku krunu,jedino nisam voleo kada zaspem sa svakacom gumom pa se ujutro probudim a ona se zalijepila na kosi pa mama mora makazama da mi odreze cuperak . Iduci tako kroz pijacu na koju smo se zadrzali oko dva sata, zastali smo pored jedne Cevabdzinice i mama nesto prebira po novcaniku i broji sitnis,prebrojava mama kao da ima milion dinara a ne nekoliko zutih i bijelih kovanica! onaj ocaravajuci miris koji kulja iz dimljaka cevabdzinice stvara tako lijep ambijent da je to nesto neopisivo! Nisam znao zasto mama toliko dugo prebrojava one kovanice i racuna? Ipak... Skrenuli smo u Cevabdzinicu,sjeli za sto, mama narucila sebi casu vode a meni neki sok, ja mislim bio je JUPI ili Nara nakon nekog vremena dolaze i cevapi, bila citava lepinja i dvije pljoske cevapa... Mama poce da kida lepinju i ono meso , meni daje meso sa lepinjom a ona uzma male i sicusne komadice lepinje i jede ih bez mesa,dok nekako zamisljeno gleda u daljinu a ponekad uputi njezni pogled ka meni gledajuci kako jedem govoreci njeznim glasom: -Jedi,jedi sine! koja je to toplina pogleda je tesko objasniti,pogled koji obecava ljubav i sigurnost,taj pogled umornih ociju ali zato punih ljubavi,a one ispucale ruke i koza na rukama se uvjek mogle osjetiti na mojoj glavi kada me pomiluje.. Znao sam kao djecak da mi mama se zabrinula, ali ne znam zasto!? Pojeo sam jednu pljosku cevapa a ostalo smo zamotali da ponesemo kuci, bilo mi zao sve pojesti! A mama kaze da nije gladna, iako znam da nije nista jela! Krenuli smo kuci! Hodajuci tako ja i mama, vidim da prolazimo autobusku stanicu i krecemo pjeske kuci! pitajuci mamu zasto ne cekamo autobus a mama kaze: "Neka sine' lijep je dan icicemo pjeske" U stvari mama nije imala para (zato je onoliko racunala i prebrojavala onaj sitnis) i onako zamisljeno gledala ali mama je ipak odlucila da mi kupi cevape i nije ih tjela ni jesti, znam da je gladna bila i znam da me lagala za autobus! Ali ipak je koracala samnom i sa onim cekerom/torbom nekako ponosno i veselo,valjda joj drago sto baram na trenutak uspjela da zadovolji oci jednog malog djecaka,koji je gledao uokolo tako znatizeljno i veselo. Valjda je majka mogla uvjek da prepozna dijete u kom pravcu gleda i sta misli kao i svaka druga majka,tako siromasna a tako bogata,majka koja ce i zadnji dinar dati da usreci svoje dijete,majka koja nece ni jesti praveci se da gladna nije samo da bi dijete nahranila,majka koja ce kilometrima da ide pjeske,samo da joj dijete ne osjeti neimastainu,majka koja ce stiskom ruke da drzi onaj ostatak cevapa da bi donjela kuci! Nije marila za tezinu torbe i rucice svog djeteta koje drzi,ni torbu a ni rucicu ispustala nije svih onih kilometri pjesacenja,osjecao sam zadihenost u njenim grudima,osjecao sam i tezinu hoda u onim jeftinim cipelama,ali nije se predavala,ostala je uspravno! osjecam toliko topline u onim ispucalim rukama koje drzim,toliko sigurnosti u njenom hodu a toliko muke u njenom zivotu! Do kuce nije stala,nije rekla ni da joj tesko, niti da je gladna, vec je uzela ono ostatak cevapa iz onoh masnog papira i podjelila mojoj braci.... i samo sutke otisla da pravi rucak! I zato se danas rado sjecam,koliko jedna majka moze biti pozrtvovana za dijete svoje... I zato i dan danas se rado sjetim da ona neimastina je tako bogata bila, cak i bogatija od danasnjeg zivota! Nije neimastina ne imati nesto, vec je neimastina ne biti zadovoljan sa onim sta imas! A moja majka je bila zadovoljna sa onim sta ima,i nikada nije rekla nemam ili ne mogu ! Majka koja je sebe dala za nas! Majka koja je sebe zrtvovala za nas! Majka koja je upucivala njezan osmjeh i onda kada joj se srce cijepalo! I samo majka zna da sa jednim osmjehom napravi bogastvo! Majka koja je imala najnjeznije ruke,iako joj koza na rukama bila ispucala od sunca i pranja vesa u hladnoj vodi! I zato se danas rado sjetim moje majke i zato danas u svakoj staroj i napacenoj zeni vidim svoju majku i zato danas volim da pisem ovo i da podsjetim na rijec "Majka" na tu rijec koja je tako kratka a tako teska rijec koja obecava najvecu sigurnost,toplinu i ljubav. A kupio sam sebi i najmoderniju olovku da mogu pisati o Majci Posveceno svim majkama ovog svijeta! Text: Smajo Sulejmani	Translation - Serbian A RICH BOY WITH POOR MOTHER I wonder if you ever wander into past times, sometimes asking yourself why into that very particular time in the past? The thing is, that whenever I get my kid ready for school, I recall a clear picture of my childhood, my mother's clean hands. Drifting through my thoughts I remember my mother with a smile on my face. My mother, the one who was getting me ready for going to the green market with her, on a summer's day back when I was about six! The happiness I felt knowing I would come along to the city market was a magnificent feeling! My mom was a skinny and row boned woman, as most mothers were back then. Looking back today I realize those were tough times for many mothers... Most of them were WW2 children survivors, barely educated or with no education at all, living not very merciful lives! Uneducated housewife' life was nothing like it is today: raising kids, running a household, working in garden, doing laundry manually and dishes too, by using water previously heated on the stove ... It was nothing like today's life! In spite of all that, in the eyes of a child I was, my mother appeared to be the wealthiest mother ever - truly happy although very poor and so very self-righteous and yet proud of her motherly love for us and the extraordinary feeling of freedom she gave us. Things were not as hectic as today. People were calm, peaceful, loving and grateful for what they had regardless of much more that they did not have! She dressed me in short trousers with straps, knee-high socks and a t-shirt (we used to call those sailor shirts!). I was wearing golden sandals which I adored (it was a pair of those cheap rubber ones made by "Jugoplastika"). Mom wore a dress with roses which she made on her own of the fabric she had bought a long time ago... You could not really choose what you'd buy or wear then as you could do today! We were heading towards the bus station and the green market and I felt soooo thrilled... The luckiest boy in the world, that's who I was holding my mom's hand and walking by her side occasionally hopping up while she carried her basket bag in her other hand! Gentle and yet so solid grasp of my mother's holding hand was a promise of ultimate wellbeing and the most soothing incredible warmth! Greenmarket days from back then could be compared to nowadays' New Years' eves. There were no cars at the time, only an endless river of people, murmur and countless voices and conversations all mixed up together around me! I never asked for things to be bought to me when I was a kid as mom was always saying that everything was expensive and that we had no money. That couldn't stop me from admiring commodities displayed on the stands with my mouth wide open, secretly knowing that mom will always find some way to get me a little something. The smell of kebab from local barbeque places was spreading around and above the entire market. Even today I can still smell it sometimes along with the smell of roast chicken from the joint at the corner. People around us were buying all kinds of things and I couldn't stop my head from turning to all the directions to see them. My mom wouldn't let my hand from her solid grip as the place was crowded. Walking between the stands, from one to the next, mom was pretending to be window shopping (while only checking the prices out). I'm looking at the toys, some trucks and tractors made of plastic, so elusive and unattainable to me... I could never have them, but I surely could look at them all I wanted! I admired everything in the sight, but the most fascinating for me were pens as I'd always wished for one of those modern pens to write with, but they were expensive, too! Mom was nearby buying vegetables picking coins from her small soft wallet with tiny ornaments and a zipper on top! We walked the entire marked up and down and it was really cheerful sight. People's faces looked both tired and relaxed, still, they somehow appeared calm and under that calmness, you could see shades of hard lives, poverty and struggle to survive. In spite of all their troubles, they remained all full of life and cheerful. We entered one of the stores and mom bought half a kilo of sugar, which at that time was sold from a big wooden casket, and a hundred grams of "serklam", a kind of candy with red stripes, usually kept in jars next to the scale. And, she bought a pack of 10 chewing gums shaped like cigarettes and put in a cigarette pack like box - to me. No one was that happy at the moment! I had a whole pack of chewing gum! It was a fortune! I immediately started doing the math and deciding how to split them among myself and my brothers and how many of them I would hide. Mom also taught me that once a chewing gum is not sweet anymore, dipping it into sugar would make it sweet again! I immediately put one of the gums in my mouth and started enjoying it, chewing, making bubbles, walking proudly with my head held high as if mom bought me a crown... The only thing about chewing gums I didn't like was that sometimes I fell asleep with one in my mouth and woke up in the morning with it all stuck in my hair. My mom then had to take scissors and cut a string of my hair with gum in it. Still walking among the market stands, where we've already spent about two hours, we stopped by one of the barbeque shops! My mom started picking change from her wallet, counting over and over as if there were a million dinars there and not just a few silver white and golden yellow coins! The enchanting smell spreading around from the shop chimney made the entire scene look magical to me, leaving me speechless... I didn't understand what was my mother doing counting and calculating with those coins for so long? Suddenly, we walked in, set at one of the tables and mom ordered a glass of water and a glass of soda for me, must be "Jupi" or "Nara". After a while, the man brings over kebabs too, a whole bread bun with two kebabs ... Mom started pinching bread and meat to feed them to my mouth and picking small crumbs of bread and eating them herself, without meat. She was looking away absently only sometimes turning her head towards me, and gently saying while giving me a look full of care: -Go ahead, eat! Eat, darling... There are no words warm enough to picture the warmth of my mother's love and care promising look from her tired mild eyes... And, as always, I again felt cracked skin of her hands when she patted me on my head. A little boy I was I somehow knew mom was worried, but couldn't understand why. I ate one kebab and we packed the rest to go. I would be sorry if I ate it all up immediately, so I didn't. And my mom said she wasn't hungry... I knew though that she hadn't had anything to eat. We headed home... Walking along my mother's side I noticed that we'd just passed by the bus station and kept walking. "Aren't we taking a bus?'' I asked. "It's ok, son, the day is beautiful and we'll just walk home." My mom actually didn't have any money left. I realized then that it was the reason for picking and counting coins back at the market and why she looked so absent and preoccupied with her thoughts back in the BBQ shop. She decided to buy kebabs for me no matter what, she never took a single bite although she was hungry, and I knew that even the explanation for not taking a bus was not true... And she kept walking with me holding her basket, all proud and lightened up... She was happy for she managed to feed hungry eyes of her cheerful curious boy, at least for a little while. I guess my mother as any other one could always tell what I am looking for and thinking about. Only a mother so rich at her poverty, would spend the last coin for her child to be happy, would not eat and pretend she's not hungry only too feed her child and who would walk for miles just to keep her child from feeling bitterness of poverty. She would take the kebab leftovers with her only to bring them home! She didn't mind her basket was heavy, never letting it go while holding my hand all the time walking miles on our way home. I could hear her heavy breathing and feel the pressure in her chest and pain in her feet and heaviness of those cheap shoes... and she never shunned! Just kept walking with her head up. Her steady and confident walk despite all the misery in her life made her hurt rough hand I was holding the warmest thing I've ever felt in my life. She never stopped or said a word all the way home. Never even whispered how tired and hungry she was. She instead took the kebab she brought home out of the greasy paper it was wrapped in and split it between my brothers, and went straight to the kitchen to start cooking lunch. With not one word spoken. Today I'm glad I have those memories to remind me how far a mother would go in her own sacrifice for the sake of her child... To this very day I feel that life in those old times in all its poverty was richer than today's life could ever be! Because being poor isn't not having things but not being happy with what you got! And my mother appreciated what she had and never said I haven't or I can't! The mother who gave herself to us! The mother who sacrificed herself for us! The mother who smiled at us even when her hart was smashed with pain! The mother who is the only person in the world to build entire fortune on only one little smile! The mother whose hands were the softest even with the skin on them all cracked and cut from sun and laundering in cold water! I enjoy memories of my mom today and when I see an elderly woman who you can tell suffered in her life, I see my mom in her. Finally, it's the core reason I write and enjoy writing today. I want to keep reminding myself of a word so short and so heavy with emotion: MOTHER. Promising endless love, deep care and unique feeling of being safe and nothing could ever harm you. And I got myself a really fancy pen so I can write about mother... Dedicated to all the mothers in the world. Text: Smajo Sulejmani

Years of experience: 23. Registered at ProZ.com: Jan 2020.

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Bio

·
Gifted
linguist, fluent in English and Serbian and proficient in Montenegrian, Bosnian and
Croatian. with 18 years experience of simultaneous/consecutive interpreting and
written translation in the leading companies and non-governmental organizations
in Serbia as well as the free-lance translator of a few contemporary literature pieces

·
Independent and self-sufficient,
efficient planner, calm under pressure, keen
to deliver and perform up to expectations

·
Eloquent and skillful communicator,
natural team player; open and easily approachable person, highly adaptable,
creative, team player, encourages and supports diversity, promotes working with
people from different backgrounds, educations, religions, cultures, sexual
orientation etc.

·
Well informed on local, regional and
national circumstances keeping regular contact with acquaintances with economic
and civil sector in Serbia

Advanced computer
user, e.g. latest text and image apps, translation tools, remote work software;
demonstrates enthusiastic use of online platforms and social networks; capable
of basic external accounts administration

Profile last updated
Feb 11, 2020

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