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More Less | Sample translations submitted: 2 | French to English: La douleur de l'Afghan | Source text - French
Il était une fois, dans les années soixante, peut-être, «le pays des
Afghans». Cette vaste contrée s¹étendait des replis des steppes désertiques
jusqu¹aux hautes vallées fertiles, irriguées par les neiges à 6000 m de
l¹Hindukush («qui tue les Hindous»). Au sud, quelques terres cultivables au
microclimat doux, mais c¹était l¹exception. Trente ans de guerres n¹avaient
pas encore semé de mines les campagnes, ni rasé les villages et l¹antique
réseau d¹irrigation. Des millions d¹hommes et de femmes n¹avaient pas dû se
battre ou fuir. Pachtounes, Tadjiks, Hazaras, Turkmènes, Ouzbeks et d¹autres
tribus encore, cohabitaient sur une surface plus grande que la France, avec,
bien sûr, des tensions.
La plupart de ces Afghans, environ neuf millions, cultivaient le blé,
l¹orge, la luzerne, la vigne et les abricots à sécher, sur une saison trop
courte et bien trop rude pour garder du bétail. Ils étaient trois autres
millions à guider des moutons et des chèvres sur les terres arides, ne
restant nulle part plus de vingt-quatre heures, pour ne pas épuiser la flore
éclose sous la rosée.
A la fonte des neiges, les caravanes pénétraient dans les montagnes,
couvertes à perte de vue de tulipes en fleurs. Elles estivaient dans les
hautes vallées, cultivées en terrasses, à 3000 et 4000 m. Elles
redescendaient en août, hiverner au bout de 1500 km, sur la frontière de
l¹Iran et du Pakistan, plus loin dans des temps anciens, avant ces absurdes
séparations.
Les pasteurs transportaient du fromage fermenté dans des pots de terre cuite
et des paniers en vannerie ou en étoffe, calés dans des tapis tissés avec la
laine de leurs propres animaux. Ils échangeaient la viande contre du grain.
Les troupeaux fertilisaient les champs, tandis que les nomades aidaient les
paysans à la récolte et à l¹entretien des canaux. Ils n¹auraient pu survivre
les uns sans les autres. La rareté oblige à la complémentarité. Les villes,
encore très rurales, malgré leur histoire fort ancienne et les dômes d¹azur
de célèbres mosquées, abritaient tout au plus un million d¹habitants.
Aux dires des voyageurs, le pain de ce pays, le lait de ces montagnes, l¹eau
même des ruisseaux exhalait un parfum qui procurait une ivresse
particulière, farhat en langue persane ancienne (dari) comprise de tous. «Si
sur mes cendres un jour pousse du blé /il donnera farhat à qui le mangera».
Dans ce milieu très rude, on récitait des vers à tout propos, histoire de se
rassurer, et de s¹en souvenir. Aujourd¹hui encore l¹étranger s¹enivre de
beauté, mais l¹Afghan ne trouve plus de goût au pain de l¹aide
internationale ; tandis que le pavot, par la force des choses semble-t-il,
envahit les champs de blé.
Il est une autre raison pour la culture orale : le manque d¹eau. 300 mm de
pluie par an, à peine, même si les torrents afghans alimentent d¹aussi
grands fleuves que l¹Indus. Pratiquement pas de forêt. La dernière serait
détruite, dans les années 80, par l¹élevage intensif des chèvres, une idée
des Français, au financement wahabite. Une fois de plus, on s¹acharnera à
moderniser l¹impossible pays. Quoi qu¹il en soit, l¹Afghanistan n¹avait
guère de bois pour se chauffer : les arbustes annuels de la haute montagne
servaient à allumer le feu, et leurs graines tombaient au passage des
troupeaux. La région n¹offrait pas de matière première pour fabriquer du
papier. Pas de livres de classe donc, ni de cahiers, sauf privilège. Pas de
registre administratif, ni cadastre, ni recensement.
L¹école publique touchait au plus 3 % de la population. Les familles
éduquaient entièrement les enfants, leur montrant les gestes reçus des aïeux
: la terre que l¹on soigne et que l¹on modèle, la laine dont on réduit le
volume par le filage, les plantes pour la teindre et celles qui guérissent,
le travail des matières nobles, métaux, pierres et os, l¹amour du beau. On
scandait les mille préceptes indispensables pour demeurer en vie et libre :
«attention où tu mets le pied, respecte la vie» Autrement dit, par
Muslah-al- din Saadi (1200-1291), «ne dérange pas cette fourmi qui ¦uvre
pour vivre et s¹en trouve heureuse»; le grand-père ajoutait : «elle
travaille pour toi». Chacun pouvait citer des centaines de vers en nommant
leur auteur et raconter des paraboles en désignant un symbole sur un objet
ou un tapis..
Les familles nomades devenues trop nombreuses cherchaient des terres
fertiles pour y fixer quelques-uns des leurs. Leurs frères errants portaient
les nouvelles, et les messages urgents allaient à cheval, depuis cinq mille
ans. Caravaniers ou paysan, un même peupleŠ Dans cette existence précaire,
la prévoyance signifiait prudence, égards et hospitalité. Le père
interloquait l¹enfant : «ne vend pas ton tapis, même pour dix mille dollars,
dans le désert, car tu mourras de froid sur ton tas de billets et l¹acheteur
reprendra l¹argent sur ton cadavre». Mais de Saadi encore : «les êtres
humains forment un seul corps/ étant faits de la même essence/ Si un membre
tombe malade / le corps souffre tout entier» Le quatrain figure inscrit dans
l¹amphithéâtre de l¹assemblée générale des Nations Unies à New York.
La culture afghane avait reçu et étudié les grandes religions du dehors :
Bouddhisme, Zoroastrisme, Islam. Elle avait permis la greffe unique de l¹art
Greco Bouddhique, producteur de merveilles. Elle a gardé jusqu'au 20ème
siècle, la tradition d¹écoles appelées Madrassa-é nazmia ou «écoles
universelles», à ne pas confondre avec les Madrassas des mosquées, ou, plus
récemment, des Taliban. L¹école islamique doone des rudiments de religion et
de lecture du Coran, elles n¹enseigne pas l¹art d¹écrire. L¹école
universelle formait garçons et filles de certaines familles et de leurs
serviteurs. Elle a subsisté parce que l¹Afghanistan était le château fort et
le refuge des coûtumes de la Perse, après avoir été celui de Bactriane.
Cette école a produit de grands noms de l¹art et de la littérature : le
peintre Bhezod, le savant Umar Khayyàm (1050-1123) inventeur de l¹inconnue x
en algèbre, les poètes Farid al-din Attar (1150-1220), auteur de La
Conférence des oiseaux, Shams-al-din-Muhamad Hàfiz (1320-1399), que Goethe a
vénéré, le philosophe pachtou Khatak, auteur des Trésors cachés, la poètesse
soufi Nazo Ana, et, au 20ème siècle, Said Djamaloudin Afghani. Ils y ont
appris la calligraphie, la géométrie, les mathématiques, la musique,
l¹astronomie, la philosophie et la religion, l¹art de broyer des pigments
pour obtenir des couleurs et le goût de la perfection. Cette écoles formait
surtout, à croire ceux qui s¹en souviennent, à la concentration, au regard,
à l¹écoute, à la maîtrise du souffle. Le contrôle de soi conduit à
l¹ouverture.
C¹est par la répétition sans cesse, en litanie, que les poèmes, ensuite,
passaient dans la société, avide de les redire et remémorer - si la morale
en était belle. Il y avait des soirées de joutes poétiques, récitations de
fables, proverbes et contes, sur des thèmes choisis. Des sadous
magnifiquement vêtus allaient de porte en porte chanter les épopées de
l¹Islam. Les Taliban les ont bannis. Que sont-ils devenus ? Qui s¹en soucie
? Des fanatiques ont abêti les jeunes garçons, ne s¹assurant même pas qu¹ils
puissent déchiffrer ce qu¹ils ânonnent et enfermé les filles dans
l¹ignorance. Mais la nouvelle école afghane que peut-elle leur offrir hormis
l¹anglais de la rue et le goût du clavier ?
Au pays des Afghans, une ramette de papier vaut plus d¹un mois de salaire.
Le tapis de la laine du troupeau ne coûte, en revanche que de la patience.
En lui-même, c¹est une école. Le filage enseigne à manier les volumes,
opération physique; la teinture initie à la chimie, le montage de la trame
au calcul et à l¹évaluation des besoins; le tissage rend perceptible
l¹espace-temps. En ces matières, les grandsparents conseillent les enfants
qui apprennent ensemble. Les motifs du tapis ouvrent sur l¹univers. La
bordure figure un voyage ou un labyrinthe, notre passage ici-bas.
L¹alternance du clair et du sombre dépeint celle du jour et de la nuit. Le
losange, partout réitéré, évoque l¹unité de la vie, la cellule vivante et,
dans un autre losange, le germe de vie. La croix trace la transcendance, la
verticalité. Les étoiles indiquent le destin. Le tapis par son humilité
incite au silence et à méditer.
Pour reprendre les vers de Bédel, mort en 1720 : «toute la vie j¹ai trinqué
avec toi / mon art procède de l¹amertume de cette ivresse/ cela fait si mal
que tu ne puisses pas passer d'une rive à l¹autre»Š ni jamais comprendre
l¹Afghanistan.
© Marie-Paule Nougaret et Habib Haider 2004
| Translation - English
The Afghan's suffering
Once upon a time, in the sixties perhaps, there was a "country of the
Afghani". This vast land stretched from the innermost reaches of the desert
steppes to the fertile high valleys irrigated by the melting snows of the
Hindu Kush, or "killer of Hindus". To the south lay some agricultural lands
where the climate was exceptionally mild. The countryside had not yet been
sown with the landmines of a thirty-year war; the villages and the ancient
irrigation network had not been razed. Millions of women and men had not
been forced to fight or flee. Pashtuns, Tajiks, Hazaras, Turkmen, Uzbeks and
other tribes lived side by side, at peace more or less, on an area the size
of France.
Most of these Afghanis, some 9 million, cultivated wheat, barley, alfalfa, grapes and apricots to dry. The climate was too rough and seasons too short to raise livestock. Three million others led sheep and goats over the arid earth, stopping no more than 24 hours in any area, so they would not overgraze the flora beneath the morning dew.
When the snow melted, caravans entered the mountains, which were covered with tulips in bloom as far as the eye could see. Summering at 3000 to 4000 meters [9,000 to 12,000 feet] in the terrace-cultivated valleys, they came back down in August, travelling 1500 kilometers [750 miles] to spend the winter on the border between Iran and Pakistan; in ancient times they travelled further, before those absurd separations.
Shepherds transported fermented cheese in earthenware or baskets, which they secured between rugs woven from their own animals‚ wool. They traded meat for grain. Fields were fertilized with manure from the herds, while nomads helped peasants to harvest and repair the canals. One could not survive without the other. Scarcity calls for complementarities. Cities, still rural
in spite of their ancient history and the famous sky blue domes of their mosques, sheltered at most one million people.
Travellers would say that the bread from this country, the milk from these mountains, even the water from the brooks, exhaled a perfume which instilled a special kind of intoxication, or "fahrat" in dari, the ancient Persian language which everyone understood. "If on my ashes, one day wheat should
sprout, it will give fahrat to the one who eats of it". In this harsh environment, verses were uttered for any occasion, for comfort and remembrance. Nowadays, the foreigner can still be carried away by the beauty, but Afghans find the bread of international aid tasteless, while poppies seem to spread by force of circumstances over the wheat fields.
There was another reason for the oral culture: the lack of water. Barely 30 millimeters of rain a year, even though Afghan mountain streams feed rivers as big as the Indus. There are almost no forests. The last one would be destroyed, during the eighties, by intensive goat raising--a French idea financed by the Wahabite. Once again, modernisation was forced upon that
untameable land. In any case, Afghanistan lacked wood for fuel. Annual bushes from the high grazing-land were used to light fires and their seeds fell as he herds went by. The region did not yield the resources to make paper. So there were no books or writing paper in classrooms, except for the privileged. Neither were there registries, cadastres, or censuses.
Public schooling was available, at most, to three percent of the population. Families alone educated their children, showing them the ancestral skills: how to care for the earth and how to shape it, how to spin wool to reduce its volume, which plants to use for colouring and which for healing, how to work precious matter, metals, stones and bone, the love of beauty. A thousand precepts, indispensable to remaining alive and free, were retold: "beware where you set foot, show respect for life." Or, put in another way, as Muslah-al-din Saadi (1200-1291) said: "Do not disturb the ant that labours to live and enjoys " ; the grandfather would add: "It is working for you" Everyone could recount hundreds of verses and the authors' names, as well as recite parables while pointing out selected symbols on an object or a rug.
Nomad families, as they grew too large, would search for fertile lands where
some of their members could settle. Their roaming brothers brought the news
while urgent messages travelled by horse, as they had for 5,000 years. Caravaneers or farmers, they were one and the same people. In this precarious life, foresight meant prudence, consideration and hospitality. A father would startle his son: "Do not sell your rug in the desert, not even for ten thousand dollars, for you would die in the cold on your mattress of bills. The buyer would take his money back on your corpse. "Or in Saadii"s words: "human beings form one body, made of the same essence, if one member is ailing, the whole body suffers" This quatrain is inscribed in the amphitheater of the General Assembly of the United Nations in New York.
Afghan culture accepted and studied the main foreign religions: Buddhism, Zoroastrism, Islam. Its unique grafting of Greek and Buddhist art produced marvels. It perpetuated up to the 20th century the traditional Madrassa-énazmia schools, or "universal schools", not to be confused with the Madrassas of the mosques, or more recently, those of the Taliban. Islamic schools teach basic notions of religion and Koran reading; they never taught
the art of writing. The universal school would educate boys and girls of certain families and their servants. It survived because Afghanistan was the stronghold and refuge of Persian customs, and of Bactrian customs before that.
Great names in art and literature come from these schools: Bhezod, the painter; Umar Khayyàm (1050-1123), the scholar who invented the unknown value "X" in algebra; the poets Farid al-din Attar (1150-1220), author of "The conference of the birds", and Shams-al-din-Muhamad Hàfiz (1320-1399), venerated by Goethe; the Pashtun philosopher, Khatak, author of the "Hidden Treasures"; the female Sufi poet Nazo Ana and, in the 20th century, Said Djamaloudin Afghani. They were taught calligraphy, geometry, mathematics, music, astronomy, philosophy and religion, how to grind pigments for colours, and a yearning for the perfect. The schools, if we are to believe those who remember, mainly taught how to concentrate, look carefully, listen, and control breathing. Mastery of self leads to openness.
Endlessly repeated as litanies, poems would be passed on to a society eager
to retell and memorize them, when the teaching was good. There were evenings with poetry contests, and recitations of fables, proverbs and tales on chosen themes. Beautifully clothed Sadhus would sing the epic poems of Islam from door to door. The Talibans banished them. What happened to them? Who cares? Fanatics have turned boys into half-wits, by not making sure they could decipher what they were droning out. They have jailed girls into ignorance. What will the new Afghan schools offer them but street English and a taste for the keyboard?
In the country of the Afghani, a ream of paper costs over a month's salary. The rug made from the herder's wool, on the other hand, demands only patience. It is a school in and of itself. Spinning teaches the handling of materials, which is physics; dyeing teaches chemistry; mounting of the warp, computation and estimation of needs; weaving reveals the space-time relationship. Grandparents teach these topics to children, who learn together. A rug's designs open to the universal. Its borders depict a journey or a labyrinth, our passage on this earth. Light and dark alternate to represent day and night. The diamond shape, ever so present, evokes the unity of life, the living cell and, in another form, the germ of life. The cross reflects transcendence, the vertical. The stars suggest destiny. The rug, in its humility, invites silence and meditation.
To cite these lines from Bédel, who died in 1720: "All my life, I drank with
you; my art stems from the hangover; it hurts so much that you cannot cross
from one bank to the other", nor ever understand Afghanistan.
Habib Haider & Marie-Paule Nougaret Translation by Ode Grille, proofreading :Marco Ermacora & revision Marc Tognotti © 2004
Version française en ligne : http://atos.ouvaton.org/article.php3?id_article=75
| English to French: The Ant and the Grasshopper
General field: Art/Literary
Detailed field: Poetry & Literature | Source text - English
The Ant and the Grasshopper
While lounging on a floating lily a carefree grasshopper puffed on a tiny harmonica. After playing a jaunty tune, he hollered to a colony of bustling ants as they filed by. "Fellas, fellas, slow down. You're working way too hard." Each ant toiled with a grain he carried from a nearby field to an underground storage room. "Come on, guys, it's a beautiful summer afternoon. Take a load off. Come dangle your busy little tootsies in the pool—or better yet, grab a partner and sashay on over. I'm just getting warmed up! Besides, all your marching is messing up my rhythm!"
One serious little ant stepped out of line. "We are gathering food for winter, sir, and if you don't mind a little friendly advice, I suggest you do the same." And without another word he balanced a kernel of corn on his head and shuffled back to the procession.
The grasshopper scoffed, "The sun is warm, the water cool, my belly is full. I think I'll take a little nap. You boys have a nice day." He sipped his drink and sang himself to sleep.
A few months later, the starving grasshopper trudged through deep snow to the anthill and begged for a morsel of food. He recognized the ant that spoke to him by the pool. "Mr. Grasshopper, I can see you've changed your tune. A fool who sings away the summer, dances a hungry jig in winter."
IT IS BEST TO FINISH YOUR CHORES BEFORE YOU PLAY.
| Translation - French
La fourmi et le grillon
Allongé sur un nénuphar flottant, un grillon insouciant jouait de l'harmonica. À la fin de son air joyeux, il interpella la colonie trépidante de fourmis qui défilait non loin de là. « Hé les ti-gars, ne courez donc pas comme ça. Vous travaillez bien trop. » Chaque fourmi, à grand effort, transportait un grain du champ voisin jusque dans un garde-manger souterrain. « Allons les amis, c'est l'été, il fait beau et chaud. Lâchez le boulot. Venez plonger dans l'eau vos petons sans repos ; ou mieux encore, amenez un copain jusqu'ici, écouter la suite de ma symphonie ! Car à la vérité, le rythme de vos bottes trouble mon harmonie ! »
L'air grave, une petite fourmi sortit du rang. « Nous faisons des provisions pour l'hiver, monsieur et si vous me permettez un petit conseil amical en passant, vous feriez bien d'en faire autant. » Sans ajouter un mot de plus, elle chargea en équilibre sur sa tête un grain de maïs et rejoignit la procession d'un pas alourdi.
Le grillon se moqua : « le soleil est chaud, l'eau fraîche et mon ventre bien rempli. Je crois que je vais faire une petite sieste. Bonne journée, les fillettes. » Ayant avalé sa boisson, il s'endormit en fredonnant une chanson.
Quelques mois plus tard, le grillon affamé se traînait dans la neige épaisse jusqu'à la fourmilière pour y quêter un morceau à grignoter. Il reconnut la fourmi qu'il avait croisée près de l'eau. « Monsieur le grillon, vous avez changé de chanson. Le fol qui chante tout l'été, danse de faim à l'hiver arrivé. »
MIEUX VAUT FINIR SES CORVÉES AVANT D'ALLER JOUER.
|
More Less | | audace, expressions, ode's, Sp-FR | | Bachelor's degree - University of Calgary | | Years of translation experience: 35. Registered at ProZ.com: Oct 2002. Became a member: Nov 2002. | | N/A | | N/A | | Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Excel, Microsoft Word, Powerpoint, SDLX, Wordfast | | http://proz.com?sp=partprof&eid_s=42009 | | French (DOC) | Webinar on Wordfast CAT tool  [download] | | Second ProZ.com Translation Contest 2007: English to French | | Odette Grille endorses ProZ.com's Professional Guidelines (v1.0). | | About me Le CV en français peut être téléchargé (voir rubrique CV/Resume ci-avant) .
For contact, you may also use msn or Skype
Ecology, Policitcs, Health, Mycology, Fine Arts, Education, Marketing, Publicity,environmental assessment, mining, construction, human rights, conscientious objection, minorities, travels, plants, photography, jewelry, sports, agriculture, GMOs, linguistics, poetry, food, assembling, toys, ingredients, administrative, sciences, cinema, literary, music.
RESUME
Odette Grille
apt. 36 – 3553 St Urbain H2X 2N6 Montreal QC
Tel.: (514) 286 6958
e-mail: griode@colba.net
odetteshg@hotmail.com
PROFESSIONAL EXPERIENCE:
I have over thirty years experience in interpretation and translation within diverse and various fields.
I am a member of Proz.com: http://www.proz.com/?sp=profile&eid_s=42009&sp_mode=profile&visitor=1
I have been sent as a journalist-translator to report on court proceedings against conscientious objectors in France and Turkey, on behalf of War Resisters International (1992-96).
I won a Proz.com literary translation contest.
I passed ISO certification in the following fields : Branding, Marketing and Consulting, Journalism, Publications, Food and Beverage ; Finance, Human Resources and Life Sciences.
I also interpret for Call centres.
I am one of the translators who worked on Birk's and Bureau en Gros' websites, as well as for UNICEF Canada and USAID.
I worked for a year as a Logistician for Setym, a company training adults from different parts of the world in project management (linked to IMF).
I am trained in test and survey translation/adaptation (seminar Association of Test Publishers) and have worked for such clients as Transperfect (medical), Brainjuicer, and others.
I am experienced in film dialogues (publicity or fiction) , i.e. translating accurately with 10% or less more characters per line in French as in English.
SOME EXAMPLES (News articles and books):
Tish Cohen : Little black lies, Hurtubise ed. (2010)
Donald Fyson : Magistrates, police and people: everyday criminal justice in Quebec and Lower Canada, 1764-1837 Hurtubise ed., Canada Council for the Arts (2009)
Saddrudin Aga Khan : Was Jimmy Goldsmith right ? in: Le piège se referme. Plon ed. (2002)
McRae, Hubert: Human Security and the New Diplomacy
(under the supervision of Michel Butiens).
Vanadana Shiva: Captive minds, captive lives
(in collaboration with Marie-Paule Nougaret).
Various articles on biopiracy, ecology, organic agriculture and the environment (The Ecologist and other magazines).
Le Courrier International: The Monsanto Files
Medical popularization works (for Reader’s Digest):
Ageing well after 50
Vitamins and minerals for your health.
Herbs and supplements for your health.
Press and web releases (Yes-Canada, Izuma…).
Emergent authorship: the next interactive revolution, by Celia Pearce
Knowledge workers : how to make the most of their resources, by Graham S. Lowe
Economic growth and IT development in the U.S., by Dale W.Jorgenson
The importance of IT : a comparison Canada-U.S., by Baldwin, Harchaoui and Tarkhani
Substance abuse juvenile courts : Youth Criminal Justice Act, by Darlene James and Ed Sawka (with Tradulitech).
CRIC papers (with Tradulitech)
Romantic short stories (éd. Del Ducas, Paris.)
Experience prior to the last fifteen years:
I was a model and interpreter at three ready-to-wear fashion shows, in Paris (1980s).
I worked some 10 years as location manager, and later production manager on various films (cinema and advertising) with multilingual teams.
I have also worked a few years in the advertising business as location manager and production manager.
Translation of a poem from Old French to Modern French (in octosyllabic verse) subsequently published in the doctorate thesis of Dr. Donovan, my master’s degree supervisor.
Co-founder and vice-president of "Mirror Image Ltd.", Calgary (1975-1977).
Translator AND interpreter for “Traductor”, Paris
and “Traductor”, Montréal.
Translator for the French Language Secretary of State (Canada 1979) with commendations.
Business-English teacher for “Linguaphone”, Paris.
French teacher for “Berlitz”, Calgary.
Teaching assistant (university-level language laboratories) for French and Spanish at the University of Calgary, Alberta.
EDUCATION
Lycée Paul Valéry, Paris, France
High School diploma, philosophy stream.
University of Calgary
B.A. with Honors: Majored in Comparative Literature (French, Spanish, German, English),
Curriculum included: old French and English, linguistics, semantics and phonetics, education, media, sociology, history, drama ...
University of Nice, France
English society and literature during the industrial revolution (in English); Spanish and South American history (in Spanish)
OTHER INTERESTS:
Mycology.
Photography and Arts.
Cinema and publicity.
Poetry.
Music.
Drama.
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The translation workplace 
Odette Grille 
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