Working languages: Hungarian to EnglishGerman to EnglishFrench to EnglishItalian to EnglishLatin to English Greek (Ancient) to EnglishRussian to EnglishTurkish to EnglishEnglish (monolingual)Czech to EnglishSpanish to English
|   Jim Tucker
History, Art, Music; Screenplays
New York, United States
Native in: English  | | |
Freelancer,  Verified member | | Translation, Interpreting, Editing/proofreading, Website localization, Voiceover (dubbing), Subtitling, Training | | Specializes in: | | History | Art, Arts & Crafts, Painting | | Poetry & Literature | Cinema, Film, TV, Drama | | Music | Social Science, Sociology, Ethics, etc. | | Religion | Linguistics |
| Also works in: | | Anthropology | Architecture | | Geography | Philosophy | | Science (general) | Archaeology |
More Less | | PRO-level points: 1227, Questions answered: 595, Questions asked: 1 | 4 entriesAccess to Blue Board comments is restricted for non-members. Click the outsourcer name to view the Blue Board record and see options for gaining access to this information.
More Less | Sample translations submitted: 5 | Hungarian to English: Golden Age (Sugár) | Source text - Hungarian
Sugár János
Aranykorszak
Az időutazás közelfogadott cáfolata az, hogy a megvalósult időutazás jeleit már a jelenben is érzékelnünk kellene. Ugyanis, ha egyszer valamikor a jövőben tényleg megvalósul, akkor annak a jelenünkre is azonnal ki kell, hogy hasson működése. Természetesen amikor már a jelenünk könnyűszerrel manipulálható lesz múltként. A cáfolat logikája feltételezi, hogy jelenünk érintetlen és autentikus: úgy tartják, hogy nyoma sincs benne semmiféle olyan zavarnak, ami arra utalna, hogy az idő nem egyirányú; és ez csak egyet jelenthet, hogy tehát a jövőben sem lesz időutazás, következésképpen fölösleges a drága jelent ilyesmire pocsékolni. Pedig könnyen meglehet, hogy oly nagy tömegek utaznak a múltba és szintúgy a jövőbe, hogy a jelen fogalomként, csak mint a jövőbe utazás állapota létezhet. A múltba utazás állapota pedig a halál. A világ e két alapvető irány keveredéseinek területe.
Az aranykorban az idő pénz. Időt lehet vásárolni, vesz mondjuk az ember egy pakli percet. Van olcsó idő - ez gyorsan múlik. A jómódúak sok és szép időkkel rendelkeznek; a szegények pedig kevéssel és rosszal; így például karácsonykor bonthatnak csak fel egy-egy jobb napot, hogy a szeretet ünnepe tovább tartson. Ållami ünnepek alkalmával a vezetők a nép közé időt szórnak, de pukkannak a percek a mozik, színházak nézőterén, és a magánélet különböző intim pillanataiban is.
Van tölthető idő, melyet elhasználva egy korábban rögzített élményt lehet újból átélni, illetve időt lehet elraktározni a későbbiekre. Világos, hogy ez ugyanannyi idő elvesztésével is jár, megkurtítva ezzel az elsőáldozás, diplomaátvátel, esküvő boldog perceit. A tehetősebbek kellemetlen élményeiket is megrövidíthetik. A fájdalom vagy a szégyen emígy felgyülemlő perceit a rendőrség begyüjti, hogy a rendbontókkal szemben legyen mivel fellépni. Civilek csak külön engedéllyel tarthattak szégyen tartalmú időt otthon. Szinte azonnal kialakult a városi folklorban a zugidő feketepiaca. Egy-egy kerület népszerűbb emberei, szép nők és különfajta őrültek kezdték házilag töltött szégyen-idejeiket árusítani. A pongyolán megfogalmazott címkék néha kellemetlen meglepetéseket rejtettek, de persze voltak jócskán, kiket éppen ez vonzott: eljártak külvárosi nőcskékhez és órákat vettek tőlük! | Translation - English
The Golden Age
János Sugár
One generally accepted refutation of the possibility of time travel is that we would expect to perceive signs of successful time travel in the present: if it ever really comes to pass in the future, then its effects must also leave their mark on our present – this of course once our present is easily manipulable as a past. The logic of this refutation presupposes that our present is undisturbed and authentic, that it contains no trace of any disturbance hinting that time might be something other than a one-way street. This in turn can only mean that there will not be time travel in the future either, so consequently there is no sense wasting the precious present on such things. Yet it could easily be that such enormous crowds are traveling into the past and present that the present can only exist as a concept: it is the state of traveling into the future. The state of traveling into the past, though, is death itself. The world is the area where these two fundamental directions mingle.
In the Golden Age, time is money. You can buy time – you buy a pack of minutes, say. Some time is cheap, and goes fast. The affluent have all kinds of time, and beautiful ones at that; the poor have very few, and those are of poor quality, so they would be forced to open up one or two of their better days around Christmas, for example, to make it last longer. On state holidays, the leaders sprinkle time among the people, but the minutes still pop like bubbles in theaters and movie houses and in the sundry intimate moments of private life.
There is fillable time too: using it, you can relive a previously recorded experience, or you can store time away for later. This obviously involves a loss of just as much time, truncating those happy minutes of first confirmation, the graduation ceremony, or wedding. Those of greater means may even shorten their unpleasant experiences; the minutes of pain or humiliation that then accumulate are collected by the police to be used against lawbreakers. Civilians require a special permit to store humiliation minutes at home. Of course it was no time at all before a black market in underground time became part of urban culture as the more popular residents of certain districts, as well as beautiful women and odd madmen began to sell their own homemade humiliation time. There were some unpleasant surprises in store if the label description was ill-formulated – but of course, for some, this was actually one of the attractions: they went to girls in the outlying districts to get an hour! | | Spanish to English: Ronaldo Menéndez, "Insular Menu" | Source text - Spanish
Vi el populoso mar que rodea la isla, y del mar vi redes y de las redes vi muchedumbres de camarones y langostinos, los vi poblando largas mesas familiares bajo rostros risueños, vi fuentes de aguacates en lascas y lascas y lascas, haciendo de la cerámica una cebra verde, vi rabo de toro encendido bajo crema de ají, vi pulpos y calamares ahogados en su tinta, vi plátanos, mameyes, caimitos, zapotes, anones, chirimoyas y mangos, vi langostas de talla extra larga dejando que su olor tocara por igual todas las narices... | Translation - English
I saw the teeming sea that rings the island, and in the sea I saw nets and in the nets I saw numberless shrimp and prawns. I saw them covering long family tables to smiling faces, and I saw slices and slices and slices of avocado that made a green zebra of the plate. I saw the glint of oxtail in chili sauce, and squid and octopus awash in their own ink. I saw plantains and mameys and star apples and sapotes and sweetsop and chirimoyas and mangos. I saw jumbo lobsters reaching every nose indiscriminately ... | | Italian to English: Umberto Saba Ulisse | Source text - Italian
Ulisse
Umberto Saba
Nella mia giovanezza ho navigato
lungo le coste dalmate. Isolotti
a fior d’onda emergevano, ove raro
un uccello sostava intento a prede,
coperti d’alghe, scivolosi, al sole
belli come smeraldi. Quando l’alta
marea e la notte li annullava, vele
sottovento sbandavano più al largo,
per sfuggirne l’insidia. Oggi il mio regno
è quella terra di nessuno. Il porto
accende ad altri i suoi lumi, me al largo
sospinge ancora il non domato spirito,
e della vita il doloroso amore. | Translation - English
Ulysses
In younger days I sailed the Dalmatian coast:
Budding islands capped the crest of waves (and now and then
A bird would hover, fixed on prey) --
Seaweed-covered, slippery, and lovely
As emeralds in the sun. When high
Tide and nightfall took them back, sails
On beat to windward would give them wider berth
To slip their trap. Today, my kingdom
Is that no-man’s land. The port is lit
For others; me an untamed spirit
Drives wide in the world,
And an aching love for life.
--translated from the Italian
©1996 Jim Tucker
| German to English: Venice Architecture Biennale text
Detailed field: Architecture | Source text - German
Laszlo Glozer
Die Giardini sind ein magischer Ort. Wer sie durchstreift, erlebt entlang der einander fremden Architekturen Glanz und Elend der Moderne als Zeitreise. Eine betriebsame Nekropolis tut sich auf, mit Spuren der permanenten Verwandlung, paradox und vital. Die Geschichte spukt hier und nicht nur die der Kunst. Sehr seltsam. Einzigartig. Auch: schön.
Eigentlich sind die Giardini bloß der Schauplatz der venezianischen Biennale, jenes unverwüstlichen Ausstellungsunternehmens, das es wundersame weise geschafft hat, seit über hundert Jahren zu bestehen und mehr oder weniger exakt im Zweijahres-Rhythmus zeitgenössische Kunst mit internationalem Anspruch zu zeigen. Von 1895 bis heute - da summiert sich die Geschichte der modernen Kunst. Zumal einen Reflex davon, Momentaufnahmen in kaleidoskopischer Brechung, haben die Biennalen immerzu eingefangen.
Abseits der Kunstmetropolen und ohnehin in Distanz zur Radikalität des Avantgarde-Geschehens, trat die stets umstrittene Biennale dabei nicht so sehr als Premiere-Ort oder gar als Laboratorium der neuen Kunst hervor: sie bewährte sich vielmehr als zunehmend erweitertes Parade- und Wettbewerbsforum für durchaus unterschiedliche Filtrate aus der aktuellen Produktion. Zwischen zentraler Lenkung und nationaler Eigenständigkeit ehrgeizig lavierend, erbrachten die bestellten Kuratoren und die Länderkommissare noch jedesmal jene verwirrend unüberschaubare Mixtur, aus der die herbeigereisten Auguren das Stimmungsbild für die Großwetterlage der Kunst zu erstellen hatten. Trend, Mode, Mentalitätswechsel: die Kunde aus Venedig sollte Wirkung zeigen. | Translation - English
Laszlo Glozer
The Giardini are a magical place. To pass through them is to experience both the brilliance and wretchedness of the modern age, a journey through time among architectures alien to one another. An active necropolis yields itself up, providing traces of a permanent metamorphosis that is at once paradoxical and vital. History - not just art history - is haunted here. This is very rare, in fact unparalleled. And beautiful.
The Giardini are really just the setting for the Venice Biennale, an irrepressible enterprise of exhibition that has miraculously existed for more than a hundred years, exhibiting contemporary art of international quality at fairly consistent two-year intervals, from 1895 to the present day; this encompasses the entire history of Modern Art, and one reflection of it in particular: the Biennale has always provided a kaleidoscopic array of snapshots. Away from the urban centers of art, and just as far from the radical avant-garde, the ever-controversial Biennale has served not so much as venue for premieres or a laboratory for new art, but rather has turned into an ever-expanding forum in which widely divergent elements, filtrates of the contemporary scene, parade in rivalry. Maneuvering ambitiously between central control and national independence, the appointed curators and commissioners from all countries involved have always managed to present a bewildering and seemingly endless mixture, providing, for the augurs who converge here, a basis for determining the climate in the world of art. Trends, fashions, and changes in mentality would be the expected fruits of the tidings from Venice.
The rest of this article is visible here. | | Hungarian to English: Babits Mihály, Esti kérdés | Source text - Hungarian
Esti kérdés
Midőn az est, e lágyan takaró
fekete, síma bársonytakaró,
melyet terít egy óriási dajka,
a féltett földet lassan eltakarja
s oly óvatossan, hogy minden füszál
lágy leple alatt egyenessen áll
és nem kap a virágok szirma ráncot
s a hímes lepke kényes, dupla szárnyán
nem veszti a szivárványos zománcot
és úgy pihennek e lepelnek árnyán,
e könnyü, síma, bársonyos lepelnek,
hogy nem is érzik e lepelt tehernek:
olyankor bárhol járj a nagyvilágban,
vagy otthon ülhetsz barna, bús szobádban,
vagy kávéházban bámészan vigyázd,
hogy gyujtják sorban a napfényü gázt;
vagy fáradtan, domb oldalán, ebeddel
nézzed a lombon át a lusta holdat;
vagy országúton, melyet por lepett el,
álmos kocsisod bóbiskolva hajthat;
vagy a hajónak ingó padlatán
szédülj, vagy a vonatnak pamlagán;
vagy idegen várost bolygván keresztül
állj meg a sarkokon csodálni restül
a távol utcák hosszú fonalát,
az utcalángok kettős vonalát;
vagy épp a vízi városban, a Riván
hol lángot apróz matt opáltükör,
merengj a messze multba visszaríván,
melynek emléke édesen gyötör,
elmúlt korodba, mely miként a bűvös
lámpának képe van is már, de nincs is,
melynek emléke sohse lehet hűvös,
melynek emléke teher is, de kincs is:
ott emlékektől terhes fejedet
a márványföldnek elcsüggesztheted:
csupa szépség közt és gyönyörben járván
mégis csak arra fogsz gondolni gyáván:
ez a sok szépség mind mire való?
mégis arra fogsz gondolni árván:
minek a selymes víz, a tarka márvány?
minek az est, e szárnyas takaró?
miért a dombok és miért a lombok
s a tenger, melybe nem vet magvető?
minek az árok, minek az apályok
s a felhők, e bús Danaida-lányok
s a nap, ez égő szizifuszi kő?
miért az emlékek, miért a multak?
miért a lámpák és miért a holdak?
miért a végét nem lelő idő?
vagy vedd példának a piciny füszálat:
miért nő a fü, hogyha majd leszárad?
miért szárad le, hogyha újra nő? | Translation - English
Mihály Babits: Evening Question (Esti kérdés)
As the softly blanketing evening,
smooth silken blanket of blackness
overspread by some tremendous nursemaid,
slowly envelops the guarded earth
and with such care that every blade of grass
stands straight up in its gentle wrap
and not a wrinkle frights the petals of flowers
and the shiny rainbow-glaze shows still
on butterflies' fragile twofold wings
who rest so in the shadow of this veil,
this light, smooth, silken veil,
that it burdens them not:
Then wherever you be in the world's wide dome,
perhaps at home in your sad, brown room,
or watching in wonder at the coffeehouse table
as the sunlight-gas lamps light up one by one,
or wearied on hillside, gazing with dog
through branches at the lazy moon;
or on the dustveiled highway,
as your sleep-eyed coachman
noddingly drives the steed along;
or dizzied on ship's swelling deck,
or seated perchance on a rolling train;
or, wandering through an unknown town
you stop at a corner to wonder
at the filament threads of distant streets,
at the street-flames' double line;
or even on the Riva's waterfront bank
where dull opal mirror dices flame –
Then sink into watery longing for long ago,
whose memory pains so sweetly, long
for your days that have passed, that are,
and are not, like the water-light of that magic lamp,
whose memory cannot leave you cold,
whose memory's a burden, though pure gold:
There may you droop your remembrance-laden head
down to the marble earth:
Then, as you drift through beauty and splendor, still
a cowardly thought will seize you there:
Wherefore this beauty in such abound?
A desperate thought will seize you there:
This silky water, dappled marble – Why?
Why the winged blanket of evening?
Why the hills' sloping, branches' coping
and the sea that receives no sower's seed?
Wherefore the currents and their tides
and those downcast Danaïd clouds
and Sisyphus' burning stone, the Sun?
What serve memories and all times past?
Why the moon and why the lamps?
Wherefore the endless stream of time?
Or consider the tiniest blade of grass:
Why would it grow, to dry and pass?
Why would it dry, again to grow?
-translated from the Hungarian
©1994 Jim Tucker
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More Less | | PhD - University of Michigan, Ann Arbor | | Years of translation experience: 20. Registered at ProZ.com: Feb 2007. Became a member: Mar 2007. | | N/A | Greek (Ancient) to English (PhD Classical Philology UMich Ann Arbor)
English (PhD Classical Philology Univ of Michigan Ann Arbor)
French to English (PhD Philology U Mich Ann Arbor)
German to English (PhD Philology, UMich )
Latin to English (PhD Classical Philology, University of Michigan, A)
Greek (Ancient) to English (PhD Classical Philology, University of Michigan, A)
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More Less | | N/A | | Microsoft Word, Celtx, Final Draft | | Jim Tucker endorses ProZ.com's Professional Guidelines (v1.0). | | About me PhD in Classical Philology
Full-time translator since 1989
Screenplays translated and edited; screenplay turnaround in under two weeks. Screenplay translations can be delivered in all standard formats. To keep your budget people at bay, an option for flat-rate pricing is available that covers any revisions made by the author(s) subsequent to the translation.
Prose texts: specialist in Central European themes in the 20th century, particularly in the fields of history, literature, and the arts. Translation of academic articles dealing with all aspects of Anglo-European literature and culture.
Extensive translation of documents pertaining to history, social history, and music, from German, French, Italian, and Hungarian. My translations in these fields and from these languages have appeared in Harper's, Dissent, Common Knowledge, The Hungarian Quarterly, World Literature Today, and other periodicals.
Hungarian authors I have translated include György Konrád, Lajos Parti Nagy, Dezső Tandori, G. György Kardos, Mihály Kornis, the cultural historian Miklós Peternák, and director/screenwriter Ágnes Kocsis, a Cannes Festival prizewinner.
Extensive experience in translation of opera libretti: DE IT FR HU RU --> EN
_______________________________________________________________
Recent and forthcoming published translations include:
New York Times Op-Ed, January 19, 2012, "Hungary's Junk Democracy," by George Konrád
English screenplay and subtitles (from Hungarian) for the winner of First Prize at Cannes in May, 2010, in the category "Un certain regard": Agnes Kocsis' film "Adrienn Pál".
Appearing 2011: my translation of András Kepes' bestselling book Matt a férfiaknak (English title: Checkmate to Men), the story of Judit Polgár.
Zsófia Bán "The Two Fridas", World Literature Today, September-October 2009, pp. 30-35
Most recent published book translation on Amazon; same reviewed in the New York Times Book Review and by István Deák in The New Republic.
György Konrád's A Guest in My Own Country in my translation (from Hungarian) was the winner of the 2007 National Jewish Book Award in the category "Biography, Autobiography, and Memoir."
Hungarian director Ágnes Kocsis' film "Fresh Air" was selected for the Semaine de la Critique at Cannes in 2006. My translation was used for the screenplay and subtitles.
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Keywords: film, screenplay, screenplay translation, forgatókönyv, forgatókönyvek fordítása angolra, subtitles, feliratozás, literature, literary translation, reader's report, publishing, magyar irodalom, magyar vers angolul, Budapest, angol anyanyelvű, French, German, Italian, Hungarian, Russian, Medieval Latin, Hungarian-English, Hu-En, Français-anglais, italiano-inglese, Deutsch-Englisch, ESL, Drehbuch, libretto, bicycles, bicycle technology, Judit Polgár, Judit Polgar, matt a férfiaknak, Checkmate to Men, András Kepes
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