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Translation, Interpreting, Editing/proofreading, Training
English to Serbian: Breakfast At Tiffany's by Truman Capote
Source text - English I’d been living in the house about a week when I noticed that the mailbox belonging to Apt.2 had a name-slot fitted with a curious card. Printed rather Cartier- formal, it read: Miss Holiday Golightly ; and, underneath, in the corner, Travelling. It nagged me like a tune: Miss Holiday Golightly , Travelling.
One night, it was long past twelve, I woke up at the sound of Mr. Yunioshi calling down the stairs. Since he lived on the top floor, his voice fell trough the whole house, exasperated and stern. “ Miss Golightly! I must protest.”
The voice that came back, welling up from the bottom of the stairs, was silly-young and self-amused.
“Oh, darling, I am sorry. I lost goddamn key.”
“ You cannot go on ringing my bell. You must please, please, have yourself a key made.”
“ But I lost them all.”
“ I work, I have to sleep,” Mr Yunioshi shouted. “ But always you are ringing my bell...”
“ Oh, don’t be angry, you dear little man: I won’t do it again. And if you promise not to be angry” – her voice was coming nearer, she was climbing the stairs – “ I might let you take those pictures we mentioned.”
By now I’d left my bed and opened the door an inch. I could hear Mr Yunioshi’s silence: hear, because it was accomplished by an audible change of breath.
“ When? he said.
“ The girl laughed. “ Some time,” she answered, slurring the word.
“ Any time,” he said and closed the door.
I went into the hall and leaned over the banister, just enough to see without being seen. She was still on the stairs, now she reached the landing, and the ragbag colours of her boy’s hair, tawny streaks, strands of albino- blond and yellow, caught the hall light. It was warm evening, nearly summer, and she wore a slim cool black dress, black sandals, a pearl choker. For all her chic thinness, she had an almost breakfast-cereal air of health, a soup and lemon cleanness, a rough pink darkening in the cheeks. Her mount was large, her nose upturned. A pair of dark glasses blotted out her eyes. It was a face beyond childhood, yet this side of belonging to a woman. I thought her anywhere between sixteen and thirty; as it turned out, she was shy two months of her nineteenth birthday.
Translation - Serbian Živeo sam u toj kući oko nedelju dana kada sam primetio da poštansko sanduče koje pripada stanu 2, ima u žlebu za ime pričvršćenu neobičnu karticu. Odštampano, prilično Kartije -formalnim stilom, pisalo je: Gospođica Holidej Golajtli; i ispod, u uglu, Putuje. Odzvanjalo mi je u ušima kao refren: Gospođica Holidej Golajtli, Putuje.
Jedne noći, već je davno bilo prošlo dvanaest, probudio me je glas gospodina Juniošia, koji je vikao niz stepenište. Pošto je živeo u potkrovlju, njegov glas se razlegao kroz celu kuću, razdražen i strog. “ Gospođice Golajtli! Moram da protestvujem!”
Glas koji je odgovorio, izvirao je sa dna stepeništa, bio je luckasto mlad i uveseljavajući. “ O, dragi, zaista mi je žao. Izgubila sam prokleti ključ.”
“ Ne možete neprestano zvoniti na moje zvono. Morate, molim vas, molim vas, napraviti sebi ključ.”
“ Ali sve ih izgubim.”
“ Ja radim, ja moram da spavam,” vikao je gospodin Junioši. “ A vi uvek zvonite na moje zvono ....”
“ O, nemojte se ljutiti, vi dragi mali čoveče: Neću to uraditi ponovo. A ako obećate da se nećete ljutiti” - glas je postajao sve bliži, penjala se stepenicama - “ Možda vam dozvolim da napravite te fotografije koje smo pominjali.”
Ustao sam iz kreveta i otvorio vrata samo jedan santimetar. Mogao sam da čujem da gospodin Junioši ćuti: čujem, jer je tišinu pratilo zvučno disanje.
“ Kada? “ rekao je.
Devojka se nasmejala. ”Jednom,” odgovorila je, gutajući reč.
“ U bilo koje vreme,” rekao je, i zatvorio vrata.
Izašao sam u hodnik i nagnuo se preko gelendera, upravo toliko da vidim a da ne budem viđen. Još uvek je bila na stepeništu, sada je stigla do odmorišta, a njena raznobojna dečačka kosa, sa žuto mrkim prugama, pramenovima albino plave i žute, sijala je pri svetlosti sijalice. Bilo je toplo veče, skoro leto, nosila je tanku ležernu crnu haljinu, crne sandale, i kratku bisernu ogrlicu. I pored njene mršavosti koja je bila veoma šik, imala je mladalački zdrav izgled nekoga ko doručkuje samo žitnu kašu, svežinu sapuna i limuna, prirodno tamno rumenilo na obrazima. Usta su joj bila velika, nos povijen naviše. Tamne naočari su joj zaklanjale oči. Bilo je to lice koje nije pripadalo detetu, već odrasloj ženi. Mislio sam da može imati bilo koje godine između šesnaest i trideset; a kako se pokazalo kasnije, za dva meseca je punila devetnaest.
English to Serbian (Faculty of Philology, Belgrade) Serbian to English (Faculty of Philology, Belgrade)
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Microsoft Word
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CV available upon request
Bio
I have graduated the English language and Literature from the University of Belgrade. I have been working for 16 years as an interpreter and translator in the factory of construction machinery. In 1999 I left the factory. I also work as an Official Court Interpreter performing translation of the personal papers for the people who apply for different kind of visas. I have also performed certified translation for the people engaged in business.
- Translation of the Operation and Maintenance Manuals as well as Spare Parts Catalogues for the earth-moving machinery,
- Translation of Contracts(Sales Contracts, Contacts on Servicing, Consignment Stock Contracts), quotations, elaboration of tenders, business correspondence.
- Medicine (general)
- Economy
- Business (general)
- Law
- Art
- Culinary
- Cosmetics
- Ecology
- All kinds of personal papers
- Literature
Keywords: contracts, mechanical engineering, business correspondence, business general, personal papers of all kinds, birth certificates, degrees and diplomas, etc.Medicine(general), Economy, Health Care. See more.contracts, mechanical engineering, business correspondence, business general, personal papers of all kinds, birth certificates, degrees and diplomas,etc.Medicine(general), Economy, Health Care, Literature. See less.
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