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Sample translations submitted: 1
English to Portuguese: Devil's Gate, by Clive Cussler General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English HUDSON WALLACE STOOD ON THE RAMP just outside the terminal building on a cold, wet night. His leather jacket did little to keep out the chill as a mix of drizzle and fog shrouded the airport and the whole island around it.
Across from him, blue taxi lights glowed in stoic silence, doing little to warm the scene, while above a beam of white light swung through the fog followed moments later by a flash of green as the airport’s beacon spun slowly and repetitively.
Hudson doubted anyone was up there to see it, not with the clouds so thick and low, but God help him if he were. Mountains surrounded the airport on three sides, and the island itself was just a speck on the map in the middle of the dark Atlantic. Even in 1951 finding such a spot was no easy task. And if someone could find Santa Maria though this soup, Hudson guessed he’d hit the peaks long before he saw the runway lights through the rain.
So getting to the island was one thing. Leaving was something else. Weather notwithstanding, Hudson wanted to go, couldn’t wait to get moving, in fact. For reasons he knew too well it had become unsafe to stay. Despite that fact, and despite being the pilot and owner of the Lockheed Constellation parked on the ramp, he didn’t have the final word.
With little to do but watch and wait, Hudson pulled a silver case from his coat pocket. He drew out a Dunhill cigarette and stuck it between his lips. Ignoring the “No Smoking” signs plastered every twenty feet, he cradled a Zippo lighter to his face and lit the Dunhill.
Translation - Portuguese Hudson Wallace erguia-se na pista diante do terminal numa noite fria e húmida. O seu casaco de couro pouco fazia para o proteger do frio enquanto uma mistura de chuvisco e nevoeiro cobria o aeroporto e toda a ilha em redor.
À sua frente, luzes azuis de rolagem reluziam em silêncio estoico, sem conseguir aquecer o cenário, enquanto, por cima, um feixe de luz branca dançava entre o nevoeiro seguido momentos depois por um clarão verde quando o foco do aeroporto girou de forma lenta e repetida.
Hudson duvidou que houvesse alguém lá em cima para o ver, com as nuvens tão densas e baixas como estavam, mas, se estivesse enganado, que Deus ajudasse o pobre coitado. Montanhas rodeavam o aeroporto por três lados e a ilha era apenas um ponto no mapa no meio do escuro Atlântico. Mesmo em 1951, encontrar tal local não era tarefa fácil. E, se alguém conseguisse encontrar Santa Maria com aquelas condições adversas, supôs que embateria contra os picos muito antes de ver as luzes de aterragem entre a chuva.
Chegar à ilha era uma coisa. Partir era algo completamente diferente. Mesmo com aquele tempo, Hudson queria partir. Na verdade, mal conseguia esperar. Por razões que conhecia demasiado bem, ficar tornara-se perigoso. Apesar desse facto e apesar de ser o piloto e proprietário do Lockheed Constellation estacionado na pista, a decisão final não seria sua.
Pouco podia fazer além de observar e esperar. Retirou uma cigarreira de prata de um bolso do casaco. Extraiu do interior um cigarro Dunhill e prendeu-o entre os lábios. Ignorando os sinais de «Proibido Fumar» afixados de cinco em cinco metros, aproximou da cara um isqueiro Zippo e acendeu o cigarro.
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Translation education
Other - FCSH - Universidade Nova de Lisboa
Experience
Years of experience: 20. Registered at ProZ.com: Nov 2012.
Professional native Portuguese translator, working since 2004 mainly (although not exclusively) as a translator of literary fiction for several leading publishing houses. In this period, I have translated over 50 books (full list available upon request) and I have, to this day, never failed a deadline. Will work faster than most. Feel free to try me.
