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English to Italian - Standard rate: 0.17 USD per word / 50 USD per hour Italian to English - Standard rate: 0.17 USD per word / 50 USD per hour
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Sample translations submitted: 1
Italian to English: Eva General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - Italian La prima volta la vidi pel Lungarno, in un elegante legnetto, e guidava una bella pariglia di cavalli inglesi; aveva il sorriso negli occhi più che nelle labbra, ed era una cert'aria graziosa ed ardita in tutta la sua persona che vedendola faceva sorridere di piacere. Io ero triste, senza saperne il perché, forse per non avere meglio da fare, e macchinalmente la seguii cogli occhi e col pensiero - e il pensiero corse lontano verso tutte le ridenti follie del cuore. Un'altra volta la incontrai alle Cascine, in uno di quei viali che nessuno frequenta. Quel mattino il mio cuore faceva festa - domeniche gioconde dei venticinque anni che non tornano più! - Il sole splendeva, ed il sorriso brillava negli occhi di Vittorina - larva di un di quei giorni in cui si prodiga tanta parte di cuore come se non dovessero tramontare giammai - fantasma di un'ora felice che si dimentica prima ancora che sia trascorsa, - nello stesso modo che ella avrà dimenticato persino il mio nome, o lo rammenterà come io adesso mi rammento del suo, a proposito di qualche cosa che allora ci passò sotto gli occhi senza che ce ne avvedessimo. Il viale era deserto, gli uccelli cinguettavano fra gli alberi, e i rami sussurravano lieve lieve, intrecciando mollemente le loro ombre in bizzarri disegni sulla ghiaia del viale. Noi non si parlava certamente dell'ultimo fascicolo dell'Antologia. Vittorina era allegra, cantava, rideva e il riso la faceva bella. Io guardavo ed ascoltavo. Quando il nostro fiacre passò accanto ad un bellissimo legno, che stava fermo in mezzo al viale, vidi, attraverso il cristallo scintillante, una testolina bionda, come una rosea visione, incorniciata dall'imbottitura di seta della carrozza. Ella ci volse uno sguardo, un solo sguardo limpido come l'azzurro dei suoi occhi, ma disattento, anzi noncurante, uno di quegli sguardi che vi affissano in volto senza vedervi, e tornò a chinare gli occhi sul libro.
Vittorina chinò il capo e ammutolì, come se quella bionda e leggiadra visione fosse sempre lì, fra di noi, seduta sui cuscini della nostra carrozza.
Translation - English The first time I saw her was on the Lungarno, the avenue which borders the Arno river. She was in an elegant carriage, driving a pair of pretty English horses. Her eyes smiled more merrily than her lips; she had a certain grace and daring in her being that made all who saw her likewise smile with pleasure. I alone was sad, without knowing why. Mechanically I followed her with my eyes and my imagination – laughing at the madness in my heart.
The second time I saw her was on one of those deserted side roads near the racetrack at the Cascine park. That Sunday morning my heart was rejoicing – as every heart does when one is twenty-five years old. The sun was shining, and a smile shone also in the eyes of my companion Vittorina. The heart lavishes so many days like this on youth, that one thinks they will never end. They are ghosts of a happy hour which is forgotten before it has passed, in the same way that Vittorina has probably forgotten even my name, or perhaps remembers it in the same way I remember hers, as something which passed before us without our realizing it.
The avenue was deserted, the birds chirped softly in the trees, and the branches whispered lightly, their shadows intertwining in strange designs on the gravel of the road. In hushed voices, we talked of everything and of nothing.
Vittorina was happy: she laughed and sang, and her laughter and her singing made her beautiful. I watched and listened to her with rapt attention.
At a certain point, our horse-and-buggy drew alongside a handsome carriage which was stopped in the middle of the avenue. Through the sparkling crystal, I saw a little blonde head, framed by the silk padding of the carriage. The woman glanced in our direction, a single limpid look amidst the cerulean blue of her eyes. But her gaze was distracted: one of those looks that fix themselves upon you without really seeing you. Then she turned her eyes to her book.
Vittorina bowed her head and was silent, as if that blonde and airy vision had come to sit between us, on the cushions of our carriage.
Tr. Darby Leicht
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PhD - Yale University
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Years of experience: 27. Registered at ProZ.com: Jul 2013.
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