A most már hagyományos Szakmák napján újra eljött hozzánk Robin Edina, az ELTE BTK Fordító- és Tolmácsképző Intézetének oktatója. Érdekes előadása végén idén is meghirdetett egy fordítóversenyt. Rick Riordan ismert író: a Percy Jackson sorozat iskolánkban is közkedvelt. Most egy újabb sorozatából kell az alábbi részletet lefordítani – természetesen olyan könyvből, ami még nem jelent meg magyarul.
Reméljük, sokan állnak neki a nem éppen hétköznapi szöveg fordításának. Jó munkát, kellemes fejtörést kívánunk! (Nyeremények várhatóak )
Hoodlums punch my face
I would smite them if I could
MY NAME IS APOLLO. I used to be a god.
In my four thousand six hundred and twelve years, I have done many things. I inflicted a plague on the Greeks who besieged Troy. I blessed Babe Ruth with three home runs in game four of the 1926 World Series. I visited my wrath upon Britney Spears at the 2007 MTV Video Music Awards.
But in all my immortal life, I never before crash-landed in a Dumpster.
I’m not even sure how it happened.
I simply woke up falling. Skyscrapers spiraled in and out of view. Flames streamed off my body. I tried to fly. I tried to change into a cloud or teleport across the world or do a hundred other things that should have been easy for me, but I just kept falling. I plunged into a narrow canyon between two buildings and BAM!
Is anything sadder than the sound of a god hitting a pile of garbage bags?
I lay groaning and aching in the open Dumpster. My nostrils burned with the stench of rancid bologna and used diapers. My ribs felt broken, though that shouldn’t have been possible.
My mind stewed in confusion, but one memory floated to the surface—the voice of my father, Zeus: YOUR FAULT. YOUR PUNISHMENT.
I realized what had happened to me. And I sobbed in despair.
Even for a god of poetry such as myself, it is difficult to describe how I felt. How could you—a mere mortal—possibly understand? Imagine being stripped of your clothes, then blasted with a fire hose in front of a laughing crowd. Imagine the ice-cold water filling your mouth and lungs, the pressure bruising your skin, turning your joints to putty. Imagine feeling helpless, ashamed, completely vulnerable—publicly and brutally stripped of everything that makes you you. My humiliation was worse than that.
YOUR FAULT, Zeus’s voice rang in my head.
“No!” I cried miserably. “No, it wasn’t! Please!”
Nobody answered. On either side of me, rusty fire escapes zigzagged up brick walls. Above, the winter sky was gray and unforgiving.
I tried to remember the details of my sentencing. Had my father told me how long this punishment would last? What was I supposed to do to regain his favor?
My memory was too fuzzy. I could barely recall what Zeus looked like, much less why he’d decided to toss me to earth. There’d been a war with the giants, I thought. The gods had been caught off guard, embarrassed, almost defeated.
The only thing I knew for certain: my punishment was unfair. Zeus needed someone to blame, so of course he’d picked the handsomest, most talented, most popular god in the pantheon: me.
Leadási határidő: 2017. április 26. szerda, jeligével ellátva, mellette egy borítékban szerepeljen neved és jeligéd. Leadható bármelyik angoltanárnál vagy a könyvtárban.