突然觉得应该在这边也宣传一下
如果有谁拿出在dl上买女王蜂の甘美なる交合 第六章 皇樹編的证据的话
我可以免费提供我翻译的中文台本(听译+机翻+润色)
同样我还翻译了fd册子上的皇树线结局和辉夜篇的ss特典,有兴趣可以来了解
附上第一轨的翻译
(以及如果你很讨厌这个作品却不小心看到了这条微博的话,不必特意来向我证明什么)
如果有谁拿出在dl上买女王蜂の甘美なる交合 第六章 皇樹編的证据的话
我可以免费提供我翻译的中文台本(听译+机翻+润色)
同样我还翻译了fd册子上的皇树线结局和辉夜篇的ss特典,有兴趣可以来了解
附上第一轨的翻译
(以及如果你很讨厌这个作品却不小心看到了这条微博的话,不必特意来向我证明什么)
读过图书《国宝》,我的评分:★★★★★ 一代名伶的一生,写得跟真的一样。史诗般的作品。歌舞伎和人物的美。好几处都要把人看哭了。翻译也是厉害得不行,这是我目前读过最好的日本译作。“所以看官,请主动与他搭个话。所以看官,请把灯光照在他身上。所以看官,请为他鼓一鼓掌。”泪满。(来… https://t.cn/A6I1qkAC
久违的凌晨惊醒,应该就是为了让我看到呼啸山庄结尾的原文。要我说出喜欢的小说作者,除了莎士比亚应该没有第二个外国人。可能因为我是个俗人,没有能力和耐心看完整本外文书,却又幼稚且执拗地推翻文学作品翻译后存在美感的可能性。呼啸山庄讲了什么早就已经不记得,只是今年看到一篇写张爱玲的评论里,讲她的性子像是欧石楠,才猛然回忆起这本书。主人公最后独身葬在石楠花原,绝望,绝望而有尊严。小时候看到这里,想着下一页会不会就说这只是她的一个梦,是蝴蝶变成了她,而她衍化出了天地。
附上原文,不知道若干年后翻到是不是还会这样触动。
My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirk. When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.
I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: on middle one grey, and half buried in the heath; Edgar Linton’s only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff’s still bare.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
附上原文,不知道若干年后翻到是不是还会这样触动。
My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirk. When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.
I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: on middle one grey, and half buried in the heath; Edgar Linton’s only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff’s still bare.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
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