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traduction d'un texte( vérification de mon travail)
bonjour ,
Je vous envoi mon texte et ma propre traduction. J’ai mis en gras les passages ou je n’arrive pas à traduire
Texte en anglais:
An unfortunate accident?
Sandy Woodrow heard his phone ring and grabbed the receiver : "Woodrow here", and the telephone jammed to his ear.
"Oh, Sandy, it's Mike Mildren. Are you alone by any chance ?"
Shiny, overweight, twenty four year old Mildren, High Commissioner's private secretary, Essex accent, fresh out from England on his first overseas posting - and known to the junior staff, predictably, as Mildren.
Yes, Woodrow conceded, he was alone. Why ?
"Something's come up, I'm afraid, Sandy. I wondered if I might pop down a moment actually."
"Can't it wait till after the meeting ?"
"Well, I don't think it can really - no, it can't," Mildren replied, gathering conviction as he spoke. "It's Tessa Quayle, Sandy."
A different Woodrow now hackles up, nervers extended. Tessa. "What about her ?" he said. His tone deliberately incurious his mind racing in all directions. Oh Tessa. Oh Christ. What have you done now?
"The Nairobi police say she's been killed", Mildren said, as if he said it every day.
"Utter nosense," Woodrow snapped back before he had given himself time to think. "Don't be ridiculous. Where? When?
"At Lake Turkana. The eastern shore. This week end. They're being diplomatic about the details. In her car. An unfortunate accident, according to them," he added apologetically. "I had a sense that that were trying to spare our feelings".
"Whose car? " Woodrow demanded wildly - fighting now, rejecting the whole mad concept - who, how, where and his other thoughts and senses forced down, down, down, and all his secrets memories of her furiously edited out, to be replaced by the baked moonscape of Turkana as he recalled it from a field trip six months ago in the unimpeachable company of the military attaché."Stay wher your are, I'm coming up. And don't talk to anyone else, d'you hear?"
Moving by numbers now, Woodrow replaced the receiver, walked down his desk, picked up his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on, sleeve by sleeve. He would not customarily have put on a jacket to go upstairs. Jackets were not mandatory for Monday meetings, let alone for going to the private office for a chat with chubby Mildren. But the professional in Woodrow was telling him he was facing a long journey. Nevertheless on this way upstairs he managed by a sturdy effort of self-will to revert to his first principles whenever a crisis appeared on his horizon, and assure himself, just as he had assured Mildren, that it was a lot of sheer nonsense.
Ma traduction :
Sandy entendit son téléphone sonné et attrapa le combiné : « Woodrow j’écoute », et coinça le téléphone à son oreille.
Ah Sandy, c’est Mike Mildren, es tu seul par hasard ?
Brillant, des kilos en trop, Mildren âgé de 24 ans, secrétaire privé du Haut Commissaire accent du comté d’Essex, sorti d’Angleterre de sa première affectation à l’étranger, et connu auprès du personnel subalterne, comme on pouvait s’y attendre sous le nom de Mildren.
Oui Woodrow l’autorisa pourquoi ?
Quelque chose est arrivé, j’ai peur, Sandy, je me demande si je fais bien de descendre actuellement
Ca peut attendre après la réunion ?
Et bien, je ne pense pas que ça puisse vraiment, non ça ne peut pas, Mildren répondit, la réunion dont il parlait. C’est Tessa Quayle, Sandy »
A different Woodrow now, hackles up, nerves extended (= je pense que ça veut dire qu’elle est tendue). Tessa. Que lui est-il arrivé ? Le ton de sa voix était délibérément indifférent, son esprit vagabondé dans tous les sens. Oh Tessa. Oh Christ. Qu’est ce que tu vas faire maintenant ?
La police de Nairobi a dit qu’elle s’est faite assassinée, dit Mildren, comme si il le disait tous les jours.
C’est totalement absurde, Woodrow parlait hargneusement avant même qu’il eu le temps de réfléchir. Ne soit pas ridicule. Où ? Quand ?
Au lac Turkana. A l’est de la côte. Ce weekend. Ils ont étaient diplomate sur les détails. Dans sa voiture. Un malencontreux accident, selon eux, il ajouta d’un air penaud. J’ai eu l’impression qu’ils essayés de ménager nos sentiments. Quelle voiture ? Woodrow demanda de façon insensée en l’agressant de nouveau, en rejetant toute cette folie ; qui, comment, où et ces autres pensées et sens diminuées au fur et à mesure, et tous ces souvenirs secret of her furiously edited out, to be remplaced by the baked moonscape of Turkana as he recalled it from un voyage d’étude il y 6 mois dans l’irréprochable compagnie of the military attaché. Reste ou tu es je monte et ne parle a personne d’autre t’entend ?
Moving by numbers now, Woodrow replaça le combiné, sorti de son bureau, pris sa veste au dos de sa chaise et l’enfila manche par manche. He would not customarily have put on a jacket to go upstairs. Les vestes ne sont pas obligatoires pour les réunions du lundi, let alone pour aller au bureau privé pour discuter avec le rondouillet Mildren.
But the professional in Woodrow was telling him he was facing a long journey. Nevertheless on this way upstairs he managed by a sturdy effort of self-will to revert to his first principles whenever a crisis appeared on his horizon, and assure himself, just as he had assured Mildren, that it was a lot of sheer nonsense.
Merci d'avance  |