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French to English: Lettre à ma fille qui veut porter le voile
Source text - French “Je veux porter le voile … c’est important, maman, c’est ma religion, je suis musulmane et je suis fière de l’être. C’est mon identité, je le sens tout au fond de moi, je ne veux plus me cacher.
—Tais-toi, Nawel! Tu dis n’importe quoi!
—Non, ce n’est pas n’importe quoi! Je ne veux plus faire semblant, je ne veux plus faire comme toi, jouer les Françaises. Moi, je viens d’ailleurs, tu comprends! Et puis, j’en ai marre de toutes ces putes!” (8-9)
Translation - English “I want to wear the headscarf ... It’s important, mama, it’s my religion, I am Muslim and I am proud to be. It’s my identity, I feel it deep in my core, I don’t want to hide myself anymore.”
“Shut up, Nawel! You’re speaking nonsense!”
“No, it’s not nonsense! I don’t want to pretend anymore, I don’t want to pretend like you do, play the French part. Me, I come from elsewhere, you know! And I’ve had enough of all these whores!” (8-9)
French to English: A version of a Vietnamese legend from "La princesse et le pêcheur" by Minh Tran Huy
Source text - French
Il était une fois un puissant seigneur ayant une fille unique s'appellant My Nuong, elle était très belle. Comme toutes les autres filles de son rang, elle était toujours cloîtrée dans son palais. Elle consacrait tout son temps à la peinture, la broderie et à la poésie. Elle se mettait souvent à la fenêtre pour admirer le paysage et regarder l'eau du fleuve qui coulait jusqu'en contrebas. Un beau jour, elle fut séduite par un chant mélodieux et mélancolique qui montait du fleuve. C'est la voix d'un pêcheur qui tirait son filet. Elle commençait à prendre l'habitude de l'écouter. Cette voix était si envoûtante qu'elle commençait à bercer son âme jusque-là insensible. C'était comme un rendez-vous qu'elle avait avec ce pêcheur.
Un beau matin, cette voix se tut. Ce silence la rendit malade. Elle fut complètement alitée et aucun médecin n'arriva à déterminer les causes de sa maladie. Puis, un jour, la voix s'éleva de nouveau. Ce chant était si mélodieux que My Nuong reprit ses forces et retrouva sa beauté. Elle redevint heureuse à la grande joie de son père. Celui-ci commença à découvrir la cause de son mal. Elle fut replongée dans la léthargie désespérée chaque fois que cette voix se tut. Son père finit par rechercher ce pêcheur qu'on amena auprès de sa fille malade. Ce pauvre garçon était tellement laid que cela effraya My Nuong à sa première vue. De ce jour, le charme de la voix dont l'absence la rendait malade disparut. Elle commença à oublier cette habitude et reprit une vie normale.
Par contre, la vie fut bouleversée complètement pour ce pauvre pêcheur,Truong Chi. Celui-ci menait jusque-là une vie paisible et n'avait aucun souci autre que la procuration journalière de la nourriture. Il tomba amoureux de la grâcieuse My Nuong lors de cette rencontre. Il savait que cet amour était sans espoir. Il commença à négliger son travail, tomba malade un beau matin et finit par mourir. Son corps fut enterré au bord du fleuve, à côté d'un arbre.
Un jour, lors d'une crue violente, les berges furent ravagées par le fleuve. Sa tombe fut complètement dévastée. On trouva à cet endroit une boule de jade d'une pureté magnifique. Selon les gens de ce coin, il s'agit bien du corps du pêcheur qui s'était transformé en cette boule. Attiré par la splendeur et la beauté de cette boule lors de son passage dans ce coin, le père de My Nuong réussit à l'acheter à prix d'or. Il fit tailler cette boule en forme de tasse et l'offrit à sa fille lors de son anniversaire. Quand celle-ci y versa du thé, elle vit apparaître au fond de cette tasse l'image de Truong Chi avec sa voix mélodieuse résonant quelque part. Emue et prise de pitié, My Nuong commença à pleurer. Ses larmes tombèrent dans la tasse. Par enchantement, celle-ci se désagrégea et disparut. L'âme du pêcheur fut ainsi libéré de son désespoir grâce à la compassion de My Nuong. Ainsi se termina l'histoire d'un amour impossible.
Version of legend found here: http://www.nguyen-trong.com/histoire/truong_chi_my_nuong.htm
Translation - English There was once, a long time ago, the daughter of a great mandarin. Graced with lovely qualities, she was called My Nuong, which means “beautiful child.” Like all young girls in her position, she lived alone in the gynaeceum, situated in a high tower of the palace. Surrounded by servants, she was only visited by her parents. Her bedroom was furnished sumptuously and her wardrobe of the finest silk, neither of which she cared for. Most of the time, she sat by the window and embroidering or reading books of poetry. Occasionally, she stopped to look at the river that ran below and dreamt of travels and meetings along its golden way.
From time to time, a little fisherman’s boat glided along the calm water. The man, Thuong, was very poor. He sang often. From far away, My Nuong didn’t see his face and could hardly distinguish his movements. But she heard his voice that rose from the river up to her… The voice was beautiful and the lyrics melancholy. It was the only contact the young girl had with the outside world, the world she only knew when she lifted the curtain of her palanquin, each time she got permission to leave the palace, accompanied by the mandarin’s best guards.
Nonetheless, one day the fisherman did not come down the river. My Nuong found herself waiting until evening. For days, she watched out in vain for his return, until she couldn’t sleep or eat. Called in great haste, the doctors were unable to determine the cause of the problem that had taken hold of her, and her parents began to lose hope, when the young girl was suddenly healed: the fisherman, back from a long journey, began to sing again on his boat.
Informed by a servant of the attachment of My Nuong to this song, the mandarin summoned the man and put him in the presence of his daughter. From the first look, she put to rest the dreamy waves the song had aroused in her. Thuong, dirty and dressed in rags, was not at all the Prince Charming she had dreamt of loving. She forgot all about him and recovered her peace of mind.
Years later, the family of the fisherman dug up his remains to transport them to the definitive tomb. They found nothing in the coffin but a strange translucent rock which they fixed to the front of the boat like an ornament. A passing artisan noticed this bizarre rock and bought it. Out of it, he sculpted an exquisitely fine cup.
The mandarin father of My Nuong acquired the object because he had caught wind of a grand prodigy. Each time one poured tea into it, one saw the image of a fisherman on a junk, slowly circling the cup and singing, “While our hearts are on this earth / And cannot meet / Our souls are able, in another life / To find each other, united forever.”
One day in autumn, My Nuong poured a bit of tea in the cup. The image of the fisherman appeared. They looked at each other. The little girl remembered. She cried.
One tear fell in the cup and it melted immediately.
Version translated: "La princesse et le pêcheur" de Minh Tran Huy
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French to English and English (monolingual), copywriting, proofreading, and editing
Specializing in artistic or literary translation and marketing
Trained to teach French and English languages to adults and children at Langue et Nature au Château de la Mazure in Forcé, France
Familiar with subtitling, use of timestamps
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Master of Fine Arts, University of Minnesota, May 2019
Literary Nonfiction Book-length Thesis: "Blurred As It Is"
Courses taught: Intro to Creative Writing, Intermediate Literary Nonfiction, First Year Writing, Contemporary American Literature, Topics--Addiction Literature
Bachelor of Arts, Kalamazoo College, June 2015
Summa cum laude, Major in French, minor in English
Study abroad: Marketing studies at École Supérieure de Commerce in Clermont-Ferrand, France (2013-2014)
Brand analysis of La Vache Qui Rit in French and English
Thesis title: "Libre de tout casser, de tout construire: Les motivations des adolescents français pour apprendre l'anglais et une façon de developper ces motivations"
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