So, I blame @Iain Aschendale and @Tenderiser for this. We were talking in another thread about a bad translation and this is what came of it. Take a paragraph or less of one of your works. Put it in Google Translate and pick a random language. Then translate it back to English, also in Google Translate. Post it here with what language you used. Don't post the original. Laugh a lot. Here's mine: (I used Russian) "Liam Romain was three desperately boring days in a four-day patrol from the Stormwind Citadel, when his life began. He was almost dozing on the back of his infernal hike, a huge, beast-like beast, leisurely walking through the mud, when hilly hills, seen by occasional rocks and trees, slowly slid by. When the shadowy landscape appeared before his hellish curtain and lowered the traces of dirt at a speed that Liam could not imagine, Garmr, his hellish hard, jumped forward after the ghost with a ferocious growl. Liam made an insane seizure of the reins, so as not to fall."
I'll play (again), through Turkish: ETA: It's "she" and "her" through the whole original piece. Guess Turkish women aren't manly enough for rock climbing....
Lithuanian: At the end of Tory Street, docks were a trail of barrels, bags and barriers. It was the provision of the boat for another trip, but it seemed too much for the North Wave. Her amazing curve, gracefully measured from the deep tin to the big burning side, blows up and ends with what Victor knew, simply called a boat, but, as she knew, it was Carlo's mansion at sea. There was nothing like water in the water. Lady Gorgeous and abundant. Every generation outside of the Great House outside the city, Petla domain. But Carly's tree and sail estate was free to see the world where Mrs. Petla was associated with the earth. The ship was both a car and a property. Victoria thought she was beautiful and free. ------------------------------------------------------- Its seems that in Lithuanian, my writing presents an extreme fire/explosives hazard.
Oh well, this seems like fun. From an old piece, English to Scots Gaelic and back again: It was the next two weeks of collision. Kalibrand never left his workshop, and I've never been in. The air on our reception had changed, in a way that I could not put my finger on it. It seemed like it was difficult, and when I was breathing it was how my lungs were trying to refuse it. Unstable sounds flowing, like furniture moving around, knocking on a wooden board, shaking grinding words; but they were always so quick that you could not regret that they were true.
You'd think that, wouldn't you? I don't know if the process improved it, necessarily, but it's for damned sure less bland now. Oh, and this one phrase really profited by the threatment: "shaking grinding words". I love it
Speaking of absurd, I had to try one with my most recent work, this time into Basque. Some, ah... some of the finer nuances didn't make it. Estebel will be able to enjoy the weight of his reward manifested by the neck and shoulders. His mouth dried and swept in his gloves. He could not break his flu. He thought he did not destroy pants, he opened the southern wall for the first time and talked to him in Paris.
Using Latin. He took a boy out of his nostrils, and laboring at the pump for a short time to buy a Morley laoreet to the hope of the crank would perish, and the hope of Alice, the cock was already at the very beginning. They are by far the largest of the Triduum, by sailing the boats, the villages, as yet, not yet by their incessant. And the batteries when the radio was dead, but still with a lot of fire. Arced one of them, for him, and he went up into the sky. When he was in the other, the cock and bounce on, fastening their eyes on that can be found on the horizon for help, Morley, kept in custody, the focus on a general receptacle of the handle, and fixed in, in the a scab, of a shining spot, and began, O Death, is your sting? Into our own hands, the pain of starting to creep and His way, And the sweat dripping, out of the in front of his eyes stinging. He began to burn with this, he fell of his ship and the weapons of sex should not be able to go further to ask to be moved. But as long as this is not the less certain that if you ever be condemned, not with their aid he was doing it if he could.
From Czech: Well, here I hope it gives me more drugs. But it's all right, you see? The doctor will give me a miraculous cure that all the fluid, weeds and wills in the twelve-cell cell that is my world have not been able to repair. That's how it works. Twelve years and three hundred thousand dollars will buy you the trust of foreigners and give people the powders that make them happy.
Notice how it's "a boy" as opposed to "the boy." Makes it seem like there are many boys in his nostrils.
Since I write in Swedish I thought to just put it through the translator once... His possessions took place in a rucksack. A big backpack that had been hanging with him for many years and through countless miles to the far outskirts. In the worst case it was untrue, but rarely caused a concern. Now it felt heavy. He tied it around the waist and the ribbon tapped against the wound. It was not far to town. He would get there, and well there he could find help. ...but then I decided to switch it back and forth again. Because I want to be like the cool kids His possessions took place in a rucksack. A big backpack that had hung with him for many years and through countless miles to the outermost regions. At worst it was unclear, but rarely caused an anxiety. Now it felt heavy. He tied it around his waist and the band dropped against the wound. It was not far to town. He would come there, and well there he could find help.
Sounds like he should either a) stay out of that rucksack because of the demons in it, or b) tuck a priest into one of the pockets for the next time he climbs in....
I love how it seems to give the backpack a personality. Like some big friendly Samsonite version of Baymax.
But most of the time is was untrue and no cause for concern, so I'm guessing he'll be alright! Yeah, it really makes the long hikes feel less lonely, doesn't it? I tried another text. It wasn't anything special in the English version, but in the translate back to Swedish it more or less stated that he'd probably have sex with a truck. Speaking of getting lonely...
@Iain Aschendale is that photo from your collection? That's such a USMC thing to do lol. Is he really all the way in the rucksack? <--- ex-US Army
Okay, so I might be bored, but I felt like I had to share one more. It got a bit out of hands. Living in the Daisies did not just have to be a mother or father of two and a half children, that you cut the hedge at the right height or that your house was painted in exactly the right shade of cappuccino, caffè latte or egg calf (as that year turned out to go home with your neighbors) - you also needed a silky look that did not miss the smallest leaves on the neighbor's blanket and heard enough to hear what's happening in the neighboring house. In the dawn, it was not accepted that something was half pastoral, neither the home, the relationship nor the two and a half children. If it turned out that Peter had left his last work trip in any big city, it was simply time to find a new neighbor to lay his head. Not because they could throw out their rude neighbors from their own house, but in the daisies they knew how to get rid of what was usually called ohyra.
As far as I know, he's really all the way in the ruck. It came via Terminal Lance, which, if you're former military, you really need to be reading. (I've got no affiliation with the site other than rabid fandom.) There was a bit of a kerfluffle over that picture when someone in the Marine's chain of command tried to force Max to snitch on who sent him the picture. Since he's a) out, b) a NYT bestselling author, and c) on meet and greet terms with quite a few VIPs (Sec. Mattis, for one), he told them to lighten up and piss up a rope, or something to that effect.
I translated the first page of Loch Mess into Chinese (simplified) and back: "She turned her head and sat up with a bastard."
