ترجمة قصة ((مذكرات سحاب)) للأديبة زاهية بنت البحر إلى الإنجليزية

منى هلال · 30 / 10 / 2010, 48 : 11 AM

سأبدأ هنا بإذن الله ترجمة حلقات
قصة "مذكرات سحاب" للأديبة المبدعة زاهية بنت البحر
إلى الإنجليزية

الأصل بالعربية موجود على هذا الرابط
http://www.nooreladab.com/vb/showthread.php?t=17430

Sahab’s Diary

1

They say I’m still young. Yes, I am that. Well, I’m only nine, and this is young if you compare it to their ages. They also say that I’m very smart and that I understand everything they say, even if they allude to it. I heard them say once: “be careful what you say in front of Sahab, she is very sharp; she doesn’t miss a thing; she knows the hidden meanings”.0
Yes, they’re right. How I wished I weren’t like that! Their words hurt my feelings and cause me a lot of pain especially when they talk about my divorced mother and her family. This also happens when they want me out of the way and revert to some stupid tricks and excuses which don’t fool me one little bit.0
They sometimes say that I inherited my genes from my mother and her family who are known for their intelligence and intellect. 0
On the other hand, if you ask me about my father and his family, I’d say they are semi-educated. I won’t say they are ignorant. 0
There is one thing they have plenty of though and that is cunning. This leads them to make mistakes that don’t usually work in their favour. They nevertheless always think it’s the right thing to do, especially what my auntie Rabiha says. Her opinion is more important than everyone else’s.0

زاهية بنت البحر · 30 / 10 / 2010, 20 : 01 PM

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صباح مشرق بك ياغالية، اسعدتني والله بهذا الخبرالجميل، سأتابع بإذن الله نشر المذكرات ، جزاك الله الخير ونفع بك الأمة .
محبتي ومروج الياسمين للغالية أستاذة منى هلال
أختك
زاهية بنت البحر

[/frame]

نصيرة تختوخ · 30 / 10 / 2010, 12 : 02 PM

مبادرة طيبة و مجهود يستحق كل التقدير
سعيدة بوجودك بيننا أستاذة منى و بهذه الترجمة الجميلة.

دينا الطويل · 30 / 10 / 2010, 17 : 02 PM

عطاء ومجهود طيب يعكس ذوق عالي في الإختيار.
..مذكرات سحاب تستحق الترجمة...

اختيار موفق

مودتي وخالص تقديري

منى هلال · 30 / 10 / 2010, 33 : 07 PM

اقتباس

عفوا ,,, لايمكنك مشاهده الروابط لانك غير مسجل لدينا [ للتسجيل اضغط هنا ] المشاركة الأصلية كتبت بواسطة زاهية بنت البحر


	[frame="13 90"] صباح مشرق بك ياغالية، اسعدتني والله بهذا الخبرالجميل، سأتابع بإذن الله نشر المذكرات ، جزاك الله الخير ونفع بك الأمة . محبتي ومروج الياسمين للغالية أستاذة منى هلال أختك زاهية بنت البحر [/frame]

حبيبتي الغالية زاهية
أسعد الله أوقاتك وملأ حياتك بالبهجة والسرور
أحاول منذ فترة البدء في هذا العمل لكن كنت دائما أنشغل عنه بألف عمل آخر
لكن الحمد لله وفقني الله للبدء فيه اليوم
أرجو أن تتاح لي فرصة أكبر للمداومة في العمل عليه
وأن أوفيه ما يستحقه

لك خالص مودتي وحبي

منى هلال · 30 / 10 / 2010, 35 : 07 PM

خالص تحياتي لكما أختاي نصيرة ودينا
أشكر لكما هذا المرور الجميل وهذه الكلمات العذبة المشجعة الرائعة
لا حرمني الله منكما

منى هلال · 30 / 10 / 2010, 39 : 07 PM

2

One day, I was watching TV with my sister Soha in the living room. My stepmother was breastfeeding my baby brother Sameh. My sister Hoda was playing with her doll, which her uncle Saeed had given her for her birthday the day before last. Soha and I were watching a TV presenter talking to a little girl who had red satin ribbons in her hair and was wearing a beautiful dress with lots of colours and lovely flowers. I was so entranced by the scene that I thought I could smell the scent of the flowers coming through the screen and into our small living room. Oh, how I wished I had a dress like that! I felt a teardrop about to fall on my cheek which burned by the agony in my heart, but I managed to hold it between my eyelids. I could see from the corner of my eye how my stepmother was looking at me in a very strange way. A moment of silence passed which felt like ages. My stepmother asked me to turn the TV off and go to my room with Soha to help her with her lessons. Her excuse was that I was older than Soha and was ahead of her in the school by one year. I obeyed; catching a falling teardrop in the palm of my hand as I silently got up and walked to my room. I waited for Soha for a long time, but she never came. I heard the sounds coming back from the TV, louder and louder. The girl with the colourful dress was singing a song that made my tears pour hot and fast. I couldn’t hold them back; they flowed unchecked in turbulent sadness and pain. They ran thick and fast and I could taste their saltiness in my mouth; they burned the cracks on my lips and ignited the agony of my soul. It was then that I decided to write my memoirs in my diary the same way my friend Tala did.0