Literary translation

Literary translation is justly considered to be one of the most complicated types of translation. It is not only about the specific vocabulary, for example, archaisms, obsolete words or word play. In order to perform a translation of a novel, a translator shall be a writer himself, and a poet for translation of poems. In this case, the translator acts as a co-author of the text. It is necessary for him not just to convey the meaning of the words, but their emotional tint as well, while not losing the author’s thought. However, sometimes translated works are considered to be even better than the originals.

The work on translation of literary texts is first of all the creativity and highest level of skills of the translator, who shall feel the culture, mood and style of both author and his work. Both translators with over 20 years’ working experience and young talents work at our Center, but in any case the work on the translation is completed with check by a literary edtor. We offer you to perform translation of large and small prose forms, poetry and songs. For the prose, we are ready to offer you a small test translation performed by several translators, out of which you can choose what you like most.

Sample of translation of sonnet 116 by W. Shakespeare:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Немає перешкоди двом серцям
У їх єднанні. Не назвеш коханням
Те, що зруйнують прикрощі життя,
Зігнуть незгоди підлого втручання.
Любов — маяк і зірка провідна,
Твердиня, що її не знищать шквали,
Заблудлим душам вкаже шлях вона,
Однак її ми досі не пізнали.
Не має над любов’ю влади час,
Хоча серпом він цвіт з лиця стинає,
Пливуть роки рікою поміж нас,
Усе мине, любов лиш не минає.
Якщо ж неправду щойно вам сказав,
Я не поет й ніколи не кохав.