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Sample translations submitted: 1
Russian to English: a passage from a text by Andrei Krivoshapkin General field: Other Detailed field: Anthropology
Source text - Russian В детстве я вырос среди оленей. Мать пасла колхозных оленей. Нас, детей, было трое: старшая сестра, я – средний, и наш младший братишка. Мы часто кочевали. Я допытывался у матери: почему так часто кочуем? «Это нужно оленям. Их надо пасти по свежим горным лугам и незатоптанным ягельникам. Пока олени здоровы, упитаны, и нам тепло и сытно», – откликалась мать. Я особо не вникал в слова матери – просто верил им.
Откочевываем на новую стоянку. Каждый раз в душе рождаются новые светлые впечатления: новые зеленые поляны, густые тальники, вокруг – невысокие сопки, а за ними в некотором отдалении виднеется цепь горных кряжей. Мать быстро снимает вьюки и седла оленей. Не сразу берётся за установку илуму (конусообразное жилище эвенов). Жерди, составляющие остов илуму, эвены называют ирука. При любых кочевках, летом и зимой, ирука брали с собой – длинные, гладкие от долгого использования, будто полированные, жерди. Когда они под рукой, жилище сооружается быстро и нет надобности рубить новые деревца. Кроме того, на пути кочевий не всегда найдешь нужные тонкие деревья, годные под ирука. Все просто и мудро: и людям удобно, и лес сберегается.
Помню, как будто это было вчера. Мать внимательно подбирает место под костер. Все ее заботит: не наступит ли ненароком олень копытцем на горящие угли, не перекинутся ли искры от костра в случае ветра на одежду или покрывало илуму, и, самое главное, не случится ли пожар от костра. Все умела мать предусмотреть заблаговременно.
Мы, дети, не были пассивными наблюдателями, но между своими делами следили за всеми действиями матери. Всем нутром воспринимали материнские уроки и запоминали их на всю жизнь, передавая потом своим детям. У нас свои неписаные обязанности: я собираю хворост для растопки, сестра сходит за водой. Так бывало всегда. Мать даже не напоминала нам ни о чем.
Наконец, подходящее место для костра выбрано. Мать готовит очаг: приносит с речного берега камни и обкладывает ими место костра. Это для того, чтобы пламя не перекинулось на траву или ягель. Простая, но верная мера противопожарной безопасности в тайге.
После долгожданного чаепития помогаем матери ставить илуму-чум. Покрывалом могла служить легкая замшевая кожа, но чаще всего – палаточный материал. Мать между делом приговаривает: «Смотрите, покрепче завязывайте узелки, а то налетит ветер – как бы не унес покрывало». Затем снаружи подкрепляли чум свободными жердями.
То время теперь не вернуть, но общение с матерью для меня как бальзам на душу. Разве такое забудешь?
Translation - English I spent my childhood around reindeer. My mother was a reindeer herder of a collective farm. There were three children in the family: my older sister, me – the second child, and our little brother. We travelled often. I would ask my mother: why do we move so often? She would respond: “The reindeer need it. We have to provide them with fresh mountain pastures and untrampled reindeer moss. As long as the reindeer are healthy and well-fed, we can also stay warm and content.” I didn’t really understand what my mother meant, but believed her nonetheless.
Every time we moved to different camping grounds, we would get new and bright experiences: new green meadows, thick osier beds, low hills all around, and beyond them, at a distance, a range of mountains. Mother would quickly undo the pack loads and unsaddle the reindeer. After a while she’d begin assembling the ilumu (a conic-shaped dwelling of the Evens). The beams that make up the framework of the ilumu are called iruka in the Even language. During any kind of travelling, in summer and in winter, the Evens take the irukas with them. The beams are long and smooth from a lot of use and look as if they were polished. When you have the irukas at hand the dwelling assemblage goes by fast and there is no need to cut down new trees. In addition, it is not always easy to find the right thin trees for the irukas while travelling. The whole process is simple and wise: the people are comfortable and the forest remains untouched.
I remember as if it was yesterday. Mother carefully chose a place for the fire. She was worried that a reindeer might accidentally step on the burning coals, that the wind might blow sparks from the fire onto clothes or the ilumu cover, and most importantly, that the campfire might cause a fire in the forest. Our mother always made sure to think of everything in advance.
As children we weren’t just passive observers, but while busy with our own duties we’d also watch and learn from our mother’s actions. We took to heart our mother’s lessons and remembered them for the rest of our lives. Later we passed them on to our own children. Each of us had our own tacit duties to perform: I gathered firewood, and my sister got water. This is how it always was. Our mother didn’t even have to remind us of anything.
Finally, she’d choose a place for the fire. Mother would set up a hearth: bring stones from the river and put them around the fireplace. She did it so that the flame wouldn’t spread to the grass or reindeer moss. It was a simple but sure measure against forest fires in taiga.
After having our long-awaited tea we helped mother to assemble the ilumu tent. A light suede could serve as a cover, but usually we just used tent material. In passing mother would say: “Make sure to tighten the knots well, otherwise the wind will come and take away our cover.” Then we would reinforce the tent with extra beams outside.
That time is long gone, but my conversations with mother are like music to my ears. How could anyone forget that?
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Bachelor's degree - Lomonosov Moscow State University
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Years of experience: 23. Registered at ProZ.com: Jul 2014.
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