tlhIngan-Hol Archive: Wed Sep 17 11:14:46 1997
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RHOTS
- From: "Duncan Barrett" <[email protected]>
- Subject: RHOTS
- Date: Wed, 17 Sep 1997 19:16:23 +0100
I was ill off school today and didn't want my brain to turn to gagh, so I
decided to try translating my first speech from The Royal Hunt of The Sun to
keep it occupied (we're doing the play at school and it struck me as
slightly Klingon-ish - Honour, Conquest, etc!). What follows is, therefore,
the result of me sitting in bed sniffling, with TKD in one hand, a pen and
paper in the other and my lines jumbling around in my head. Possibly this
is the worst attempt at translation any of you have ever read (yes - I know
it's not recommended for beginners) but it did serve its purpose and I
remain (relatively) sane.
English translation is included (obviously, the lines don't match exactly).
peQaq(qang?). ma'tIn 'oH pongwIj. Spey'In SuvwI'na' jIH. puH, Huch lalDan
je QaHpu' veSwIj. lo'laHqu' jIH! tugh jIHegh, 'ej pe'ruDaq mumol, puH
wIQIH. pIgh ngaS lutwIj - pIgh Huch je. lut mIp law' vereng (ie.
Ferenginar) mip pus. cha'maH loS 'uy' loD chargh wa'vatlh javmaH Soch loD!
"chay," botlhob - vIja'. 'ej latlh lutmey vIja'. lutmey jabe' loDpu'.
Sujach 'ej jInep SuQub. chaq jInep - pe'ruDaq loDpu' QeH u'ropDaq loDpu'
QeH. 'ach HIHar - vISovpu' law' Hoch luSov, 'ej vIvuvpu'qu'. tulwIj ghaH,
toDwI'-nagh beQwIj. 'anSisHo (how do I get a "Fr") pItlha'ro! (I don't
even know where to begin with the next sentence!)
English (punctuation may differ from original script):
Save you all. My name is Martin. I'm a soldier of Spain, and that's it.
Most of my life I've spent fighting, for land, treasure and the cross. I'm
worth millions! Soon I'll be dead, and they'll bury me out here in Peru,
the land I helped ruin as a boy. THis story is about ruin, ruin and gold.
More gold than any of you will ever see, even if you work in a counting
house. I'm going to tell you how 167 men conquered an empire of 24
million...And then things that no-one has ever told - things to make you
groan and cry out I'm lying. And perhaps I am. The air in Peru is cold and
sour, like in a vault, and wits turn easier here even than in Europe. But
grant me this: I saw him closer than anyone, and had cause only to love him.
He was my altar, my bright image of salvation. Fransisco Pizarro! Time was
when I'd have died for him, or for any worship.
Anyway, sorry for wasting your time and Qapla'
Duncan
ps. Qov...What happened to your (pre-BG) challenges? (They kept people like
me from disturbing you all with botched translations!) Obviously if you're
too busy that's understandable, but could you appoint a succesor as BC
(Beginner's Challenger)?
pps. Sometimes if I couldn't see how to say something I sort made up new
grammar...sorry!