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David Mossop PhD
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Sofia, Sofiya-Grad, Bulgaria
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What David Mossop PhD is working on
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Aug 14, 2020 (posted via ProZ.com):  I've just completed the Bulgarian-English translation of a book on the ascent of Everest. ...more, + 1 other entry »
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Bulgarian to English: The Trader 1843
General field: Art/Literary
Detailed field: History
Source text - Bulgarian
ТЪРГОВЕЦЪТ
1843 г.

Търговецът спря на прага на хана в края на селото. Широкият двор беше ограден с висока кирпичена стена, покрита с турски керемиди, та дъждове като днешния да не размекнат и отмият тухлите от непечена глина. Така се строеше по тия земи, пък и по целия Балкански полуостров, където бе обикалял да купува и продава стоката си. Плет, измазан с глина – и ето ти стена. Глина, оформена с дървено калъпче и изсушена на слънце – и ето ти тухла.
Неговата къща не беше такава. Вдигнал я бе на два ката с хубав здрав гредоред, а дъските на стените бяха дебели и добре припаснати. Това правеше къщата здрава и много топла, когато засвирят студените зимни ветрове.
Но до зимата и снеговете имаше още време. Септември едва беше започнал и Грую бе поел от селото си насред българските земи към селата на запад, от които всяка есен изкупуваше конопени изделия. Вечер се прибираше да пренощува в хана на село Власотинце, ханджията от години го знаеше и винаги имаше стая за него.
Грую сне дебелия ямурлук , натежал от просмукалия го есенен дъждец, и силно го изтръска, преди да влезе. Вече се бе мръкнало и най-после се беше прибрал от обиколката по калните междуселски пътища. Този противен влажен ден беше всъщност много добър. Мнооого добър! Спазари цели двайсет и два товара ушити конопени чували, три товара тънко изпреден канап за шиене и дванайсет товара хубави конопени въжета от трите дебелини. От миналата есен селяните в планинските български и сръбски села наоколо се бяха трудили като мравки, бяха начуквали и развлачвали конопа, бяха го прели и пресуквали и сега дойде времето да го продадат. И само като видиш цвета му, като го пипнеш как е изпреден, как мирише свежо и наситено, разбираш, че това е качество и майсторлък!
Или може би той, опитният търговец, го разбираше. Някой новак може и да го поизлъжат, но Грую Хлътев не беше с жълто около устата. Знаеше как да избира, та, като занесеше стоката си в Копривщица, в Пловдив или в Цариград, я продаваше хем на най-високата цена, хем без остатък.
Сега месец-два договаряше цената, записваше в тефтера и оставяше капаро. А после щеше да наеме кираджия с товарни коне и само за една седмица да обиколи отново всички, да доплати и да натовари денковете.
Ханджията го видя, че влиза, и дружески подвикна:
– Хайде бре, брате Грую, много си закъснио вечерас!
– Окъснях, зер, ама добра работа свърших – засмя се търговецът.– Я дай една чорба, че цял ден залък не съм сложил в устата.
Вътре беше топло и уютно и Грую се почувства като у дома си. Беше свикнал с тоя хан, с ниския му опушен таван от дебели четвъртити греди, с мижавите газени лампи по стените, с постоянните местни хора, които обичаха да си поприказват с пътниците какво има-няма по далечни земи. Но в тая дъждовна вечер кръчмата бе почти празна.
Translation - English
The Trader,
1843

The trader stopped at the threshold of an inn in the village. The wide open space of the courtyard was surrounded by a tall mud-brick wall topped with Turkish pan tiles so that the rains, like todays, would not drench and soften the unbaked clay. Such was the style of construction in these lands and throughout the Balkans where the trader travelled buying and selling his goods. The houses were built of wattle and plastered with clay to form walls. Clay was also shaped in wooden moulds and sun-dried to form bricks.
His house was different. It was two stories high, built out of solid timber beams and the boards which formed the wall were thick and well fitted. This made the house strong and very warm when the savage winter gales buffeted.
It was still some time before winter and snow would come. It was early September, Gruyu had left his village in the heartland of Bulgaria to travel to the western village to buy flax goods, as he did every autumn. In the evening he came back to the village of Vlasotintse to spend the night. He had known the inn keeper for many years and there was always room for him.
Gruyu took off his thick cape, sodden and heavy with the autumn rain and shook it violently before entering the inn. It was getting dark by the time he had completed his travels along the muddy village paths. This terribly rain day had in fact been very good for him, very good indeed! He had done a deal for twenty two loads of sewn linen sacks, three loads of finely woven sewing thread and twelve loads of good quality flax rope in three thicknesses. Since last autumn the villagers of the Bulgarian and Serbian mountains had been as busy as ants, beating and extruding the flax, spinning and twisting it, and now it was time to sell it. He only had to see its colour, to feel how it was spun, to smell its fresh scent, to appreciate the quality and craftsmanship!
At least as an experienced trader he could appreciate it. A novice might find himself tricked but Gruyu Hlatev wasn’t green around the ears. He knew how to select his wares and when he took his goods to Koprivshtitsa, Plovdiv or Istanbul, he could sell them for the best price and end up with none left over.
He had spent the last couple of months bargaining about prices, taking notes in his notebook and paying deposits. Now he would hire a driver with cart and heavy horses for a week in order to revisit all the villages to pay the full amount and load up his sacks.
The inn keeper saw him enter and called out in a friendly greeting with a thick western accent,
“Brother Gruyu, it’s about time you were back, you’re late tonight!”
“I’m late but I had a good day today!” The trader laughed. “I’m starving, I haven’t had a bite all day. Give me some soup!”
It was warm and cosy in the inn and Gruyu felt at home. He was used to the surroundings with its low smoke blackened ceiling made from thick square beams, its flickering paraffin lamps hanging on the walls, the regular locals who liked to chat to the travellers and ask them for news from distant places. But on this rainy evening the inn was almost empty
Russian to English: Literary translation Russian English
Source text - Russian
ГЛАВА 1
в которой Ириска и Полика узнают о прибытии цирка "Четырёх Обезьян", а Хиша и Уди хотят узнать, зачем он прибыл


Сегодня праздник! Сегодня - радость! Сегодня будет волшебство!
Сегодня смех зальёт округу и все лягут спать с хорошим настроением! Потому что сегодня...
- Ура! - Пробежав через калитку, десятилетняя Ириска не удержалась и захлопала в ладоши, бурно выражая охвативший её восторг. - Ура! Ура! Ура!!
- Чему радуешься? - громко спросила Полика.
Сестра, к которой радостная Ириска прибежала рассказать о приближающемся Событии, сидела на террасе и сосредоточенно красила ногти. Сегодня Полика решила подарить каждому пальцу собственный цвет, разместила на столе не менее трёх десятков флакончиков с лаками, и придирчиво выбирала из оттенков синего, зелёного, фиолетового, красного, жёлтого... Другими словами: из всех цветов и оттенков, что значились в её обширной коллекции. Занятие доставляло Полике истинное наслаждение, и девочка оторвалась от него неохотно, и даже поморщилась, услышав издаваемый Ириской шум, заодно подумав, что в их скучном дачном посёлке не могло случиться ничего, способного вызвать подобный восторг.
Лето было в самом разгаре - стоял июль, - многие ребята разъехались, Полика сама считала дни до обещанной родителями поездки к морю, и потому радость сестры показалась беспричинной. Впрочем, Ириска была младше на целых пять лет, и частенько радовалась тому, что "взрослая" пятнадцатилетняя Полика считала недостойным внимания или упоминания.
- Ура!
- Да что случилось?!
- Цирк! - Ириска подпрыгнула, рассмеялась и снова захлопала в ладоши. Её переполняли чувства. - Цирк!
- Что цирк?
- "Четырёх Обезьян"!
- Я его знаю, - подтвердила Полика, возвращаясь к ногтям. - И что?
- Цирк приехал!
- Куда?
- Сюда!
- Сюда?! - Старшая сестра так изумилась, что едва не покрасила мизинец чёрным лаком вместо тёмно-синего. - Джузеппе приехал сюда? Не может быть! Они не могут пройти в наш мир.
- Цирк остался в Прелести! Но он рядом! Прямо здесь!
- Где?
- Да за воротами! - выкрикнула Ириска, обрадованная тем, что сестра наконец-то ей поверила. - Цирк приехал и будет представление! Прямо сейчас!
- Где?
- На "футболке".
Так называли большую поляну за оградой дачного посёлка, на которой стояли ворота и несколько скамеек для зрителей. "Футболка" была достаточно большой, чтобы на ней расположился цирк "Четырёх Обезьян", но что ему делать здесь, в провинции, даже по меркам мира людей, не говоря уж о Прелести? Зачем давать представление вдали от шумных городов и многочисленных зрителей? Никогда раньше бродячие цирки не заглядывали в такие вот "медвежьи углы".
- Будет представление!
- Врёшь!
- Я слышала зазывал. - Ириска хотела обидеться на неверие, однако искренняя радость от появления циркачей помогла девочке сохранить хорошее настроение. - Они кричали, что будет представление.
- Но почему здесь?
- Может Джузеппе решил устроить нам сюрприз?
- Ты с ним говорила?
- Ещё нет. - Ириска схватила велосипед и развернула его к калитке. - Поехали!
- Подожди! - И Полика принялась торопливо докрашивать ногти. Именно докрашивать, не особенно задумываясь, каким цветом покрывает тот или иной палец.
Полика заторопилась, потому что увидела, как заискрился Самоцветный Ключ - особый кулон, который она постоянно носила на шее, и окончательно убедилась, что сестра не лжёт: цирк действительно поблизости и волшебный Самоцвет готов распахнуть двери, пропуская девочек в Прелесть. В чудесный мир, расположенный совсем рядом, и одновременно - необычайно далеко.
В мир магии и приключений.
- Кому ты сказала о цирке?
- Все уже знают!
- Где твой Ключ?
- В своей комнате оставила, - торопливо ответила Ириска. - Сбегать?
- Не будем терять время! - решила Полика, машинально дотронувшись до кулона. - Пройдём по моему Самоцвету. Так можно.
- Договорились!
Девчонки прыгнули на велосипеды и помчались к воротам посёлка.
Обе стройные, красивые, с большими глазами и светлыми, выгоревшими на солнце волосами: прямыми у Полика, кудрявыми у Ириски. Настолько соскучившиеся на летней даче, что без раздумий поспешили на звуки музыки, торопясь успеть к началу представления.
Поспешили, не зная, что впереди их ожидает невообразимо опасное приключение, уготовленное чёрным человеком
Translation - English
CHAPTER 1
In which Iriska and Polika find out about the arrival of the “Four Monkeys” Circus and Hisha and Udi want to know why the Circus has come


Today’s a festival! Today’s a joyous day! Today will be filled with magic!
Today the district will be filled with laughter and everyone will go to bed with happiness in their hearts! Because today…
“Hurray!” Ten-year old Iriska ran through the gate, and unable to restrain her joy, she clapped her hands in a heart-felt outpouring of the excitement which gripped her.
“Hurray!” “Hurray!” “Hurray!!”
“What are you so happy about?” - Polika asked her loudly.
The sister towards whom Iriska was running to tell the news of the imminent Event was sitting on the veranda intently varnishing her nails. Polika had today decided to give each of her nails its own colour. She placed no less than thirty small vials of varnish on the table and was meticulously choosing between shades of blue, green, purple, red, yellow… In other words, from amongst all the colours and shades in her enormous collection. Polika took real pleasure in this occupation and she grudgingly looked up from it. She even gave a little frown on hearing the noise made by Iriska, at the same time thinking that nothing could ever happen in this boring little village which could possibly give cause for such delight.
It was July, the height of summer. Many children had gone away and Polika herself was counting down the days until the trip to the sea which her parents had promised, so her sister’s joy seemed unfounded. Iriska was actually five years younger than Polika and was frequently happy that her “grown-up” fifteen-year old sister Polika considered this fact unworthy of attention or comment.
“Hurray!”
“What’s happened?!”
“The Circus!” Iriska jumped up and laughed, and clapped her hands again. She was brimming with emotions.
“The Circus!”
‘What circus?”
“The Four Monkeys!”
“I know it”, Polika replied in affirmation and went back to her nails. “So?”
“The Circus has come!”
‘Where?”
“Here!”
“Here?!”
Her older sister was so astonished that she almost varnished her little finger with black varnish instead of dark blue.
“Has Giuseppe come? He can’t have! They can’t get into our world”.
“The Circus has stopped in Splendour! But it’s so close! Right next door!”
“Where?”
“Right outside the gates!” Iriska exclaimed, overjoyed that her sister had at last believed her.
“The Circus has come and there will be a performance! Right now!”
“Where?”
“On the "football pitch”.
That what the name of the large meadow beyond the fence of the holiday village. It had goalposts and a few benches for spectators. The “football pitch” was big enough for the “Four Monkeys” Circus, but what was it doing here in the provinces, even by the standards of the world of people, not to mention the city of Splendour? Why should it be staging a performance so far from the noisy cities and multitudes of spectators? The travelling circuses had never visited such wild places off the beaten track before.
“They’re giving a performance!”
“You’re lying!”
”I heard the heralds”. Iriska felt almost offended by her sister’s disbelief, but her genuine joy at the appearance of the circus performers helped her to preserve her good spirits.
“They were shouting that there’s going to be a performance”.
“But why here?”
“Perhaps Giuseppe has decided to surprise us?”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Not yet”. Iriska grabbed her bicycle and turned it towards the gate. “Let’s go!”
Just wait!” Polika set to work hastily finishing off her nails. Finishing them off was just what she did, without a particular thought for the colour of one nail or another.
Polika began to make haste, since she noticed the Gemstone Key sparkle. It was a special pendant which she always wore around her neck and it proved to her that her sister wasn’t lying. The Circus really was close by and the magic Gemstone was ready to open the doors and let the girls into the city of Splendour. Into that wondrous world so close by, but at the same time so extraordinarily far away.
Into the world of magic and adventures.
“Who have you told about the Circus?”
“Everyone knows already!”
“Where’s your Key?”
“I left it my room”, Iriska replied hurriedly. “Shall I run and get it?”
“We’ve got no time to lose!" Polika decided, involuntarily touching the pendant. “We’ll get through with my Gemstone. That will work”.
“All right!”
The girls jumped onto their bicycles and rode quickly to the gates of the village.
They were both slender, beautiful with huge eyes and fair, sun-kissed hair; Polika’s was straight, and Iriska’s was curly. They were so bored in the summer cottage that without any ado they hastened towards the sound of the music, to arrive for the beginning of the performance.
They hurried unaware that what was about to befall them was an unimaginably dangerous adventure dreamt up by the black man who hated the magnificent Coral Palace.

Translation education PhD - University of Sofia
Experience Years of experience: 35. Registered at ProZ.com: Feb 2011. Became a member: Feb 2011.
ProZ.com Certified PRO certificate(s) N/A
Credentials Bulgarian to English (Association of Bulgarian Interpreters and Translat)
Russian to English (University of Bristol)
Bulgarian to English (University of Sofia, Bulgaria)
Russian to English (Chartered Institute of Linguists)
Bulgarian to English (Society of Authors: Translators Assoc.)


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Bio
30 years experience as a professional linguist. Lecturer in Russian language at Bristol university, 15 years experience working on EU accession projects in the area of taxation, customs and organised crime. In more recent years I have completed a large number of literary translations from Russian and Bulgaria. I have also lectured in translation studies in Russia, Bulgaria and Kazakhstan.
Keywords: Bulgarian, Russian, Translator, Interpreter, Government, Law Enforcement, Linguistics, Sport, Literature, Theatre. See more.Bulgarian, Russian, Translator, Interpreter, Government, Law Enforcement, Linguistics, Sport, Literature, Theatre, Poetry, Agriculture, Economics, Finance, Law, Legal, . See less.


Profile last updated
Mar 18