Rain

[Kitten]

Hallo iedereen,

Iemand die het wil lezen, pas op: in 't Engels (ik heb niet gevonden dat het niet mag, sla me als dat wel zo is). Inhoud kan ongeschikt zijn voor de jongeren onder ons ('t niet heel erg, maar beter teveel dan te weinig waarschuwen). Ik hoop dat ik geen regels heb overtreden
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Rain

The rain slowly poored down on the yard. The splattering on the wet stones made the night darker than it already was. A single light squeeked as it slowly moved in the light wind, casting it’s gloomy glance upon the grass around it. The yard would be considered empty, weren’t it that there was a man there.

This was a normal man it seemed. Dressed in a large raincoat, he could resemble any later traveller. He appeared mid 40’s by the lightly bent posture. His steps were firm, yet not hasted; this men knew this square. He stood about one meter eightyfive tall and had broad shoulders. His head was covered by a hat and a few grey hairs could be seen sticking forth from it.

He stopped at the light and looked up. A cracking thunder split the sky and one could see the face of a beaten man. His nose was at a slightly odd angle, like it had been broken recently. Another thunder lit him up and cold eyes could be seen, resisting the rain that came in them. A crack could be heard as he slowly squeezed his leather gloves. He shook his head and walked on.

Crossing the yard wasn’t a job that took very long. Only 2 minutes after he entered it, he came at the end. Then he turned around, walking back a little. He inspected something that seemed to be on the ground. Picking it up he helt it high to the light. It was a note, but whatever had been written on it was now unreadable. He walked over to the trashcan near the bench and dropped the paper into it.

Another man could be seen now. He was wearing black jeans, shoes and a shirt. He didn’t seem in a hurry either, though the shirt was totally plastered to his body by the rain. Strolling over the yard his eyes kept fixed on the other man. He passed and greeted the other. Neither men seemed to be surprised that the other was there, though the clocks on the background were eagerly sounding 12 o’clock.

Silence returned as the man without jacket left the quare. The man with the jacket looked up from the trashcan and walked after the man without jacket. He caught up with the man and handed him a lighter. Few people would have seen the other drop the lighter by accident. It was a beautiful lighter, shaped like a naked woman with all forms included. Though not all would appreciate the art, it was well done. No possible flaw would be seen.

The man thanked the other as he immediately lit a sigaret. The men once again split ways... or didn’t they? Before the man in the jacket could react, the other drew something black. As he raised his hand, one could barely see the features of a gun. He fired the other in the back of his head, trice. If someone had been able to see the shots, he could have seen a geometrical precision. Every shot was hard, every shot was clear and every shot was accompanied by the raoring sound of thunder. The other collapsed on the ground and was left dead.

Next morning the news spread across the city. The Vice-President had been murdered in cold blood. Three shots in the back of the head, no evidence at all. Though he had been shot on a public carpark, no-one had heard a sound. The policeman covered the body and admired his work for one last time. This thrill would last longer than most...

[Zut Alors!]

Rain

The rain slowly poored down on the yard(square). The splattering (sound) on the wet stones made the night darker than it already was. A single light(lantern) squeeked as it slowly moved in the light wind, casting it’s gloomy glance upon the grass around it. The yard would be considered empty, weren’t it that there was a man there.

This was a normal man it seemed. Dressed in a large raincoat, he could resemble any later(late) traveller. He appeared(to be in his) mid 40’s by(judging from) the lightly bent posture. His steps were firm, yet not hasted; this men(man) knew this square. He stood about one-meter-eightyfive tall and had broad shoulders. His head was covered by a hat and a few grey hairs could be seen sticking forth from (underneath) it.

He stopped at the light and looked up. A crack(l)ing thunder split the sky and (in that light)one could (have)see(n ) the face of a beaten man. His nose was(stood) at a slightly odd angle, like it had been broken recently. Another thunder lit him up and cold eyes could be seen, resisting(?) the rain that came in them. A crack(ling noise) could be heard as he slowly squeezed his leather gloves. He shook his head and walked on.

Crossing the yard(square) wasn’t a job that took (him) very long. Only 2(two) minutes after he entered it, he came at the end(ended at the other side). Then he turned around, walking(and walked) back a little. He inspected something that seemed to be on the ground. Picking it up he (picked it up and) helt it high to the light. It was a note, but whatever had been written on it was now unreadable. He walked over to the trashcan near the bench and dropped the paper(it) into it.

Another man could be seen(appeared) now. He was wearing black jeans, shoes and a shirt. He didn’t seem in a hurry either, though the shirt was totally plastered to his body by the rain. Strolling over the yard(square), his eyes kept fixed on the other man. He passed and (they) greeted the other(oneanother). Neither men seemed to be surprised that the other was there, though the clocks on the background were eagerly sounding 12 o’clock.

Silence returned as the man without jacket left the quare. The man with the jacket looked up from the trashcan and walked after the man without jacket. He caught up with the man and handed him a lighter. Few people would have seen the other drop the lighter by accident. It was a beautiful lighter, shaped like a naked woman with all forms included. Though not all would appreciate the art, it was well done. No possible flaw would be seen.

The man thanked the other as he immediately lit a sigaret. The men once again (they) split ways... or didn’t they? Before the man in the(without) jacket could react, the other drew something black. As he raised his hand, one could (have) barely see(n ) the features of a gun. He fired the other in the back of his head, trice. If someone had been able to see the shots, he could have seen a geometrical precision. Every shot was hard, every shot was clear and every shot was accompanied by the roaring sound of thunder. The other collapsed on the ground and was left dead.

Next morning the news spread (rapidly) across the city. The Vice-President had been murdered in cold blood. Three shots in the back of the head, no evidence at all. Though he had been shot on a public carpark, no-one had heard a sound. The policeman covered the body and admired his work for one last time. This thrill would last longer than most...


Sommige van mijn verbeteringen zouden fout kunnen zijn, maar bij mijn weten is dat niet zo. Dit zijn alleen verbeteringen in je spelling en gramatica, en het zou kunnen zijn dat ik nog wat over het hoofd heb gezien. Inhoudelijk vind ik je tekst weinig sterk, verder stoort het me erg dat je de hele tijd vertelt over the one with the jacket/without the jacket en the man/the other man iets meer synoniemen was wel fijn geweest, vooral omdat het soms enkele zinnen na elkaar weer gebeurt. Verder heb ik yard telkens vervangen, omdat het zich niet in een tuin afspeelt, maar op een plein. Enkele andere synoniemen moet je zelf maar zoeken.
Boven alles vind ik het evengoed leuk dat je in het engels hebt geschreven. Alleen jammer dat het nog niet zoveel soeps is.

en ja; ik ben erg ijverig geweest...

[Kitten]

Je meeste verbeteringen zijn verbeteringen op gebruik van Engelse stijl en op een paar fouten. En een paar stijlveranderingen die niet perse van toepassing zijn. Misschien is het beter leesbaar, maar ik schrijf graag zo.

Bovendien verander ik een paar keer van tegenwoordige naar verleden tijd en terug. En synoniemen zijn niet mogelijk zonder teveel van het verhaal prijs te geven, tenminste, niet die ik kon bedenken.

Je hebt ook een fout gemaakt, omdat die gast met de regenjas wordt neergeknalt, niet die zonder. En het was een tuin, maar ze liepen er van af

[Zut Alors!]

Waarom ziet die man met die jas er dan luguber uit? Waarom hangt hij de hele tijd doelloos rond op het plein? Waarom gaat hij achter die ander aan en biedt hij hem een aansteker (dat stuk vond ik sowieso een onbegrijpelijke toevoeging)?

En de meeste van mijn verbeteringen zijn geen verbeteringen op gebruik van stijl, maar op gebruik van juiste woorden en grammatica. De dingen die jij schrijft kunnen wel (als je het letterlijk vertaalt), zijn wel begrijpelijk, maar ze kloppen niet. Voor een engelsman (of een amerikaan, wat je wilt) zou het direct duidelijk zijn dat dit gebrekkig geschreven is.

Ik zou het punt voor punt kunnen toelichten, maar dat gaat me teveel moeite kosten. Zeg jij eventueel maar waarom het niet fout is, misschien zie je het dan.

[Tovenaar]

Los van het feit of het verhaal in correct Engels geschreven is, (de reden waarom iemand met Nederlands als eerste taal in het Engels een verhaal gaat schrijven ontgaat me ook..) vind ik het verhaal te warrig en mede daardoor niet levend genoeg. Bovendien is vooral het einde (na een moord vertellen wat de media ervan maken) nogal cliche. En zoals al aangegeven, dat ''the man with the jacket'' en ''the man without the jacket'' is irritant.