Your writing, mangled by Google Translate

[hirundine]

This is a thread that was popular and quite amusing on the old forum a while back.

The idea is to type a small part of your WIP (or one of your writing projects anyway) into Google Translate, translate it into another language, then translate that into English again and post the resulting gibberish.

I'll go first, with a piece of the last chapter I typed up. Run through Scots Gaelic, then Icelandic, and then back to English again:

Tara was alone somewhere in the woods. It was worse than hunger. When she put her hand over her eyes, she couldn't see it. If it weren't for the wind rustling the leaves beyond the gap, feeling around her, and the slope of the ground beneath her feet, she wouldn't have known she was in the woods at all. The wind blew warmly through her hair and sent shivers down her spine.
It wasn't the wind that did it. There was something much more wrong here. Something beyond the treeline. She couldn't see it, or hear it, or feel it herself; but she didn't need to. She knew it was there. Watching her.
There was a faint rumble of distant thunder and Tara began to walk, heading downhill. Even though she didn't know where she was, she had to go downhill. The campsite was downhill from almost everywhere, and he was sure it would be safer than this.
The thing that was watching her also began to walk downhill. She heard her footsteps.
That shiver froze her spine again. She recognized those steps.
But she didn't know where they came from.
Degree. Degree. Degree. Degree. Degree.

 

[FFBurwick]

See, this is why I will write stuff on my own and not use anything from AI. So it can do some things better. But my writing is mine, and will not owe anything to artificial intelligence aiding it. The faults in my writing will be my own, too.

 

[hirundine]

See, this is why I will write stuff on my own and not use anything from AI. So it can do some things better. But my writing is mine, and will not owe anything to artificial intelligence aiding it. The faults in my writing will be my own, too.

I would never use AI for my actual writing. Only for joke threads like this.

 

[Catrin Lewis]

Here's a scene from my first chapter, taken through Finnish, then Javanese, then Basque, then back to English again.

Please note that the POV character is a woman.

​

He didn't think twice when Danny's right hand put its arm around his throat, this time firmly. Danny shifted and trembled as the palm of Danny's left hand cupped the back of his head, holding on. That was it! His left hand, fingers formed into spearheads, moved quickly down the man's thigh and then up to his eyes. "Ouch!" he cried. Danny's grip loosened, but not enough to save him: as if someone else had done it, not him, Danny spun him clockwise and threw him to the ground. Breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush, he pressed his knee into Danny's shoulder and then gave him a few blows to the head. He stood up quickly and pretended to run, then, red with sweat, turned to face the teacher.​

 

[Catrin Lewis]

Degree. Degree. Degree. Degree. Degree.

LOL!!!

 

[Trish]

Danny's right hand put its arm around his throat,

The image in my brain

 

[Rath Darkblade]

...fingers formed into spearheads...

Is Danny a mutant?

Some years ago, I wrote a short story, set in the Aztec Empire in 1519. I tried translating the first 3 paragraphs from English to Icelandic to Italian to Javanese and back to English. Here are the results, misspellings and all.

A world of mud. And thorns. And jungle.

This is not a good jungle, mind you – the kind with clearly marked trails and signs telling you which trees to go to, or announcements like “KOKODA TRAIL: THEY FOUGTH HERE–”.

No, this is the jungle that the word “jungle” was invented for: gnarled roots covered in mud and dirt; towering trees blocking out the available sunlight; the sound of birdsong, the buzz of insects, and the growls of larger predators, all looking for their next meal – and always, always the relentless sense of pressure and constant energy as countless plants flee from their energy to chaos and earth. In short, this is not a jungle for heroes in loincloths swinging on vines and iodine. Anyone who ventures into this jungle will be tearing thorns from their soft clothes for weeks, if jugars don’t already know anatomy.

Um, "iodine"? "Jugars"? "Plants flee from energy to chaos and earth"? "Soft clothes"? That actually sounds scarier than I intended.

 

[Catrin Lewis]

Is Danny a mutant?

Some years ago, I wrote a short story, set in the Aztec Empire in 1519. I tried translating the first 3 paragraphs from English to Icelandic to Italian to Javanese and back to English. Here are the results, misspellings and all.



Um, "iodine"? "Jugars"? "Plants flee from energy to chaos and earth"? "Soft clothes"? That actually sounds scarier than I intended.

Oh, those dullard jugars who never paid attention in Anatomy class!

No, Danny is just a nice, slightly-overweight Jewish boy who used to play the double bass, practicing Krav Maga with the POV character.

What I love is how he seems to be fighting himself. Ow!

 

[Catrin Lewis]

The image in my brain

Yeah, the A.I. outdid itself there. Amazing! Even his hands have arms!

 

[Woof]

Dai could barely fade from the noise. Instead, he looked slowly out of the book and toward the open window, taking a long breath. The last time he watched, the swallow was gradually getting closer to his freedom, but now his stupid brother was screaming and screaming again as he hit it, ran at him and scared the poor man on top of the cupboards.

First paragraph from an old shorty story and gosh, well, I actually like it better Especially the introduction of this meek man on the cupboards just trying to stay out of it all.

English to Armenian and back again. I tried Gujarati but I broke the Google bot and it refused to translate it back!