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NAME: Marek Urban


TEL.: +48 508 195 674
CITIZENSHIP: Polish, Australian.
Web: http://www.proz.com/translator/64759
See Project History Tag
Email:

EDUCATION:
MA in Social Sciences from
Catholic University of Lublin 5 y. course.
Thesis in Philosophy of Law

CREDENTIALS:Translator License by Chief Technical Organization. Warsaw 1990
Verified by ProZ

REFERENCES:
Anita Myszk -
Melissa Agnus -
Bobby Lahiere -
Margaret Hickey -

RECENTLY DONE:
Timber Industry Certificates into English
Cement Industry Sociological Survey Transcription
Legal Contract into English.
Building Construction into English
Localization into Polish.
Milk Quotation in Poland into English.
Dentistry Legal Contract into Polish.
Machinery manual into Polish.
Computer Science project into English
Road Construction Project into English
Literature. Memories of War into English
Literature. Bible into Polish
IT. Tutorials for olitext game into English

CAPACITY: 10 pages a day 6 days a week
PRICES: $ 0.05 to 0.15 per source word
PAYMENTS: Bank transfer, PBS 11964400072001005416040001 also
paypals, moneybookers.

EXPERTISE
IT, Social Science, Economy,Finance, Computer Science, Insurance,Road Construction, General Law, Technical, Localization, Automotive, Fiction, Poetry, Health Care, Tourism, Agriculture, Astronomy,Folklore,Forestry, Medical, Transportation.

TRANSLATION SOFTWARE:
TRADOS * WORDFAST * IBM TM * METATEXIS * OMEGA T




Sample translation: The Poem by Boleslaw Lesmian. Polish Poet of Jewish origin. Never translated into any language for his neologisms.

I'd like to have a hut in the wild forest density,
Made of firewood and a forest scarcity,
Hanged high among old branches pinions,
Over jaguar caves and snake canyons..
There, on moss, swung with a mad storm,
I'd like to have a maid strange and warm.
Eat her breast, torn apart with my teeth,
And kiss her face, given as a feast -
Hear the storm, around my sinful indulge;
A thunderbolt dying noiselessly at large,
Roaring beasts, with our bodies smell attracted,
Ruptured bodies, elevated, in the spasm contracted.
And there, through an accidental among branches hole,
I'd like to look into the night and stars that glow.
And take for god - any brightness in the sky.
And on the girl's bosom wait over the night.
But welcome sun, with a howl, screams and cries.
Live blindfolded, not knowing the life.
And laughing boldly at the sky one night,
Not knowing redemption or prayer nor fright,
Like a fruit which devouring jaw awaits,
Fall into death darkness with rumbles and yells.




With best regards
Marek Urban

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