Dawn Ann Curtis
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Quality translation

Professional, quality translation. One less thing for you to worry about.

​I am a qualified and experienced translator with the post-graduate-level Diploma in Translation from the UK’s Chartered Institute of Linguists. I also offer language consultancy and localisation services, specialising in, but not limited to, Nicaraguan Spanish and British English.


If you have any other language consultancy needs, do drop me a line. I may be able to help personally or through my network of professional linguists. 

Here is an example of why it pays to always use a professional translator:
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Original Spanish
(taken from Don Payasito by Ana María Matute)

Lucas de la Pedrería se sentaba y nos pedía las manos:

-Acá las “vuesas” manos, acá pa “adivinasus” todito el corazón…

Tendíamos las manos, con las palmas hacia arriba. Y el corazón nos latía fuerte. Como si realmente allí, en las nos lo pudiera ver: temblando, riendo.

Así, iba canturreando, y escupía al suelo una vez que otra. Nosotros nos mordíamos los labios para no reír.

-¡Tú, mentiste tres veces seguidas, como San Pedro! – le decía, a lo mejor, a mi hermano. Mi hermano se ponía colorado y se callaba. Tal vez era cierto, tal vez no. Pero ¿quién iba a discutírselo a Lucas de la Pedrería?

Google Translate’s Version

Precious stones of Lucas sat hands and asked us:

-Here the "your worship" hands, here pa "adivinasus" todito heart ...

Held out his hands, palms upward. And the heart will beat strong. As if actually there, in whatwe could do: trembling, laughing.

So, I was humming and spitting on the floor after another. We were biting their lips to laugh.

- You, you lied three times, as San Pedro! - I said, maybe, my brother. My brother blushed and kept silent. Maybe it was true, maybe not. But who would argue with the Precious stones Lucas?
Dawn’s Professional Translation

Lucas de la Pedrería would sit down and ask to see our hands.

”To me yer hands, to me, so I can tell ye all the secrets of yer heart.”

We would hold out our hands, with the palms facing upwards, trembling and laughing, our hearts beating furiously.  As if really there, in our hands, he could divine all the secrets of our heart.

On he would go, humming softly, spitting on the ground every now and then.  We would bite our lips so as not to laugh.

“Thrice you have lied, just like Saint Peter!” he would perhaps say to my brother.  My brother would blush and keep quiet.  Maybe it was true, maybe not.  But, who was going to argue with Lucas de la Pedrería?
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