Les Miserable Translation Novels & Stories

I smile, they'll soon be chummy, I am quite sure of that fact. I set down the mason jar and greet them. They send me lukewarm greetings and come to the table to eat. As they sit themselves, Abdul says, "Thank God you are done cooking, I'm starving." I scoff as I spoon food in his plate. This man must think me a robot and a stupid woman.

Cursing in Russian, she jumped and slammed the gauze on my arm, putting it in a vice grip as the blood poured out. “Suka, u tebya yest' zhelaniye umeret'?” Kamilia growled angrily at me. I looked up at Marek for a translation but he had fallen back a few steps, looking unsteady on his feet. “I’m fine. This isn’t the worst I’ve had. If anything, this is a normal Friday afternoon.” I kept my tone light but no one seemed to lighten up.

He poured out his heart. ‘Me mudda, me fadda, me brudda, me sista, dey don’t have nothin’. Not a one ting. Me village is empty of all money and is only hunga an’ war. So, ah come here. You look afta me Mis Lala, but you, you, (he thought of a phrase the English used in scorn) tek da piss! Ah’m sorry I tek de money.’

The others exchanged uncertain glances as I continued, “Honestly, there’s nothing fascinating about this human world. All it’s given us is a cold, drenching rain to remind us why we don’t belong here.” Maureen sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know what? I agree,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. This whole mission has been a disaster from the start,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do you know what I hate most about the human world? Their ridiculous transportation, whatever they’re called—they rattle and shake like they’re falling apart. I thought I was going to lose what little dignity I have left when my stomach kept turning like I’d been cursed. Never again.”

He kind of let out a low growl in frustration. Maze was getting tired of all of this. As she still wasn't getting what they were saying. She was gawking at their mouth like a hawk trying to at least grab natural humanoid words. Her accidental huge sigh forced Veronica's attention on her, "Oh, ciao bellissima ( Oh, Hello beautiful )," Veronica sounded excited, but her question in Italian made Maze more frustrated. Involuntarily Maze made a disappointed sound that didn't go unnoticed by all. Veronica felt a little disheartened, but all this doesn't matter to her. Being a prostitute by profession, she learned a lot. She shoved off all her disappointment and stayed still there.

He raised his sword and pointed it at everyone, “What a bunch of dumb*sses!” “Why can’t I conjure my energy?” “D*mn it! Mist poisoned the wine!” Suddenly, everyone’s body felt numb, and soon, the floor greeted them. “D*mn it, I can’t move! What do you want?!” Before long, everyone was either down on the table or on the floor, unmoving. “What do I want? I want to kill each and everyone of you that opposed me!” scoffed Mist, with that, his blade flew past, and another was dead.

Astolfo's heart twinged, his hope disappeared with the air. Misha was standing a meters away from him, she looked like him, she didn't have sleep even a wink because her mind was clouded with hurtful thoughts and sadness, her eyes deeply sunken in their sockets, her heaving chest narrow and bony as they both heard another wave from the sea. "I'm sorry Astolfo, she can't come," she mumbled and her breath hitched when the coldness of the air mixed with a splash of water flutter to her cheeks.

Translation done! OMG, I'm crying, after so many years~lol... Hope you like the translation... Love, queenkimzxie

It is painful, merciless and very slow. I looked down at Misha: he growled and, burning me with a luminous look, tried to get up, but the silver bullets in both legs skillfully did their job, and the young wolf with a miserable look almost crawled along the floor, flooding everything around with blood. He definitely had a bad day today, that is, evening.

Cold tears of hate streamed down his face, just as they did down his father's, something that made him frown and whisper-tatan? Despair overwhelmed him as he spoke disconnected things like -si ce conteazã alum cã e mort inimic [and what does it matter, now he is dead] while shaking his inert body that will remain from the passion still at the sepulcher's door-altceva nu conteazã [nothing else matters] tata?!