Ok ragazzi, nuova follia. Ho usato un IA per cercare di tradurre la Leggenda in inglese. Cooosa? Ebbene si, sto provando tutte le strade, anche le più fantasiose per continuare questo progetto. Dopo aver contattato traduttori e insegnanti, anche madrelingua, ho sempre ritenuto le traduzioni ottenute prive di stile. Così ho dato in pasto la prima pagina del primo libro a una Intelligenza Artificiale. Il risultato lo trovate qui sotto. Indipendentemente dalla qualità e fedeltà ottenuta il risultato è stato a mio avviso sbalorditivo, e 6 spanne sopra a ogni altro sw di traduzione. Se qualcuno di Voi mastica l'inglese mi piacerebbe sapere il suo parere. Potete comunicarlo come risposta, o tramite contatto sul blog e segnalare cosa secondo voi potrebbe essere migliorato.
They were not thunder. He only realized this when a thick blanket of smoke rose in a already gray sky. It was then that Neril began to run. He quickly got rid of the thin game he had managed to get after a fruitless day on the outskirts of the plain. But he was still far from the village and he immediately realized that he had to abandon the bag with the small game in order to increase his pace. He quickly unbuckled the straps that secured it to his shoulders and then threw it without much caution into a green bush next to a large pine, memorizing its position so he could retrieve it later. He could simply leave it on the pavement, but it would be foolish to allow a lucky passerby to take possession of it, only to later discover that all that smoke in the distance was nothing but a burning barn. Nothing less likely, because in the plain, it happened quite often. Although lightning rods worked well, sometimes a lightning bolt escaped their field of action and more than once people in the village and their homes had suffered the consequences. Only two months ago, Gart's silo had been hit but it had not suffered major damage. The fire had been quickly put out with the help of the rain. Neril, however, was not convinced that it was a lightning bolt. The smoke cloud was getting bigger and denser: not even wet hay in the largest barn would have been able to do that. He increased his pace again, leaving the dirt road, now transformed into a uniform mud, and continued on the edge, zigzagging quickly through the low vegetation. A branch tore off his leather hood from his jacket, but the boy continued to run, ignoring the raindrops that wet his hair and face. When he arrived at the village, his eyes filled with terror and disbelief. Everything was burning. What shocked him was that all the inhabitants, instead of putting out the fire as he had seen them do many times, were running and screaming like crazy. A arrow passed so close to him that it brushed his clothes, then disappeared in an improbable trajectory. Then he understood. Suddenly awakened, he pulled out his hunting knife from his belt and ran towards his home. On the way, he tried several times to stop someone to understand who was attacking the village, but he met the enemy before getting an answer. It appeared in front of him unexpectedly, as if it had come out of nowhere: a being with human features, wrapped in a tattered robe that touched the ground, face and hands were wrapped in dirty and filthy bandages, black glasses covered his eyes, and the only thing visible on his face was a twisted smile.
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