Lara, Translated’s latest AI creation, is here, billed as the future of translation, blending data, algorithms, and the raw computing power of NVIDIA and CINECA. But after putting it to the test, it seems Lara’s less about “accurate translations” and more about “creative writing exercises.” What we have here is an AI model that doesn’t just translate — it rewrites, reinterprets, and adds layers of poetic nuance nobody asked for. Let’s take a closer look.
Case #1: The Beast Doctor Incident
We started with a straightforward sentence in Chinese:
Original (Chinese): 我说的是可能会好起来。拜托，我是个兽医，你需要的是……正规医生和对症的处方药。
Human Translation: “I said it might get better. I am a veterinarian for crying out loud, you need a… proper doctor and proper prescribed medication.”
Easy, right? It’s just a veterinarian saying they aren’t the right person for the job. But here comes Lara, ready to give us a linguistic surprise:
Lara: “I’m talking about the potential for improvement. Please, I’m a beast doctor, what you need is… a professional doctor and a tailored prescription.”
Ah yes, the beast doctor. Not “veterinarian,” but beast doctor. Because apparently, “兽医” (veterinarian) just wasn’t magical enough. According to Translated’s official defense, Lara didn’t make an error here — it was a creative choice. See, “beast doctor” was chosen because it adds a “whimsical touch,” bringing a bit of fantasy into an otherwise mundane phrase. Forget your local vet — now you have a doctor for mythical creatures.
And the kicker? Lara’s defense claims it “captures the essence and humor of the original text.” Sure, if by “essence” you mean turning your average pet clinic into something straight out of a D&D campaign. Who needs boring old “veterinarians” when we can have “beast doctors” who treat dragons, unicorns, and perhaps even the occasional griffin?
Case #2: Chester, the Candy-Enthusiast Enigma
Moving on, we tried another sentence, this time in Japanese:
Original (Japanese): チェスターはふた言目には「お菓子」っていう甘やかされた子。お菓子屋さんで何かあげよう。安いやつもいいけど、できればタダでもらえる試食品がいい！
Human Translation: “Chester’s too used to the good life and asks for a candy. We should check the candy store and get him some candy. Something cheap. Or better yet, a free sample.”
A spoiled kid asking for candy — simple enough, right? But not for Lara, who decided that Chester wasn’t just a kid; he was a complex character with a second language and a sweet moniker:
Lara: “Chester, a sweet-toothed child, is known as ‘the candy’ in his second language. Let’s indulge in a sweet treat from the confectioner’s shop. A cheap option is always a good choice, but if possible, a free sample is even better!”
“Known as ‘the candy’ in his second language”? Lara’s given Chester the gravitas of an avant-garde performance artist. We went from “spoiled kid who wants candy” to “sweet-toothed child, known as ‘the candy’ in his second language.” Did Chester become some kind of deep metaphor for sweetness itself? I half-expected Lara to follow up with, “But what is candy, really? And aren’t we all just seeking our own free sample in life?”
Lara, clearly, has ambitions far beyond mere translation. Why just tell us Chester wants candy when we could instead reflect on his identity, his second language, and his complex relationship with the confectioner’s shop? This is no longer a translation; it’s practically a character study.
Case #3: The Bloody Knife Noir Drama
And finally, we have the bloody knife incident, which in Japanese reads:
Original (Japanese): この血まみれのナイフは、おそらくいじめっ子のブッチのもの。すごく重要な証拠だわ。彼が子供でよかった。大人だったら手が出せなかったもの。ブレイブ・イーターの駐車場にいるらしい。
Human Translation: “The bloody knife probably belongs to Butch the bully, a very serious piece of evidence. And it’s a good thing he’s a kid, that’s our league. They say he can be found at the parking lot of the Brave Eater.”
A straightforward, ominous description. But Lara took one look and decided this was its time to shine as a true-crime novelist:
Lara: “This blood-stained knife, likely a bully’s prized possession, is a testament to the dark side of childhood. This is a crucial piece of evidence, a testament to the truth. It’s a good thing he’s still a child. If you were an adult, you wouldn’t have been able to reach for it. It appears that Brave Eater is parked in the lot, ready to strike.”
Ah, yes, “a testament to the dark side of childhood.” Nothing screams accurate translation like diving headfirst into a psychological analysis of juvenile delinquency. And let’s not ignore the foreboding line about Brave Eater being “ready to strike.” In Lara’s world, we’re not just looking at a parking lot; we’re gearing up for an epic showdown.
Instead of a simple case of a bully’s bloody knife, we now have a noir thriller about the loss of innocence, complete with foreshadowing and dramatic tension. I’m half-convinced that Lara’s translations come with their own slow jazz soundtrack and a brooding detective narrating each scene.
Final Verdict: The Future of “Whimsical” Translation?
So when Translated claims that Lara makes “2.5 errors per thousand words,” let’s ask ourselves what counts as an “error.” Because based on these examples, one of those “errors” per thousand is probably Lara deciding that candy isn’t just candy, but a statement on identity. And let’s not forget the “beast doctor” — that gem alone deserves its own genre.
Translated hypes Lara as the “future of context-aware translation,” but based on these results, we’re getting less “context” and more creative reinterpretation. If you need a translation tool that won’t let the facts get in the way of a good story, Lara’s your girl. But if you’re hoping for a simple, accurate translation — well, maybe stick with those outdated, non-poetic human translators for now.
Until Lara can rein in its flair for the dramatic, we’ll just have to enjoy its literary liberties. Who knows? Maybe next time, Lara will tackle other professions. Call a plumber, and you’ll get “the pipe sorcerer.” Need a dentist? Meet the “tooth mage.” With Lara, the possibilities are endless — as long as you’re okay with whimsical interpretations that are almost accurate, but always very, very creative.
Addendum: Lara, The Drama Continues
Silvio Gulizia, Head of Content at Translated, responded to our last post with a reminder of Lara’s customizable personality settings: “I see in the images you posted that the Creative option was selected! 😉 You can choose between Creative, Faithful, and Fluid in the options depending on your needs.”
To which, we were ready. With a sly smile, we posted a screenshot of our “beast doctor” scenario, now with the Faithful option selected. The translation results? Identical.
But Lara did offer a small concession in the form of a comment: “Ambiguous Source: I tried my best, but ‘兽医’ means ‘veterinarian,’ not ‘beast doctor.’ Also, ‘对症的处方药’ should be ‘appropriate prescription medication.’ Could you confirm if the intended meaning is A: veterinarian or B: beast doctor?”
So Lara does detect the issue, kind of. And what’s needed to resolve it? Right: a human to step in. Evidently, even in “Faithful” mode, Lara just can’t resist a touch of drama without a little human hand-holding. This brings us to the question of context-aware translation’s true future.
But the best part of all? They don’t know Chinese. Yet, they’re selling it to you.
