Fellow enjoyers of suggestive desserts, I decided to translate this part of the episode “Distant Voices.” The actors are at fault for this, bless them. Translations are in bold.
BASHIR: Can I interest you in some more Yigrish cream pie?
May I entice you into eating a suggestive dessert as a prelude to other suggestive things?
GARAK: No, thank you, Doctor. I'm quite full.
You’re a touch obvious, you know that? As well as obscene. We are in public.
BASHIR: But you've hardly touched your food.
I pay very close attention to you, but only in totally appropriate ways.
GARAK: The truth is, I'm trying to lose a little weight. Hemming women's dresses may provide me with a modest income, but it offers very little in the way of exercise.
Tell me I’m pretty. Also thin.
BASHIR: Well if you like, I can help you set up an exercise programme in one of the holosuites here.
I am using exercise as a euphemism, here, darling. Hint hint.
GARAK: I might just take you up on that. And speaking of holosuites (Garak takes out an isolinear rod with a ribbon around it and hands it to Bashir.) GARAK: Happy birthday. I know it's a few days off, but I wanted to give you your present early. It's a Cardassian holosuite programme. An adaptation of one of Shoggoth's enigma tales.
Still in public, silly creature. No, you never told me your birthdate, but you think the spy thing is hot so I figured it out. Also, I refuse to share you with this entire station, so I’m celebrating you today. Speaking of getting up to things in the holosuite…
BASHIR: Is it? I see.
I told you I wanted you to design yourself some lingerie. You’re such a prude.
GARAK: You sound disappointed. I thought you enjoyed mystery novels.
Praise me for my thoughtfulness.
BASHIR: I do. Human mystery novels. The problem with Cardassian enigma tales is that they all end the same way. All the suspects are always guilty.
Lingerie, Garak. You won’t wear it in the holosuite so quit trying to distract me.
GARAK: Yes, but the challenge is determining exactly who is guilty of what. Is Lieutenant Dax throwing one of her surprise parties for you this year?
Jealousy.
BASHIR: Oh, so I'm told.
Come to the party and make out with me, you twit.
GARAK: You don't sound enthusiastic about that either.
Not happening.
BASHIR: It's not that I don't appreciate all the trouble she goes to and everything. It's just that this year is a little different.
Fine. If we aren’t going to discuss lingerie, existential angst it is.
GARAK: How so?
I can win much more easily at this.
BASHIR: This will be my thirtieth birthday.
Isn’t it obvious?
GARAK: And?
I’m older than you. Do be careful, hmm?
BASHIR: Well, in many human cultures, the thirtieth birthday is considered a sort of landmark. It marks the end of youth and the beginning of the slow march into middle age.
Plays: “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”
GARAK: And that's considered bad?
Augmented does not mean that you exist outside of time, Julian. Honestly.
BASHIR: No. It's just that when you hit thirty, it becomes harder and harder to ignore the passage of time.
Tell me I’m pretty.
GARAK: I wasn't aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power and dignity.
Hint, hint. I’m hardly advanced, but you’ve secured yourself quite the catch, my dear.
BASHIR: Well I am aware that aging is part of the natural process of life. It's just that I don't want to be reminded of it, that's all. Look, Garak, in two days I turn thirty. If I choose to be grumpy about it, that's my prerogative
(Oblivious) Yes, I am a doctor but I would like to overlook all that biology rubbish.
GARAK: By all means, Doctor, be as grumpy as you like.
I’m feeling a touch cross myself, given that you are missing what’s right in front of you. This is what one gets for dating another species…
BASHIR: Thank you for the support.
What are you cranky about? I’m the one who is fast becoming ancient and undesirable.
QUARK: I hope you'll forgive the interruption.
Fierce and dangerous boyfriend of the idiot, I apologize for butting in.
GARAK: Of course.
At least someone sees my amazing qualities.
QUARK: You know, we just introduced a new lunch menu at the bar.
Can I sell you something? Anything? You’re looking much too thin!
BASHIR: Goodbye, Quark.
GARAK: Don’t take it personally. He’s turning thirty.
Apologies for my young, stupid boyfriend. He gets by on his looks, you know.
