The opening passages of The Picture of Dorian Gray ruined by Google Translate

First the original courtesy of Oscar Wilde. The Oscar Wilde that was not waging war on Tesla from a battle dirigible. I can't stress that enough. The battle dirigible version of Wilde gave us nothing so majestic.

The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.
 

From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as usual, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-colored blossoms of the laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs; and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think of those pallid jade-faced painters who, in an art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion. The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the long unmown grass, or circling with monotonous insistence round the black-crocketed spires of the early June hollyhocks, seemed to make the stillness more oppressive, and the dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ.

In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood the full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty, and in front of it, some little distance away, was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused, at the time, such public excitement, and gave rise to so many strange conjectures.

And here it is Google translated into Swedish:

Studion var fylld med den rika lukten av rosor, och när den ljusa sommarnatten vinden rörs bland träden i trädgården kom genom den öppna dörren den tunga doften av lila, eller den mer känsliga parfym av den rosa-blommande tagg.

Från hörnet av soffan av persiska sadel-bags som han låg, rökning, som vanligt, otaliga cigaretter, skulle Lord Henry Wotton fånga bara glimt av honung söta och honung-färgade blommor i gullregn, vars darrande grenar verkade knappt kunna bära bördan av en skönhet så flamliknande som deras, och då och då de fantastiska skuggor av fåglar i flykt fladdrade över långa vildsilke-siden gardiner som sträcks framför den enorma fönstret, som producerar ett slags momentan japansk effekt och göra honom tänker på de bleka jade-faced målare som i en konst som med nödvändighet orörlig, syftar till att förmedla känslan av snabbhet och rörelse. Den tystlåten sorl av bina axla sig igenom den långa unmown gräs eller Cirkling med monoton envishet runt svart crocketed spiror i början juni stockrosor, tycktes göra stillhet mer förtryckande och det svaga bruset av London var som Bourdon notera en avlägsen orgel.

I mitten av rummet, fastspända i en upprätt staffli, stod full längd porträtt av en ung man med extraordinära personlig skönhet och framför den, någon liten bit bort, satt konstnären själv, Basil Hallward, vars plötsliga försvinner för några år sedan orsakade, vid den tiden, sådan offentlig spänning, och gav upphov till så många konstiga gissningar.

And into Japanese:

  
スタジオはバラの豊かな香りで満たされ、光夏の夜風は庭の木々に囲まれたときに攪拌されたオープンドアからライラックの重い香り、またはピンク開花とげのより繊細な香水になった。

彼が横たわっていたペルシャのサドルバッグのソファの隅から、喫煙、いつものように、無数のタバコのように、主ヘンリーウォットンは震える枝はほとんど美の負担に耐えることができなかったようキングサリの蜂蜜甘いと蜂蜜色の花、唯一の見え隠れをキャッチそう彼らのもののように炎のような、そして今して瞬間的な日本の効果の種類を生産し、巨大な窓の前に伸ばして長い野蚕シルクのカーテンの上flitted飛行中の鳥の幻想的な影が、彼はそれらの淡いヒスイの顔の画家考える作る必ずしも不動である芸術は、スピードと動きの感覚を伝えることを意図。長い刈り取られていない草を介して自分の道を背負ったり、単調な主張丸い黒と旋回ミツバチの不機嫌な雑音は、6月上旬タチアオイに尖塔をcrocketed静けさをより抑圧的なように見えた、とロンドンのかすかな轟音は遠隔臓器のブルドンノートのようだった。

部屋の真ん中に、直立イーゼルにクランプ、その突然の失踪、何年か前に引き起こさバジルHallwardは、で、アーティスト自身が座っていた、離れて完全長臨時パーソナル美の若い男の肖像画と、その前に、いくつかの小さな距離に立っていた時間は、公共興奮し、非常に多くの奇妙な憶測を生んだ。

Then turned into Icelandic:

Studio er fyllt með ríkur ilm af rós, vindur sumarkvöldi ljós varð ilmvatn meira viðkvæmur spiny flóru bleikur, eða lykta þungur Lilac frá opnum dyrum var hreyft þegar hún er umkringd trjám í garðinum.

Úr horninu á sófanum í hnakkur poka of Persia þar sem hann lá, reykingar, eins og venjulega, eins og tóbaks óteljandi greinum Henry Wotton Lord skjálfandi Laburnum svo að hann gat ekki bera byrði af fegurð nánast framleiða konar áhrif Japan tafarlaus núna og þá, það er löng leið fyrir framan glugga gríðarstór og eldheitur eins þeirra svo að grípa blóm hunang-lituð, fagurt og eina sæt og hunang frábær skuggar af fuglum á flugi færði á villtum silkworm silki gardínur, en hann heldur að list sé endilega immobile andlit málari föl Jade þeim er ætlað að miðla tilfinningu fyrir hraða og hreyfingu. Eða öxl sér leið í gegnum grasi unmown lengri, hávaða Moody býflugur og beygja svartur umferð fullyrðingu eintóna, og ég virtist þvingandi meiri ró crocketed The Spire um hollyhock snemma júní daufa öskra á London var eins Bourdon mið af fjarlæg líffæri.

Í miðju herbergi í listamaður sjálfur sat, með mynd af ungum manni og persónulega ótrúlega fullri lengd, þvinga, hvarf í einu, að Basil Fyrirlesturinn valda fyrir nokkrum árum síðan, áður en burt easel upprétt Almenn spennt, tími til, stóð í smá fjarlægð, ól fjölda mjög undarlegt vangaveltur.

And now back into English:

Studio is filled with the rich aroma of rose, wind summer evening light became more delicate perfume spiny flowering pink, lilac or heavy smell from the open door was moved when it is surrounded by trees in the garden.

From the corner of the couch in the saddle bag of Persia, where he was lying, smoking, as usual, like tobacco countless articles Lord Henry Wotton Laburnum trembling so that he could not bear the burden of beauty almost produce different effect instantaneous Japan now and then, it There is a long way in front of the window huge and fiery as those that take flower honey-colored, beautiful and a sweet honey fantastic shadows of birds in flight brought the wild silkworm silk curtains, but he thinks that art is necessarily immobile face painter pale jade they are meant to convey a sense of speed and motion. Or shoulder their way through the long unmown grass, noise Moody bees and turning black round assertion monotonous, and I seemed more calm repressive crocketed The Spire of Holly Hock early June dull roar of London was like Bourdon account of distant organs.

In the middle of the room sat the artist himself, with a picture of a young man and an amazing personal full-length, force, disappeared for a time, causing Basil lecture a few years ago, before off easel upright general excited, time stood at a little distance, bore a number of very bizarre speculation.

*wipes a single tear from his face*