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Уловка-22. - параллельный перевод

Изучайте английский язык с помощью параллельного текста книги "Уловка-22". Метод интервальных повторений для пополнения словарного запаса английских слов. Встроенный словарь. Аналог метода Ильи Франка по изучению английского языка. Всего 766 книг и 2226 познавательных видеороликов в бесплатном доступе.

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He made Yossarian think of cripples and of cold and hungry men and women, and of all the dumb, passive, devout mothers with catatonic eyes nursing infants outdoors that same night with chilled animal udders bared insensibly to that same raw rain.
Он заставил Йоссариана вспомнить всех калек, продрогших и голодных мужчин и женщин, всех молчаливых, покорных, набожных матерей с глазами кататоничек, которые в эту же ночь, под тем же промозглым дождем, словно животные, кормят своих младенцев, тыча им в рот стылое бесчувственное вымя.
Cows.
Almost on cue, a nursing mother padded past holding an infant in black rags, and Yossarian wanted to smash her too, because she reminded him of the barefoot boy in the thin shirt and thin, tattered trousers and of all the shivering, stupefying misery in a world that never yet had provided enough heat and food and justice for all but an ingenious and unscrupulous handful.
Коровы, а не люди… И едва он успел об этом подумать, как мимо него проковыляла кормящая мать с завернутым в черное тряпье младенцем.
Она тоже напомнила ему обо всех больных мальчиках в легких рубашках и легких рваных штанишках, напомнила обо всей дрожащей, отупляющей нищете в мире, который еще никогда так и не дал достаточно тепла, пищи и справедливости никому, кроме горстки самых изворотливых и бессовестных.
What a lousy earth!
„О гнусный мир! — размышлял Йоссариан.
He wondered how many people were destitute that same night even in his own prosperous country, how many homes were shanties, how many husbands were drunk and wives socked, and how many children were bullied, abused or abandoned.
— Сколько обездоленных людей бродит в эту же ночь даже в преуспевающей Америке, сколько, и там еще лачуг, вместо домов, сколько пьяных мужей и избитых жен, сколько запуганных, обиженных и брошенных детей!
How many families hungered for food they could not afford to buy?
Сколько семей голодает, не имея возможности купить себе хлеб насущный!
How many hearts were broken?
Сколько сердец разбито!
How many suicides would take place that same night, how many people would go insane?
Сколько самоубийств произойдет в эту ночь!
Сколько людей сойдет с ума!
How many cockroaches and landlords would triumph?
Сколько землевладельцев и ростовщиков-кровососов восторжествует!
How many winners were losers, successes failures, rich men poor men?
Сколько победителей потерпело поражение!
Сколько счастливых финалов оказалось на самом деле несчастливыми!
How many wise guys were stupid?
How many happy endings were unhappy endings?
Сколько уважаемых людей продало свои души подлецам за мелкую монету, а у скольких души-то и вовсе не оказалось!
How many honest men were liars, brave men cowards, loyal men traitors, how many sainted men were corrupt, how many people in positions of trust had sold their souls to blackguards for petty cash, how many had never had souls?
How many straight-and-narrow paths were crooked paths?
How many best families were worst families and how many good people were bad people?
Сколько прямых дорог оказалось кривыми, скользкими дорожками!
When you added them all up and then subtracted, you might be left with only the children, and perhaps with Albert Einstein and an old violinist or sculptor somewhere.
И если все это сложить и вычесть, то в остатке окажутся только дети и еще, быть может, Альберт Эйнштейн да какой-нибудь скульптор или скрипач“.
Yossarian walked in lonely torture, feeling estranged, and could not wipe from his mind the excruciating image of the barefoot boy with sickly cheeks until he turned the corner into the avenue finally and came upon an Allied soldier having convulsions on the ground, a young lieutenant with a small, pale, boyish face.
Six other soldiers from different countries wrestled with different parts of him, striving to help him and hold him still.
He yelped and groaned unintelligibly through clenched teeth, his eyes rolled up into his head.
‘Don’t let him bite his tongue off,’ a short sergeant near Yossarian advised shrewdly, and a seventh man threw himself into the fray to wrestle with the ill lieutenant’s face.
All at once the wrestlers won and turned to each other undecidedly, for now that they held the young lieutenant rigid they did not know what to do with him.
A quiver of moronic panic spread from one straining brute face to another.
‘Why don’t you lift him up and put him on the hood of that car?’ a corporal standing in back of Yossarian drawled.
That seemed to make sense, so the seven men lifted the young lieutenant up and stretched him out carefully on the hood of a parked car, still pinning each struggling part of him down.
Once they had him stretched out on the hood of the parked car, they stared at each other uneasily again, for they had no idea what to do with him next.
‘Why don’t you lift him up off the hood of that car and lay him down on the ground?’ drawled the same corporal behind Yossarian.
That seemed like a good idea, too, and they began to move him back to the sidewalk, but before they could finish, a jeep raced up with a flashing red spotlight at the side and two military policemen in the front seat.
‘What’s going on?’ the driver yelled.
‘He’s having convulsions,’ one of the men grappling with one of the young lieutenant’s limbs answered.
‘We’re holding him still.’
‘That’s good.
He’s under arrest.’
‘What should we do with him?’
‘Keep him under arrest!’ the M.P. shouted, doubling over with raucous laughter at his jest, and sped away in his jeep.
Йоссариан шел один на один со своими мучительными мыслями, чувствуя свою отчужденность от мира, и не мог выкинуть из головы терзавший его образ босого мальчика с болезненным цветом лица.
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