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 802 книги и 2475 познавательных видеороликов в бесплатном доступе.

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‘Yes,’ Yossarian answered loudly, ‘that is Lieutenant Dunbar.’
— Да, — ответил Йоссариан громко, — это лейтенант Данбэр.
‘Thank you,’ the chaplain whispered.
‘Thank you very much.
— Спасибо, — прошептал капеллан, — большое спасибо.
I must visit with him.
Мне надо с ним поговорить.
I must visit with every member of the group who is in the hospital.’
Я должен проведать в госпитале всех наших однополчан.
‘Even those in other wards?’
Yossarian asked.
— И в других палатах тоже?..
‘Even those in other wards.’
— Да, и в других тоже.
‘Be careful in those other wards, Father,’ Yossarian warned.
— Будьте осторожны в других палатах, отец, — предупредил Йоссариан.
‘That’s where they keep the mental cases.
— Там держат людей с психическими расстройствами.
They’re filled with lunatics.’
Там полно сумасшедших.
‘It isn’t necessary to call me Father,’ the chaplain explained.
— Можете не называть меня отцом.
‘I’m an Anabaptist.’
Я анабаптист, — пояснил капеллан.
‘I’m dead serious about those other wards,’ Yossarian continued grimly.
— Я не шучу насчет других палат, — мрачно продолжал Йоссариан.
‘M.P.s won’t protect you, because they’re craziest of all.
— Там вам не поможет и военная полиция.
Там собраны отъявленные психопаты.
I’d go with you myself, but I’m scared stiff: Insanity is contagious.
Я проводил бы вас, но сам чертовски боюсь.
К тому же безумие заразно.
This is the only sane ward in the whole hospital.
Тут во всем госпитале одни мы нормальные.
Everybody is crazy but us.
Кроме нас, все идиоты.
This is probably the only sane ward in the whole world, for that matter.’
Может быть, наша палата — единственная в мире, где лежат нормальные.
The chaplain rose quickly and edged away from Yossarian’s bed, and then nodded with a conciliating smile and promised to conduct himself with appropriate caution.
Капеллан поспешил подняться.
Отойдя от Йоссариана, он примирительно кивнул головой и пообещал вести себя с подобающей осторожностью.
‘And now I must visit with Lieutenant Dunbar,’ he said.
Still he lingered, remorsefully.
— А теперь мне надо поговорить с лейтенантом Данбэром, — сказал он, переминаясь с ноги на ногу.
‘How is Lieutenant Dunbar?’ he asked at last.
— Как поживает лейтенант Данбэр?
‘As good as they go,’ Yossarian assured him.
— Хорошо, насколько это возможно в его состоянии, — заверил его Йоссариан.
‘A true prince.
— Истинный принц!
One of the finest, least dedicated men in the whole world.’
Один из прекраснейших, хотя и наименее преданных богу людей на свете.
‘I didn’t mean that,’ the chaplain answered, whispering again.
— Я не об этом, — возразил капелла», снова переходя на шепот.
‘Is he very sick?’
— Он очень болен?
‘No, he isn’t very sick.
— Нет, он не очень болен.
In fact, he isn’t sick at all.’
Строго говоря, он вообще здоров.
‘That’s good.’
The chaplain sighed with relief.
— Это хорошо, — с облегчением вздохнул капеллан.
‘Yes,’ Yossarian said.
— Да, — согласился Йоссариан.
‘Yes, that is good.’
— Да, это хорошо…
‘A chaplain,’ Dunbar said when the chaplain had visited him and gone.
— Вот это капеллан! — сказал Данбэр, когда священник, поговорив с ним, ушел.
‘Did you see that?
— Видел ты что-нибудь подобное?
A chaplain.’
Настоящий капеллан!
‘Wasn’t he sweet?’ said Yossarian.
— Приятный человек, а?
‘Maybe they should give him three votes.’
Может быть, вот таким и будут предоставлять по три голоса на выборах?..
‘Who’s they?’
Dunbar demanded suspiciously.
In a bed in the small private section at the end of the ward, always working ceaselessly behind the green plyboard partition, was the solemn middle-aged colonel who was visited every day by a gentle, sweet-faced woman with curly ash-blond hair who was not a nurse and not a Wac and not a Red Cross girl but who nevertheless appeared faithfully at the hospital in Pianosa each afternoon wearing pretty pastel summer dresses that were very smart and white leather pumps with heels half high at the base of nylon seams that were inevitably straight.
The colonel was in Communications, and he was kept busy day and night transmitting glutinous messages from the interior into square pads of gauze which he sealed meticulously and delivered to a covered white pail that stood on the night table beside his bed.
The colonel was gorgeous.
He had a cavernous mouth, cavernous cheeks, cavernous, sad, mildewed eyes.
His face was the color of clouded silver.
He coughed quietly, gingerly, and dabbed the pads slowly at his lips with a distaste that had become automatic.
The colonel dwelt in a vortex of specialists who were still specializing in trying to determine what was troubling him.
They hurled lights in his eyes to see if he could see, rammed needles into nerves to hear if he could feel.
There was a urologist for his urine, a lymphologist for his lymph, an endocrinologist for his endocrines, a psychologist for his psyche, a dermatologist for his derma; there was a pathologist for his pathos, a cystologist for his cysts, and a bald and pedantic cetologist from the zoology department at Harvard who had been shanghaied ruthlessly into the Medical Corps by a faulty anode in an I.B.M. machine and spent his sessions with the dying colonel trying to discuss Moby Dick with him.
The colonel had really been investigated.
There was not an organ of his body that had not been drugged and derogated, dusted and dredged, fingered and photographed, removed, plundered and replaced.
Neat, slender and erect, the woman touched him often as she sat by his bedside and was the epitome of stately sorrow each time she smiled.
The colonel was tall, thin and stooped.
When he rose to walk, he bent forward even more, making a deep cavity of his body, and placed his feet down very carefully, moving ahead by inches from the knees down.
There were violet pools under his eyes.
The woman spoke softly, softer than the colonel coughed, and none of the men in the ward ever heard her voice.
— Кто это ему предоставит? — подозрительно переспросил Данбэр.
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