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Слово "torpor". Англо-русский словарь Мюллера

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  1. torpor [ˈtɔ:pə]существительное
    1. онемелость, оцепенение

      Примеры использования

      1. I know all your sisters have done for me since—for I have not been insensible during my seeming torpor—and I owe to their spontaneous, genuine, genial compassion as large a debt as to your evangelical charity.”
        Я знаю все, что ваши сестры сделали для меня, так как ни на минуту не теряла сознания во время моего кажущегося забытья, и я так же глубоко в долгу перед ними за их сердечное, искреннее и великодушное участие, как и перед вашим евангельским милосердием...
        Джейн Эйр. Шарлотта Бронте, стр. 391
      2. Only in the state of torpor and insensibility that usually comes at the end of a big funeral could it have seemed that the boy wanted to speak over his mother’s grave.
        Только в состоянии отупения и бесчувственности, обыкновенно наступающих к концу больших похорон, могло показаться, что мальчик хочет сказать слово на материнской могиле.
        Доктор Живаго. Борис Пастернак, стр. 1
      3. The feeling was not like an electric shock, but it was quite as sharp, as strange, as startling: it acted on my senses as if their utmost activity hitherto had been but torpor, from which they were now summoned and forced to wake.
        Это ощущение не напоминало электрический ток, но оно было столь же резко, необычно и неожиданно, оно так обострило мои чувства, что их прежнее напряжение казалось столбняком, от которого они теперь пробудились.
        Джейн Эйр. Шарлотта Бронте, стр. 473
    2. безразличие, апатия

      Примеры использования

      1. Sometimes, indeed, I felt a wish for happiness and thought with melancholy delight of my beloved cousin or longed, with a devouring maladie du pays, to see once more the blue lake and rapid Rhone, that had been so dear to me in early childhood; but my general state of feeling was a torpor in which a prison was as welcome a residence as the divinest scene in nature; and these fits were seldom interrupted but by paroxysms of anguish and despair.
        Иногда, правда, во мне пробуждалась жажда счастья; я с грустью и нежностью думал о своей любимой кузине или с мучительной maladie du pays хотел еще раз увидеть синее озеро и быструю Рону, которые были мне так дороги в детстве; но моим обычным состоянием была апатия; мне было все равно – находиться в тюрьме или среди прекраснейшей природы. Это настроение прерывалось лишь пароксизмами отчаяния.
        Франкенштейн, или Современный Прометей. Мэри Шелли, стр. 173
      2. We left the spires of Amsterdam behind us, and sailed over the smooth waters of the lake on our way to the Zuyder Zee. The history of this remarkable sea is a romance in itself. In the days when Rome was mistress of the world, it had no existence. Where the waves now roll, vast tracts of forest surrounded a great inland lake, with but one river to serve it as an outlet to the sea. Swelled by a succession of tempests, the lake overflowed its boundaries: its furious waters, destroying every obstacle in their course, rested only when they reached the furthest limits of the land. The Northern Ocean beyond burst its way in through the gaps of ruin; and from that time the Zuyder Zee existed as we know it now. The years advanced, the generations of man succeeded each other; and on the shores of the new ocean there rose great and populous cities, rich in commerce, renowned in history. For centuries their prosperity lasted, before the next in this mighty series of changes ripened and revealed itself. Isolated from the rest of the world, vain of themselves and their good fortune, careless of the march of progress in the nations round them, the inhabitants of the Zuyder Zee cities sunk into the fatal torpor of a secluded people. The few members of the population who still preserved the relics of their old energy emigrated, while the mass left behind resignedly witnessed the diminution of their commerce and the decay of their institutions. As the years advanced to the nineteenth century, the population was reckoned by hundreds where it had once been numbered by thousands. Trade disappeared; whole streets were left desolate. Harbors, once filled with shipping, were destroyed by the unresisted accumulation of sand. In our own times the decay of these once flourishing cities is so completely beyond remedy, that the next great change in contemplation is the draining of the now dangerous and useless tract of water, and the profitable cultivation of the reclaimed land by generations that are still to come. Such, briefly told, is the strange story of the Zuyder Zee. As we advanced on our voyage, and left the river, I noticed the tawny hue of the sea, caused by sand-banks which color the shallow water, and which make the navigation dangerous to inexperienced seamen. We found our moorings for the night at the fishing island of Marken—a low, lost, desolate-looking place, as I saw it under the last gleams of the twilight. Here and there, the gabled cottages, perched on hillocks, rose black against the dim gray sky. Here and there, a human figure appeared at the waterside, standing, fixed in contemplation of the strange boat. And that was all I saw of the island of Marken. Lying awake in the still night, alone on a strange sea, there were moments when I found myself beginning to doubt the reality of my own position. Was it all a dream? My thoughts of suicide; my vision of the mother and daughter; my journey back to the metropolis, led by the apparition of the child; my voyage to Holland; my night anchorage in the unknown sea—were these, so to speak, all pieces of the same morbid mental puzzle, all delusions from which I might wake at any moment, and find myself restored to my senses again in the hotel at London? Bewildered by doubts which led me further and further from any definite conclusion, I left my bed and went on deck to change the scene. It was a still and cloudy night. In the black void around me, the island was a blacker shadow yet, and nothing more. The one sound that reached my ears was the heavy breathing of the captain and his crew sleeping on either side of me. I waited, looking round and round the circle of darkness in which I stood. No new vision showed itself. When I returned again to the cabin, and slumbered at last, no dreams came to me. All that was mysterious, all that was marvelous, in the later events of my life seemed to have been left behind me in England. Once in Holland, my course had been influenced by circumstances which were perfectly natural, by commonplace discoveries which might have revealed themselves to any man in my position. What did this mean? Had my gifts as a seer of visions departed from me in the new land and among the strange people? Or had my destiny led me to the place at which the troubles of my mortal pilgrimage were to find their end? Who could say? Early the next morning we set sail once more. Our course was nearly northward. On one side of me was the tawny sea, changing under certain conditions of the weather to a dull pearl-gray. On the other side was the flat, winding coast, composed alternately of yellow sand and bright-green meadow-lands; diversified at intervals by towns and villages, whose red-tiled roofs and quaint church-steeples rose gayly against the clear blue sky.
        Оставили мы амстердамские шпили за спиной и поплыли по заливу Эй на пути к Зейдерзе.
        Две судьбы. Уильям Уилки Коллинз, стр. 220
    3. тупость

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