. , , , , , , , - . - , , , 1.
, , , - , .
, . - , , . -, , .
, . , . . .
, , , . , .
XX . . . , : ( , ) , , ( ).
, , : , , .. .
, , . . . 1. , , , , , .
|
|
. . , : 1) 2) , .. , .. .
: I) , ( , , , , ); 2) , ( , ..)2. , . . , , . , , - , - .
1.
.
, .
.. , :
The girl who is going to fall in love knows all about it beforehand from books and the movies... she knows exactly how she feels when her lover or husband betrays her or when she betrays him; she knows precisely what it is to be a forsaken wife, an adoring mother, an erratic grandmother. All at the age of eighteen.
, : who, how, when,, what, , : All at the age of eighteen, .
, . . : It is full of dirty blank spaces, high black walls, a gas holder, a tall chimney, a main road that shakes with dust and lorries (J.Osborne. Entertainer).
, , . , , , : It is full of dirty blank spaces and high black walls, and a gas holder, and a tall chimney, and a main road that shakes with dust and lorries.
|
|
, : It is full of dirty blank spaces, high black wails, a gas holder, a tall chimney and a main road that shakes with dust and lorries.
. - , , , . , , , . , , .. .
, , . You, Andrew Marvell. and, , . XVII (16211678). , ( Andrew Marvell), . , , , , . :
YOU, ANDREW MARVELL
And here face down beneath the sun
And here upon earth's noonward height
To feel the always coming on
The always rising of the night
To feel creep up the curving cast
The earthly chill of dusk and slow
Upon those under lands the vast
And ever-climbing shadows grow
And strange at Ecbatan the trees
Take leaf by leaf the evening strange
The flooding dark about their knees
The mountains of Persia change
And now at Kermanshah the gate
Dark empty and the withered grass
And through the twilight now the late
Few travellers in the westward pass
And Baghdad darken and the bridge
Across the silent river gone
And through Arabia the edge
Of evening widen and steal on
And deepen on Palmyra street
The wheel rut in the ruined stone
And Lebanon fade out and Crete
High through the clouds and overblown
And over Sicily the air
Still flashing with the landward gulls
And loom and slowly disappear
The sails above the shadowy hulls
And Spain go under and the shore
Of Africa the guilded sand
And evening vanish and no more
The low pale light across the land
Nor now the long light on the sea
And here face downward in the sun
To feel how swift how secretly
The shadow of the night comes on...
, , and, . , , . , and. , , . - , and. , , , , . to feel , , :
|
|
to feel the... coming... the... rising of the night to feel creep up... and... grow and... take... change and... dark empty... and... pass and... darken and... gone and... widen and steal on and deepen... and... fade out and... high... overblown and... flashing... and loom and... disappear... and... go under and... and... vanish and no more... and here... to feel how... the shadow of the night comes on.
, , . : shadow, night, dusk, evening, dark ..
. : ( ), , ( ), ( ), , (), , , , . , .. . , , . , , , .
, . . His Coy Mistress , , .
Had we but world enough and time
This coyness, lady, were no crime...
But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
. , , , , , , .
and , , , , , , , .
1, , , , , , , .. , . , , , , : Beat! beat! drums! blow! bugles! blow! (W. Whitman).
- , : Tyger, tyger, burning bright (W. Blake) . , , , , , - , .
|
|
. 2 , , .
, , , , , , , .
, 3. , , , .
. XVIII . , . , .. :
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
.
1) .
2) , V, long lives... life.
3) so Song... so long; , .
4) ( ); live life.
5) men can breathe eyes can see .
6) :...lives this and this gives... . , ( ), , , .
7) , , , this... this . , , , , . , , .
8) ...men can breathe = eyes can see, .. .
, .. , breathe live. LXI (. . 104).
, . . , , , .. , , (. tired with all these LXVI , . 50). , LXVI , .
, , - . , , . :
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
. , , be, , , .
. . , , , .
Should you ask me, whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odours of the forest,
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
|
|
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations,
As of thunder in the mountains?
I should answer, I should tell you,
From the forests and the prairies,
From the great lakes of the Northland,
From the land of the Ojibways,
From the land of the Dakotas,
From the mountains, moors and fenlands,
Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Feeds among the reeds and rushes.
I repeat them as I heard them
From the lips of Nawadaha,
The musician the sweet singer.
Should you ask where Nawadaha
Found these songs, so wild and wayward,
Found these legends and traditions,
I should answer, I should tell you,
In the bird-nests of the forest,
In the lodges of the beaver,
In the hoof prints of the bison,
In the eyrie of the eagle!
, , - , - . , . , (frequent repetitions) . . (reverberations / As of thunder in the mountains).
. , . with, from in . , , , .. , .
(stories legends, moors fenlands), . , .
. . song , , , : stories, legends and traditions. . , , , with. whence. , .. , from. : the forests and the prairies... from the mountains, moors and fenlands.
, , . . .. . . ? , , :
Down with the English anyhow. That's certain. Clear out, you fellows, double quick, I say. We may hate one another, but we hate you most. If I don't make you go, Ahmed will, Karim will, if it's fifty five hundred years we shall get rid of you, yes, we shall drive every blasted Englishman into the sea, and then he rode against him furiously and then, he concluded, half kissing him, you and 1 shall be friends.
Why can't we be friends now? said the other, holding him affectionately. It's what I want. It's what you want.
But the horses didn't want it they swerved apart; the earth didn't want it, sending up rocks through which riders must pass single file;
the temples, the tanks, the jail, the palace, the birds, the carrion, the Guest House, that came into view as they issued from the gap and saw Man beneath: they didn't want it, they said in their hundred voices, No, not yet, and the sky said No, not there.
(E.M. Forster. A Passage to India)
. , . , , .
, , - , .
: hate... hate, will... will, then... then Down with the English... clear out... make you go... get rid of you... drive every blasted Englishman into the sea.
want; , , , , . , want . : , , want . , .
, . : Do you remember our mosque, Mrs Moore? I do. I do, she said suddenly vital and young.
: Why don't you shut your great big old gob, you poor bloody old fool! (J. Osborne. Entertainer).
, - . - , , .
. , : His Noontide Peace, a study of two dun cows under a walnut tree, was followed by A Midday Sanctuary, a study of a walnut tree with two dun cows under it.
, . , , . . , , .
, , , . , , , , .