Page:Татю (Т. А. Раптанов, 1933).djvu/37: Difference between revisions
and wished to live as he lived. It is all one spectacle of forces running to waste, of people who use and do not replace, the story of a country hectic with a wasting aimless fever of trade and money-making and pleasure-seeking. And now I build destroyers! Other people may see this country in other terms; this is how I have seen it. In some early chapter in this heap I compared all our present colour and abundance to October foliage before the frosts nip down the leaves. That I still feel was a |
|||
| Header (noinclude): | Header (noinclude): | ||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
and wished to live as he lived. It is all one spectacle of forces running to waste, of people who use and do not replace, the story of a country hectic with a wasting aimless fever of trade and money-making and pleasure-seeking. And now I build destroyers! |
|||
Other people may see this country in other terms; this is how I have seen it. In some early chapter in this heap I compared all our present colour and abundance to October foliage before the frosts nip down the leaves. That I still feel was a good image. Perhaps I see wrongly. It may be I see decay all about me because I am, in a sense, decay. To others it may be a scene of achievement and construction radiant with hope. I too have a sort of hope, but it is a remote hope, a hope that finds no promise in this Empire or in any of the great things of our time. How they will look in history I do not know, how time and chance will prove them I cannot guess; that is how they have mirrored themselves on one contemporary mind. |
|||
{{c|{{sp|§2|.5em}}}} |
|||
Concurrently with writing the last chapter of this book I have been much engaged by the affairs of a new destroyer we have completed. It has been an oddly complementary alternation of occupations. Three weeks or so ago this novel had to be put aside in order that I might give all my time day and night to the fitting and finishing of the engines. Last Thursday {{sp|X|.3em}}2, for so we call her, was done, and I took her down the Thames and went out nearly to Texel for a trial of speed. |
|||
It is curious how at times one's impressions will all fuse and run together into a sort of unity and becom |
|||
| Page body (to be transcluded): | Page body (to be transcluded): | ||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
and wished to live as he lived. It is all one spectacle of forces running to waste, of people who use and do not replace, the story of a country hectic with a wasting aimless fever of trade and money-making and pleasure-seeking. And now I build destroyers! |
|||
Other people may see this country in other terms; this is how I have seen it. In some early chapter in this heap I compared all our present colour and abundance to October foliage before the frosts nip down the leaves. That I still feel was a good image. Perhaps I see wrongly. It may be I see decay all about me because I am, in a sense, decay. To others it may be a scene of achievement and construction radiant with hope. I too have a sort of hope, but it is a remote hope, a hope that finds no promise in this Empire or in any of the great things of our time. How they will look in history I do not know, how time and chance will prove them I cannot guess; that is how they have mirrored themselves on one contemporary mind. |
|||
{{c|{{sp|§2|.5em}}}} |
|||
Concurrently with writing the last chapter of this book I have been much engaged by the affairs of a new destroyer we have completed. It has been an oddly complementary alternation of occupations. Three weeks or so ago this novel had to be put aside in order that I might give all my time day and night to the fitting and finishing of the engines. Last Thursday {{sp|X|.3em}}2, for so we call her, was done, and I took her down the Thames and went out nearly to Texel for a trial of speed. |
|||
It is curious how at times one's impressions will all fuse and run together into a sort of unity and becom |
|||
{{Hyphenated word end|нянзо|соннянзо}} уле мезде кортамс Татю марто. Ведь сон подпольной организациясто сайсь обезательства, кодаяк ды Татюнь кортамс тов. Превензэ чопавсть чопода потмаксос. „Бутем амоли ды евты атявтонстэй“ — кармась думамо Андрей. |
{{Hyphenated word end|нянзо|соннянзо}} уле мезде кортамс Татю марто. Ведь сон подпольной организациясто сайсь обезательства, кодаяк ды Татюнь кортамс тов. Превензэ чопавсть чопода потмаксос. „Бутем амоли ды евты атявтонстэй“ — кармась думамо Андрей. |
||
Revision as of 15:12, 26 September 2019
and wished to live as he lived. It is all one spectacle of forces running to waste, of people who use and do not replace, the story of a country hectic with a wasting aimless fever of trade and money-making and pleasure-seeking. And now I build destroyers!
Other people may see this country in other terms; this is how I have seen it. In some early chapter in this heap I compared all our present colour and abundance to October foliage before the frosts nip down the leaves. That I still feel was a good image. Perhaps I see wrongly. It may be I see decay all about me because I am, in a sense, decay. To others it may be a scene of achievement and construction radiant with hope. I too have a sort of hope, but it is a remote hope, a hope that finds no promise in this Empire or in any of the great things of our time. How they will look in history I do not know, how time and chance will prove them I cannot guess; that is how they have mirrored themselves on one contemporary mind.
§2
Concurrently with writing the last chapter of this book I have been much engaged by the affairs of a new destroyer we have completed. It has been an oddly complementary alternation of occupations. Three weeks or so ago this novel had to be put aside in order that I might give all my time day and night to the fitting and finishing of the engines. Last Thursday X2, for so we call her, was done, and I took her down the Thames and went out nearly to Texel for a trial of speed.
It is curious how at times one's impressions will all fuse and run together into a sort of unity and becom
and wished to live as he lived. It is all one spectacle of forces running to waste, of people who use and do not replace, the story of a country hectic with a wasting aimless fever of trade and money-making and pleasure-seeking. And now I build destroyers!
Other people may see this country in other terms; this is how I have seen it. In some early chapter in this heap I compared all our present colour and abundance to October foliage before the frosts nip down the leaves. That I still feel was a good image. Perhaps I see wrongly. It may be I see decay all about me because I am, in a sense, decay. To others it may be a scene of achievement and construction radiant with hope. I too have a sort of hope, but it is a remote hope, a hope that finds no promise in this Empire or in any of the great things of our time. How they will look in history I do not know, how time and chance will prove them I cannot guess; that is how they have mirrored themselves on one contemporary mind.
§2
Concurrently with writing the last chapter of this book I have been much engaged by the affairs of a new destroyer we have completed. It has been an oddly complementary alternation of occupations. Three weeks or so ago this novel had to be put aside in order that I might give all my time day and night to the fitting and finishing of the engines. Last Thursday X2, for so we call her, was done, and I took her down the Thames and went out nearly to Texel for a trial of speed.
It is curious how at times one's impressions will all fuse and run together into a sort of unity and becom
нянзо уле мезде кортамс Татю марто. Ведь сон подпольной организациясто сайсь обезательства, кодаяк ды Татюнь кортамс тов. Превензэ чопавсть чопода потмаксос. „Бутем амоли ды евты атявтонстэй“ — кармась думамо Андрей.
Татю аштесь истяжо ковгак эзь черька ды местькак эзь корта. Вармась лыйкае новолевть кудряв черензэ.
— Татю, — пшкаць Андрей. — Мольдян чокшне больниця латков а?
— Тон месть? — Сонсь чаравсь прясонсо.
— Татю простямак. Мон можо а истя молинь тонь сознанияс. Мон местькак берять а арсян. Ламо кортамот эрявить мартот кортамс.
Тонсь думик. минек лангс кода ваныть велесэнть. Мон уш а карман кортамо эсинь эйстэ. Вана тонсь, нярошка неить нужа чи, ютавтат стака пинге. Чави эйсэть мирьдеть, чави атявтот, чави ававтот чави эйсэть се кие ансяк а нузялды...
— Андрей, корьминецькем, иляк калавт седеем. Мон ламоксть алтния прям сюпавтненень кежень пандомс. Монь седейсэ течемс прок салмукс пезнавтозь тетянь маштома чись, монь седейсэ, колиякс ашти пезнавтозь силой мирьденень максомась. Истяжо а евтавитькак кода сэредить неть чавоматне. Мон валом аполавса! Куломозон кежень пандтлесэнь!..
Татю аварьдезевсь. Каргодсь панар ожасонзо нардыньзе сельведензэ.
— Паньдя, Татю. Ансяк листь чокшне.
— А сода кода седе... вадря
— Листь!
— Пелян мезеяк илязо теев.
— Кемемак, Татю, што монь ламо валон кортамс тонеть. Тесэ, ульця куншкасо минек кортамонтень а тарка. Велесэ ломатне пек чоподат, мезе араськак сеньгак полалесызь.
— Ну эно молян. — Сонсь мазыйстэ варштась Андреень шачонтень.
— Прощай, — Андрей максызе кедензэ. Татюнь пси