Английские волшебные сказки / English Fairy Tales

Well, Jack was not content, and it wasn’t long before he determined to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning, he rose up early, and got to the beanstalk, and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed till he got to the top. But this time he knew better than to go straight to the ogre’s house. And when he got near it, he waited behind a bush till he saw the ogre’s wife come out with a pail to get some water, and then he crept into the house and got into the copper. He hadn’t been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before, and in came the ogre and his wife.

‘Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman (я чую кровь англичанина),’ cried out the ogre (воскликнул людоед). ‘I smell him, wife, I smell him (я чую его, жена, я чую его).’

‘Do you (в самом деле чуешь), my dearie (мой дорогой)?’ says the ogre’s wife (говорит жена людоеда). ‘Then, if it’s that little rogue that stole your gold (тогда, если это тот маленький плут, который украл твое золото) and the hen that laid the golden eggs (и курицу, которая несла золотые яйца) he’s sure to have got into the oven (он наверняка забрался в печь).’ And they both rushed to the oven (и они оба бросились к печи). But Jack wasn’t there, luckily (но Джек не был там, к счастью), and the ogre’s wife said (и жена людоеда сказала): ‘There you are again with your fee-fi-fo-fum (ну вот ты опять с твоим «фи-фай-фо-фам»). Why (как же: «почему»), of course (конечно), it’s the boy you caught last night (это тот мальчик, которого ты поймал прошлой: «последней» ночью) that I’ve just broiled for your breakfast (которого я только что изжарила для твоего завтрака). How forgetful I am (какая я забывчивая), and how careless you are (и какой ты беспечный) not to know the difference (не знать разницу) between live and dead (между живым и мертвым) after all these years (после всех этих лет = после стольких лет).’

blood

[bld], rogue [r], careless [‘kels]

‘Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,’ cried out the ogre. ‘I smell him, wife, I smell him.’

‘Do you, my dearie?’ says the ogre’s wife. ‘Then, if it’s that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he’s sure to have got into the oven.’ And they both rushed to the oven. But Jack wasn’t there, luckily, and the ogre’ s wife said: ‘There you are again with your fee-fi-fo-fum. Why, of course, it’s the boy you caught last night that I’ve just broiled for your breakfast. How forgetful I am, and how careless you are not to know the difference between live and dead after all these years.’