Английский язык с Дж. Р. Р. Толкиеном. Хоббит

“That can perhaps be mended, ” said the Lord of the Eagles. Later on you might have seen a bright fire on the shelf of rock and the figures of the dwarves round it cooking and making a fine roasting smell. The eagles had brought up dry boughs for fuel, and they had brought rabbits, hares, and a small sheep. The dwarves managed all the preparations. Bilbo was too weak to help, and anyway he was not much good at skinning rabbits or cutting up meat, being used to having it delivered by the butcher all ready to cook. Gandalf, too, was lying down after doing his part in setting the fire going, since Oin and Gloin had lost their tinder-boxes. (Dwarves have never taken to matches even yet.)

So ended the adventures of the Misty Mountains (так закончились приключения в Мглистых Горах). Soon Bilbo’s stomach was feeling full (вскоре желудок Бильбо был полон) and comfortable again (и снова приятно себя ощущал), and he felt he could sleep contentedly (и он почувствовал, что он может удовлетворенно уснуть), though really he would have liked a loaf and butter (хотя, на самом деле, он предпочел бы булку с маслом) better than bits of meat toasted on sticks (а не кусочки мяса, поджаренные на палочках). He slept curled up on the hard rock (он уснул, свернувшись калачиком на жесткой скале) more soundly than ever (более крепко, чем когда либо) he had done on his feather-bed (он спал на своей перинке; feather — перо) in his own little hole at home (в своей собственной маленькой норке дома). But all night (но всю ночь) he dreamed of his own house (ему снился его собственный дом) and wandered in his sleep into all his different rooms (и он бродил во сне по всем различным комнаткам) looking for something that he could not find (ища что-то, что он не мог ни найти) nor remember what it looked like (ни вспомнить, как это что-то выглядело).

loaf [lǝʋf] curl [kǝ: l] feather [ˈfeðǝ]

So ended the adventures of the Misty Mountains. Soon Bilbo’s stomach was feeling full and comfortable again, and he felt he could sleep contentedly, though really he would have liked a loaf and butter better than bits of meat toasted on sticks. He slept curled up on the hard rock more soundly than ever he had done on his feather-bed in his own little hole at home. But all night he dreamed of his own house and wandered in his sleep into all his different rooms looking for something that he could not find nor remember what it looked like.

Chapter 7. Queer Lodgings (Глава 7. Необычное пристанище)