Английский с Джеком Лондоном. Золотой каньон. Рассказы / Jack London. All Gold Canyon. Stories

 There was no dust in the canyon. The leaves and flowers were clean and virginal. The grass was young velvet. Over the pool three cottonwoods sent their snowy fluffs fluttering down the quiet air. On the slope the blossoms of the wine-wooded manzanita filled the air with springtime odors, while the leaves, wise with experience, were already beginning their vertical twist against the coming aridity of summer. In the open spaces on the slope, beyond the farthest shadow-reach of the manzanita, poised the mariposa lilies, like so many flights of jewelled moths suddenly arrested and on the verge of trembling into flight again. Here and there that woods harlequin, the madrone, permitting itself to be caught in the act of changing its pea-green trunk to madder-red, breathed its fragrance into the air from great clusters of waxen bells. Creamy white were these bells, shaped like lilies-of-the-valley, with the sweetness of perfume that is of the springtime.

There was not a sigh of wind (не было и вздоха ветра). The air was drowsy with its weight of perfume (воздух был дремотным, с тяжестью аромата; weight – вес). It was a sweetness that would have been cloying (это была сладость, которая была бы пересыщающей; to cloy – пересыщать) had the air been heavy and humid (будь воздух тяжел и влажен). But the air was sharp and thin (но воздух был прозрачен и сух; sharp – резкий, отчетливый; thin air – разреженный воздух). It was as starlight transmuted into atmosphere (он был словно свет звезд, преобразованный в атмосферу; to transmute – превращаться, преобразовываться), shot through and warmed by sunshine (пронизанный и согретый солнечным светом), and flower-drenched with sweetness (и наполненный сладостью цветов; to drench – смачивать; изобиловать чем-либо).

 There was not a sigh of wind. The air was drowsy with its weight of perfume. It was a sweetness that would have been cloying had the air been heavy and humid. But the air was sharp and thin. It was as starlight transmuted into atmosphere, shot through and warmed by sunshine, and flower-drenched with sweetness.

An occasional butterfly drifted in and out through the patches of light and shade (случайная бабочка порхала сквозь кусочки света и тени; to drift – смещаться, сдвигаться). And from all about rose the low and sleepy hum of mountain bees (и отовсюду поднималось низкое и сонное жужжание горных пчел) – feasting Sybarites that jostled one another good-naturedly at the board (пирующих сибаритов, которые добродушно теснили друг друга за столом; board – обеденный, накрытый стол), nor found time for rough discourtesy (и не находили время для грубой неучтивости; discourtesy – грубость, неучтивость). So quietly did the little stream drip and ripple its way through the canyon (так тихо струился и протекал маленький ручеек через каньон; to ripple – покрывать рябью; струиться, течь /небольшими волнами/; to drip – капать, падать каплями) that it spoke only in faint and occasional gurgles (что говорил только слабым и редким журчанием; gurgle – журчание, бульканье). The voice of the stream was as a drowsy whisper (голос ручья был словно сонный шепот), ever interrupted by dozings and silences (то прерываемый дремотой и тишиной), ever lifted again in the awakenings (то поднимающийся снова в пробуждении).

 An occasional butterfly drifted in and out through the patches of light and shade. And from all about rose the low and sleepy hum of mountain bees – feasting Sybarites that jostled one another good-naturedly at the board, nor found time for rough discourtesy. So quietly did the little stream drip and ripple its way through the canyon that it spoke only in faint and occasional gurgles. The voice of the stream was as a drowsy whisper, ever interrupted by dozings and silences, ever lifted again in the awakenings.