"Jack London. The Sea Wolf (англ., с подстрочником) " - читать интересную книгу автора

This it was, the screaming of the women, that most tried my nerves. It
must have tried, too, the nerves of the red-faced man, for I have another
picture which will never fade from my mind. The stout gentleman is stuffing
the magazine into his overcoat pocket and looking on curiously. A tangled
mass of women, with drawn, white faces and open mouths, is shrieking like a
chorus of lost souls; and the red-faced man, his face now purplish with
wrath, and with arms extended overhead as in the act of hurling
thunderbolts, is shouting, "Shut up! Oh, shut up!"

Да, этот визг женщин больше всего действовал мне на нервы. По-видимому,
страдал от него и краснолицый, ибо еще одна картина навсегда осталась у меня
в памяти: плотный джентльмен засовывает журнал в карман пальто и с
любопытством озирается кругом; сбившиеся в кучу женщины, с бледными,
искаженными страхом лицами, пронзительно кричат, словно хор погибших душ, а
краснолицый человек, теперь уже совсем багровый от гнева, стоит в позе
громовержца, потрясая над головой кулаками, и орет: - ЗамолчитеДа замолчите
же!


I remember the scene impelled me to sudden laughter, and in the next
instant I realized I was becoming hysterical myself; for these were women of
my own kind, like my mother and sisters, with the fear of death upon them
and unwilling to die. And I remember that the sounds they made reminded me
of the squealing of pigs under the knife of the butcher, and I was struck
with horror at the vividness of the analogy. These women, capable of the
most sublime emotions, of the tenderest sympathies, were open-mouthed and
screaming. They wanted to live, they were helpless, like rats in a trap, and
they screamed.

Помню, как, глядя на это, я вдруг почувствовал, что меня душит смех, и
понял, что я впадаю в истерику; ведь предо мною были женщины, такие же, как
моя мать или сестры, - женщины, охваченные страхом смерти и не желавшие
умирать. Их крики напомнили мне визг свиней под ножом мясника, и это
потрясло меня. Эти женщины, способные на самые высокие чувства, на самую
нежную привязанность, вопили, разинув рты. Они хотели жить, но были
беспомощны, как крысы в крысоловке, и визжали, не помня себя.


The horror of it drove me out on deck. I was feeling sick and
squeamish, and sat down on a bench. In a hazy way I saw and heard men
rushing and shouting as they strove to lower the boats. It was just as I had
read descriptions of such scenes in books. The tackles jammed. Nothing
worked. One boat lowered away with the plugs out, filled with women and
children and then with water, and capsized. Another boat had been lowered by
one end, and still hung in the tackle by the other end, where it had been
abandoned. Nothing was to be seen of the strange steamboat which had caused
the disaster, though I heard men saying that she would undoubtedly send
boats to our assistance.