avva: (Default)
avva ([personal profile] avva) wrote2008-10-02 05:31 pm

мимоходом

"Слышал звон, да не знал, по кому он"

(эпитафия на могиле английского поэта)

[identity profile] nikalab.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Странно, Хемингуэй вроде был американец...

[identity profile] nice-beaver.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 03:51 pm (UTC)(link)
А Беранже - француз

[identity profile] shurz.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
это не Джон Донн с его "Не спрашивай никогда, по ком звонит Колокол: он звонит по Тебе.", взятому в качестве эпиграфа к роману одного американского писателя?

[identity profile] avva.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 03:23 pm (UTC)(link)
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

А вот так звучит лучше

(Anonymous) 2008-10-02 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the mainland.

(Anonymous) 2008-10-02 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
колокол звонит так: ДОНН! ДОНН! одного ли меня это всегда умиляло?

[identity profile] flaass.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)
В русском варианте - БОМ! БОМ!
Но тоже наводит много дум.

[identity profile] nice-beaver.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)
БИМММ -- БОМММ

[identity profile] flaass.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
в смысле, НЕТ ПРОБЛЁМММ?

потомучто

[identity profile] qaraabayna.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Заснул перед тем как узнать.

[identity profile] pirson.livejournal.com 2008-10-02 07:52 pm (UTC)(link)
!!!!!!

[identity profile] nnikif.livejournal.com 2008-10-05 08:48 am (UTC)(link)
Вообще говоря, "образ колокола" у Донна раскрыт очень мощно, и помимо известной цитаты:
We have a convenient author, who writ a discourse of bells when he was prisoner in Turkey. How would he have enlarged himself if he had been my fellow-prisoner in this sick bed, so near to that steeple which never ceases, no more than the harmony of the spheres, but is more heard. When the Turks took Constantinople, they melted the bells into ordnance; I have heard both bells and ordnance, but never been so much affected with those as with these bells. I have lain near a steeple in which there are said to be more than thirty bells, and near another, where there is one so big, as that the clapper is said to weigh more than six hundred pounds, yet never so affected as here. Here the bells can scarce solemnize the funeral of any person, but that I knew him, or knew that he was my neighbour: we dwelt in houses near to one another before, but now he is gone into that house into which I must follow him.