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The Fall Of The House Of Usher: Bilingual Edition (English – Russian)
The Fall Of The House Of Usher: Bilingual Edition (English – Russian)
The Fall Of The House Of Usher: Bilingual Edition (English – Russian)
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The Fall Of The House Of Usher: Bilingual Edition (English – Russian)

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Instead of memorizing vocabulary words, work your way through an actual well-written novel. Even novices can follow along as each individual English paragraph is paired with the corresponding Russian paragraph. It won't be an easy project, but you'll learn a lot.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherPublishdrive
Release dateJul 18, 2018
The Fall Of The House Of Usher: Bilingual Edition (English – Russian)
Author

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe (1809–49) reigned unrivaled in his mastery of mystery during his lifetime and is now widely held to be a central figure of Romanticism and gothic horror in American literature. Born in Boston, he was orphaned at age three, was expelled from West Point for gambling, and later became a well-regarded literary critic and editor. The Raven, published in 1845, made Poe famous. He died in 1849 under what remain mysterious circumstances and is buried in Baltimore, Maryland.

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    The Fall Of The House Of Usher - Edgar Allan Poe

    THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER

    ГИБЕЛЬ ЭШЕРОВА ДОМА

    Bilingual Edition

    English - Russian

    Edgar Allan Poe

    translated by

    Mihail Engelgardt

    THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER

    ГИБЕЛЬ ЭШЕРОВА ДОМА

    Son cœur est un luth suspendu;

    Sitôt qu’on le touche il résonne.

    De Béranger.

    Son coeur est un luth suspendu,

    Sitôt qu’on le touche il résonne

    De Béranger.

    During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was—but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit.

    Целый день — хмурый, темный, безмолвный осенний день — под низко нависшими свинцовыми тучами — я ехал верхом по замечательно пустынной местности и, наконец, когда вечерние тени ложились на землю, очутился перед унылой усадьбой Эшера. Не знаю почему, но при первом взгляде на усадьбу невыносимая тоска закралась мне в душу.

    I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene before me—upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows—upon a few rank sedges—and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees—with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveler upon opium—the bitter lapse into every-day life—the hideous dropping off of the veil.

    Я говорю невыносимая, потому что она не смягчалась тем грустным, но поэтическим чувством, которое вызывают в душе человеческой даже безотрадные и мрачные картины природы. Я смотрел на запущенную усадьбу, на одинокий дом, на мрачные стены, на пустые орбиты выбитых окон, на чахлую осоку, на белые стволы дряхлых деревьев, смотрел с гнетущим чувством, которое могу сравнить только с пробуждением курильщика опиума, с горьким возвращением к обыденной жизни, когда завеса падает с глаз и гнусная действительность обнажается во всем своем безобразии.

    There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart—an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime.

    То была леденящая, ноющая, сосущая боль сердца, безотрадная пустота в мыслях, полное бессилие воображения настроить душу на более возвышенный лад.

    What was it—I paused to think—what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth.

    Что же именно, — подумал я, — что именно так удручает меня в «Эшеровом доме»? Я не мог разрешит этой тайны; не мог разобраться в тумане смутных впечатлений. Пришлись удовольствоваться ничего не объясняющим заключением, что известные комбинации весьма естественных предметов могут влиять на нас таким образом, но анализировать это влияние — задача непосильная для нашего ума.

    It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient

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