Mario Puzo - Крестный отец, часть 1. Английский язык с Марио Пьюзо.

Michael didn't say anything. Don Corleone grunted in exasperation. "I now how you are. I won't ask you to do anything you don't approve of. This is something special. Go your own way now, you're a man after all. But come to me as a son should when you have finished with your schooling."

The family of Genco Abbandando, wife and three daughters dressed in black, clustered like a flock of plump crows (столпились, сгрудились как стая толстых, пухлых ворон; cluster – кисть, пучок, гроздь) on the white tile floor (на полу, выложенном белыми плитками; tile – плитка, кафель, изразец) of the hospital corridor. When they saw Don Corleone come out of the elevator (из лифта), they seemed to flutter up off (показалось, что вспорхнули; to flutter – махать или бить крыльями, перепархивать) the white tiles in an instinctive surge (порыве; surge – большая волна всплеск) toward him for protection (ища защиты). The mother was regally stout in black (по-королевски полной в своем черном одеянии; stout – крепкий, прочный; полный /человек/), the daughters fat and plain (толстые и некрасивые). Mrs. Abbandando pecked at Don Corleone's cheek (чмокнул: «клюнул»), sobbing (всхлипывая; to sob – рыдать, всхлипывать), wailing (причитая, стеня), "Oh, what a saint you are (какой же ты святой), to come here on your daughter's wedding day."

Don Corleone brushed these thanks aside (отмахнулся от этих выражений благодарности: «отмел»; brush – щетка). "Don't I owe respect to such a friend, a friend who has been my right arm for twenty years?" He had understood immediately that the soon-to-be widow did not comprehend (что женщина, которая вскоре станет вдовой, не понимала, не осознавала [komprı'hend]) that her husband would die this night. Genco Abbandando had been in this hospital for nearly a year dying of his cancer (умирая от рака) and the wife had come to consider his fatal illness almost an ordinary part of life (стала считать его смертельную болезнь почти обычной /составной/ частью жизни). Tonight was just another crisis. She babbled on (продолжала лепетать). "Go in and see my poor husband," she said, "he asks for you. Poor man, he wanted to come to the wedding to show his respect but the doctor would not permit it (не разрешил). Then he said you would come to see him on this great day but I did not believe it possible. Ah, men understand friendship more than we women. Go inside, you will make him happy."

A nurse (медсестра) and a doctor came out of Genco Abbandando's private room. The doctor was a young man, serious-faced and with the air of one born to command (с видом рожденного повелевать), that is to say (то есть), the air of one who has been immensely rich all his life (безмерно богат). One of the daughters asked timidly (робко; timid ['tımıd] – робкий, застенчивый), "Dr. Kennedy, can we go to see him now?"

Dr. Kennedy looked over the large group with exasperation (посмотрел на большую группу с раздражением). Didn't these people realize (разве не осознают) that the man inside was dying and dying in torturous pain (в муках: «в мучительной боли»; torture [‘to:t∫∂] – пытка, мука)? It would be much better if everyone let him die in peace. "I think just the immediate family (только близкие: «непосредственные» родственники)," be said in his exquisitely polite voice (изысканно-вежливым голосом; exquisite ['ekskwızıt] – изысканный, утонченный). He was surprised when the wife and daughters turned to the short, heavy man (к невысокому, приземистому человеку) dressed in an awkwardly fitted tuxedo (в неловко сидящий смокинг; to fit – быть впору, подходить; awkward ['o:kw∂d] – неуклюжий, неловкий), as if to hear his decision (словно для того, чтобы услышать его решение).

The heavy man spoke. There was just the slightest trace of an Italian accent in his voice (легчайший след = оттенок). "My dear doctor," said Don Corleone, "is it true he is dying?"

"Yes," said Dr. Kennedy.

"Then there is nothing more for you to do (тогда вы здесь больше ничего не можете сделать)," said Don Corleone. "We will take up the burden (мы возьмем на себя бремя). We will comfort him (утешим [‘kLmf∂t]). We will close his eyes. We will bury him (похороним; to bury [‘beri] – хоронить, зарывать в землю) and weep at his funeral (на его похоронах [fju:n∂r∂l]) and afterwards we will watch over his wife and daughters (позаботимся)." At hearing things put so bluntly (слыша такую прямолинейную постановку вопроса; blunt – тупой; грубый; прямой, резкий), forcing her to understand (которая вынуждала ее понять /что происходит/), Mrs. Abbandando began to weep.

Dr. Kennedy shrugged (пожал плечами). It was impossible to explain to these peasants (объяснять этим крестьянам ['pez∂nt]). At the same time he recognized the crude justice in the man's remarks («голую, неприкрашенную справедливость в замечаниях этого человека»; crude – необработанный, неочищенный). His role was over (его роль была окончена). Still exquisitely polite, he said, "Please wait for the nurse to let you in, she has a few necessary things to do with the patient." He walked away from them down the corridor, his white coat flapping (с развевающимся белым халатом).

The nurse went back into the room and they waited. Finally she came out again, holding the door for them to enter. She whispered, "He's delirious (находящийся в бреду [dı'lırı∂s]; dilirium [dı'lırı∂m] – бред, расстройство сознания) with the pain and fever (с температурой; fever – лихорадка), try not to excite him (пострайтесь не разволновать, перевозбудить его; to excite – возбуждать). And you can stay only a few minutes, except for the wife." She recognized Johnny Fontane as he went by her and her eyes opened wide. He gave her a faint smile of acknowledgment (слабую, вялую улыбку признания, признавания = что он заметил ее интерес) and she stared at him with frank invitation (глазела на него с откровенным вызовом: «приглашением»). He filed her away for future reference («зарегистрировал, подшил к делу» для дальнейшей справки = чтобы при случае обратиться к этому в последствии), then followed the others into the sick man's room.

The family of Genco Abbandando, wife and three daughters dressed in black, clustered like a flock of plump crows on the white tile floor of the hospital corridor. When they saw Don Corleone come out of the elevator, they seemed to flutter up off the white tiles in an instinctive surge toward him for protection. The mother was regally stout in black, the daughters fat and plain. Mrs. Abbandando pecked at Don Corleone's cheek, sobbing, wailing, "Oh, what a saint you are, to come here on your daughter's wedding day."

Don Corleone brushed these thanks aside. "Don't I owe respect to such a friend, a friend who has been my right arm for twenty years?" He had understood immediately that the soon-to-be widow did not comprehend that her husband would die this night. Genco Abbandando had been in this hospital for nearly a year dying of his cancer and the wife had come to consider his fatal illness almost an ordinary part of life. Tonight was just another crisis. She babbled on. "Go in and see my poor husband," she said, "he asks for you. Poor man, he wanted to come to the wedding to show his respect but the doctor would not permit it. Then he said you would come to see him on this great day but I did not believe it possible. Ah, men understand friendship more than we women. Go inside, you will make him happy."

A nurse and a doctor came out of Genco Abbandando's private room. The doctor was a young man, serious-faced and with the air of one born to command, that is to say, the air of one who has been immensely rich all his life. One of the daughters asked timidly, "Dr. Kennedy, can we go to see him now?"

Dr. Kennedy looked over the large group with exasperation. Didn't these people realize that the man inside was dying and dying in torturous pain? It would be much better if everyone let him die in peace. "I think just the immediate family," be said in his exquisitely polite voice. He was surprised when the wife and daughters turned to the short, heavy man dressed in an awkwardly fitted tuxedo, as if to hear his decision.

The heavy man spoke. There was just the slightest trace of an Italian accent in his voice. "My dear doctor," said Don Corleone, "is it true he is dying?"

"Yes," said Dr. Kennedy.

"Then there is nothing more for you to do," said Don Corleone. "We will take up the burden. We will comfort him. We will close his eyes. We will bury him and weep at his funeral and afterwards we will watch over his wife and daughters." At hearing things put so bluntly, forcing her to understand, Mrs. Abbandando began to weep.

Dr. Kennedy shrugged. It was impossible to explain to these peasants. At the same time he recognized the crude justice in the man's remarks. His role was over. Still exquisitely polite, he said, "Please wait for the nurse to let you in, she has a few necessary things to do with the patient." He walked away from them down the corridor, his white coat flapping.

The nurse went back into the room and they waited. Finally she came out again, holding the door for them to enter. She whispered, "He's delirious with the pain and fever, try not to excite him. And you can stay only a few minutes, except for the wife." She recognized Johnny Fontane as he went by her and her eyes opened wide. He gave her a faint smile of acknowledgment and she stared at him with frank invitation. He filed her away for future reference, then followed the others into the sick man's room.

Genco Abbandando had run a long race with death (долго состязался, бежал наперегонки со смертью; race – состязание, бег), and now, vanquished (побежденный), he lay exhausted (изможденный; to exhaust [ıg’zo:st] – исчерпывать, израсходовать /полностью/; изнурять) on the raised bed (на поднятой /в изголовье/ постели). He was wasted away to no more than a skeleton (от него остался не более как скелет; to waste – растрачивать), and what had once been vigorous black hair (густые черные волосы; vigorous [‘vıg∂r∂s] – сильный, энергичный) had turned into obscene stringy wisps (в неприличные, свисающие прядями, клочки, пучки; string – веревка, ремешок). Don Corleone said cheerily (ободряюще), "Genco, dear friend, I have brought my sons to pay their respects, and look, even Johnny, all the way from Hollywood."