Английский язык с Э. Хемингуэем. Снега Килиманджар

He had been contemptuous of those who wrecked (он презирал тех, кто сгибается /под ударами жизни/; contemptuous — презрительный; пренебрежительный; contempt — презрение). You did not have to like it because you understood it (ему не должно было это нравиться, потому что он понимал это). He could beat anything, he thought (он сможет справиться с чем угодно, думал он; to beat — бить, колотить; побеждать; превосходить), because no thing could hurt him if he did not care (потому что ничто не сможет причинить ему боль, если он не придает /этому/ значения; to care — беспокоиться, волноваться; проявлять интерес).

All right. Now he would not care for death (хорошо = значит

, сейчас он не станет придавать значения смерти). One thing he had always dreaded was the pain (единственное, чего он всегда боялся, — это боли). He could stand pain as well as any man (он мог выносить боль как мужчина: «так же хорошо, как = не хуже, чем какой угодно мужчина»), until it went on too long (пока = если только она не продолжалась слишком долго), and wore him out (и /не/ изматывала его; to wear out — изнашивать; изнурять, изматывать), but here he had something that had hurt frightfully (но здесь = в этот раз

мучения были ужасны: «у него было то, что болело ужасно») and just when he had felt it breaking him, the pain had stopped (и когда он уже чувствовал, что это = боль его сломит/победит, она прекратилась).

repetitious ["repI'tISqs], glamorous ['glxmqrqs], wreck [rek], contemptuous [kqn'tempCVqs], dread [dred]

"You tell them why," he said.

"Why what, dear?"

"Why nothing."

She didn't drink so much, now, since she had him. But if he lived he would never write about her, he knew that now. Nor about any of them. The rich were dull and they drank too much, or they played too much backgammon. They were dull and they were repetitious. He remembered poor Julian and his romantic awe of them and how he had started a story once that began, "The very rich are different from you and me." And how some one had said to Julian, Yes, they have more money. But that was not humorous to Julian. He thought they were a special glamorous race and when he found they weren't it wrecked him just as much as any other thing that wrecked him.

He had been contemptuous of those who wrecked. You did not have to like it because you understood it. He could beat anything, he thought, because no thing could hurt him if he did not care.

All right. Now he would not care for death. One thing he had always dreaded was the pain. He could stand pain as well as any man, until it went on too long, and wore him out, but here he had something that had hurt frightfully and just when he had felt it breaking him, the pain had stopped.