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Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, Part 3. Chapter 31.

Part 3. Chapter 31.

Running halfway down the staircase, Levin caught a sound he knew, a familiar cough in the hall. But he heard it indistinctly through the sound of his own footsteps, and hoped he was mistaken. Then he caught sight of a long, bony, familiar figure, and now it seemed there was no possibility of mistake; and yet he still went on hoping that this tall man taking off his fur cloak and coughing was not his brother Nikolay.

Levin loved his brother, but being with him was always a torture. Just now, when Levin, under the influence of the thoughts that had come to him, and Agafea Mihalovna's hint, was in a troubled and uncertain humor, the meeting with his brother that he had to face seemed particularly difficult. Instead of a lively, healthy visitor, some outsider who would, he hoped, cheer him up in his uncertain humor, he had to see his brother, who knew him through and through, who would call forth all the thoughts nearest his heart, would force him to show himself fully. And that he was not disposed to do.

Angry with himself for so base a feeling, Levin ran into the hall; as soon as he had seen his brother close, this feeling of selfish disappointment vanished instantly and was replaced by pity. Terrible as his brother Nikolay had been before in his emaciation and sickliness, now he looked still more emaciated, still more wasted. He was a skeleton covered with skin.

He stood in the hall, jerking his long thin neck, and pulling the scarf off it, and smiled a strange and pitiful smile. When he saw that smile, submissive and humble, Levin felt something clutching at his throat.

"You see, I've come to you," said Nikolay in a thick voice, never for one second taking his eyes off his brother's face. "I've been meaning to a long while, but I've been unwell all the time. Now I'm ever so much better," he said, rubbing his beard with his big thin hands. "Yes, yes!" answered Levin. And he felt still more frightened when, kissing him, he felt with his lips the dryness of his brother's skin and saw close to him his big eyes, full of a strange light. A few weeks before, Konstantin Levin had written to his brother that through the sale of the small part of the property, that had remained undivided, there was a sum of about two thousand roubles to come to him as his share.

Nikolay said that he had come now to take this money and, what was more important, to stay a while in the old nest, to get in touch with the earth, so as to renew his strength like the heroes of old for the work that lay before him. In spite of his exaggerated stoop, and the emaciation that was so striking from his height, his movements were as rapid and abrupt as ever. Levin led him into his study.

His brother dressed with particular care—a thing he never used to do—combed his scanty, lank hair, and, smiling, went upstairs.

He was in the most affectionate and good-humored mood, just as Levin often remembered him in childhood. He even referred to Sergey Ivanovitch without rancor. When he saw Agafea Mihalovna, he made jokes with her and asked after the old servants. The news of the death of Parfen Denisitch made a painful impression on him. A look of fear crossed his face, but he regained his serenity immediately.

"Of course he was quite old," he said, and changed the subject. "Well, I'll spend a month or two with you, and then I'm off to Moscow. Do you know, Myakov has promised me a place there, and I'm going into the service. Now I'm going to arrange my life quite differently," he went on. "You know I got rid of that woman." "Marya Nikolaevna? Why, what for?" "Oh, she was a horrid woman! She caused me all sorts of worries." But he did not say what the annoyances were. He could not say that he had cast off Marya Nikolaevna because the tea was weak, and, above all, because she would look after him, as though he were an invalid.

"Besides, I want to turn over a new leaf completely now. I've done silly things, of course, like everyone else, but money's the last consideration; I don't regret it. So long as there's health, and my health, thank God, is quite restored." Levin listened and racked his brains, but could think of nothing to say. Nikolay probably felt the same; he began questioning his brother about his affairs; and Levin was glad to talk about himself, because then he could speak without hypocrisy. He told his brother of his plans and his doings.

His brother listened, but evidently he was not interested by it.

These two men were so akin, so near each other, that the slightest gesture, the tone of voice, told both more than could be said in words.

Both of them now had only one thought—the illness of Nikolay and the nearness of his death—which stifled all else. But neither of them dared to speak of it, and so whatever they said— not uttering the one thought that filled their minds—was all falsehood. Never had Levin been so glad when the evening was over and it was time to go to bed. Never with any outside person, never on any official visit had he been so unnatural and false as he was that evening. And the consciousness of this unnaturalness, and the remorse he felt at it, made him even more unnatural. He wanted to weep over his dying, dearly loved brother, and he had to listen and keep on talking of how he meant to live.

As the house was damp, and only one bedroom had been kept heated, Levin put his brother to sleep in his own bedroom behind a screen.

His brother got into bed, and whether he slept or did not sleep, tossed about like a sick man, coughed, and when he could not get his throat clear, mumbled something. Sometimes when his breathing was painful, he said, "Oh, my God!" Sometimes when he was choking he muttered angrily, "Ah, the devil!" Levin could not sleep for a long while, hearing him. His thoughts were of the most various, but the end of all his thoughts was the same— death. Death, the inevitable end of all, for the first time presented itself to him with irresistible force. And death, which was here in this loved brother, groaning half asleep and from habit calling without distinction on God and the devil, was not so remote as it had hitherto seemed to him. It was in himself too, he felt that. If not today, tomorrow, if not tomorrow, in thirty years, wasn't it all the same! And what was this inevitable death—he did not know, had never thought about it, and what was more, had not the power, had not the courage to think about it.

"I work, I want to do something, but I had forgotten it must all end; I had forgotten—death." He sat on his bed in the darkness, crouched up, hugging his knees, and holding his breath from the strain of thought, he pondered. But the more intensely he thought, the clearer it became to him that it was indubitably so, that in reality, looking upon life, he had forgotten one little fact—that death will come, and all ends; that nothing was even worth beginning, and that there was no helping it anyway. Yes, it was awful, but it was so.

"But I am alive still. Now what's to be done? what's to be done?" he said in despair. He lighted a candle, got up cautiously and went to the looking-glass, and began looking at his face and hair. Yes, there were gray hairs about his temples. He opened his mouth. His back teeth were beginning to decay. He bared his muscular arms. Yes, there was strength in them. But Nikolay, who lay there breathing with what was left of lungs, had had a strong, healthy body too. And suddenly he recalled how they used to go to bed together as children, and how they only waited till Fyodor Bogdanitch was out of the room to fling pillows at each other and laugh, laugh irrepressibly, so that even their awe of Fyodor Bogdanitch could not check the effervescing, overbrimming sense of life and happiness. "And now that bent, hollow chest…and I, not knowing what will become of me, or wherefore…" "K…ha! K…ha! Damnation! Why do you keep fidgeting, why don't you go to sleep?" his brother's voice called to him. "Oh, I don't know, I'm not sleepy." "I have had a good sleep, I'm not in a sweat now. Just see, feel my shirt; it's not wet, is it?" Levin felt, withdrew behind the screen, and put out the candle, but for a long while he could not sleep. The question how to live had hardly begun to grow a little clearer to him, when a new, insoluble question presented itself—death.

"Why, he's dying—yes, he'll die in the spring, and how help him? What can I say to him? What do I know about it? I'd even forgotten that it was at all."

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Part 3. Chapter 31. Parte 3. Capítulo 31.

Running halfway down the staircase, Levin caught a sound he knew, a familiar cough in the hall. Courant à mi-chemin dans l'escalier, Levin capta un son qu'il connaissait, une toux familière dans le couloir. But he heard it indistinctly through the sound of his own footsteps, and hoped he was mistaken. Then he caught sight of a long, bony, familiar figure, and now it seemed there was no possibility of mistake; and yet he still went on hoping that this tall man taking off his fur cloak and coughing was not his brother Nikolay. Tada jis pastebėjo ilgą, kaulėtą, pažįstamą figūrą, o dabar atrodė, kad nėra galimybės suklysti; ir vis tiek jis vis dar tikėjosi, kad šis aukštaūgis, nusimetęs kailinį apsiaustą ir kosintis, nėra jo brolis Nikolajus.

Levin loved his brother, but being with him was always a torture. Just now, when Levin, under the influence of the thoughts that had come to him, and Agafea Mihalovna's hint, was in a troubled and uncertain humor, the meeting with his brother that he had to face seemed particularly difficult. Instead of a lively, healthy visitor, some outsider who would, he hoped, cheer him up in his uncertain humor, he had to see his brother, who knew him through and through, who would call forth all the thoughts nearest his heart, would force him to show himself fully. Au lieu d'un visiteur vivant et en bonne santé, un étranger qui, espérait-il, lui remonterait le moral dans son humour incertain, il devait voir son frère, qui le connaissait de bout en bout, qui ferait émerger toutes les pensées les plus proches de son cœur, le forcer à se montrer pleinement. Vietoj gyvo, sveiko lankytojo, kažkoks pašalinis asmuo, kuris, tikėjosi, nudžiugins jį savo neaiškiu humoru, turėjo pamatyti savo brolį, kuris pažinojo jį per amžius ir iškviesdavo visas širdžiai artimiausias mintis. priversti jį visiškai parodyti save. And that he was not disposed to do.

Angry with himself for so base a feeling, Levin ran into the hall; as soon as he had seen his brother close, this feeling of selfish disappointment vanished instantly and was replaced by pity. Terrible as his brother Nikolay had been before in his emaciation and sickliness, now he looked still more emaciated, still more wasted. Terrible que son frère Nikolay avait été auparavant dans son émaciation et sa maladie, il avait maintenant l'air encore plus émacié, encore plus décharné. He was a skeleton covered with skin.

He stood in the hall, jerking his long thin neck, and pulling the scarf off it, and smiled a strange and pitiful smile. |||||sallayarak||||||||atkı||||||||| When he saw that smile, submissive and humble, Levin felt something clutching at his throat.

"You see, I've come to you," said Nikolay in a thick voice, never for one second taking his eyes off his brother's face. "I've been meaning to a long while, but I've been unwell all the time. Now I'm ever so much better," he said, rubbing his beard with his big thin hands. Maintenant je vais beaucoup mieux, »dit-il en se frottant la barbe avec ses grandes mains fines. "Yes, yes!" answered Levin. And he felt still more frightened when, kissing him, he felt with his lips the dryness of his brother's skin and saw close to him his big eyes, full of a strange light. A few weeks before, Konstantin Levin had written to his brother that through the sale of the small part of the property, that had remained undivided, there was a sum of about two thousand roubles to come to him as his share.

Nikolay said that he had come now to take this money and, what was more important, to stay a while in the old nest, to get in touch with the earth, so as to renew his strength like the heroes of old for the work that lay before him. Nikolay a dit qu'il était venu maintenant pour prendre cet argent et, ce qui était plus important, pour rester un moment dans l'ancien nid, pour entrer en contact avec la terre, afin de renouveler sa force comme les héros d'autrefois pour le travail qui se trouvait devant lui. In spite of his exaggerated stoop, and the emaciation that was so striking from his height, his movements were as rapid and abrupt as ever. Malgré sa courbure exagérée et l'émaciation si frappante de sa hauteur, ses mouvements étaient aussi rapides et brusques que jamais. Levin led him into his study.

His brother dressed with particular care—a thing he never used to do—combed his scanty, lank hair, and, smiling, went upstairs. ||||||||||||||||sönük||||| Son frère s'habillait avec un soin particulier - chose qu'il ne faisait jamais - peignait ses cheveux maigres et maigres et, souriant, monta à l'étage.

He was in the most affectionate and good-humored mood, just as Levin often remembered him in childhood. He even referred to Sergey Ivanovitch without rancor. When he saw Agafea Mihalovna, he made jokes with her and asked after the old servants. The news of the death of Parfen Denisitch made a painful impression on him. A look of fear crossed his face, but he regained his serenity immediately.

"Of course he was quite old," he said, and changed the subject. "Well, I'll spend a month or two with you, and then I'm off to Moscow. «Eh bien, je vais passer un mois ou deux avec vous, puis je pars à Moscou. Do you know, Myakov has promised me a place there, and I'm going into the service. Now I'm going to arrange my life quite differently," he went on. "You know I got rid of that woman." - Žinote, aš atsikratiau tos moters. "Marya Nikolaevna? Why, what for?" "Oh, she was a horrid woman! She caused me all sorts of worries." But he did not say what the annoyances were. He could not say that he had cast off Marya Nikolaevna because the tea was weak, and, above all, because she would look after him, as though he were an invalid. Jis negalėjo pasakyti, kad nusimetė Mariją Nikolajevną, nes arbata buvo silpna, ir visų pirma todėl, kad ji prižiūrėjo jį, tarsi jis būtų invalidas.

"Besides, I want to turn over a new leaf completely now. I've done silly things, of course, like everyone else, but money's the last consideration; I don't regret it. So long as there's health, and my health, thank God, is quite restored." Levin listened and racked his brains, but could think of nothing to say. |||kafasını yordu||||||||| Levin écouta et se creusa la cervelle, mais ne put penser à rien à dire. Nikolay probably felt the same; he began questioning his brother about his affairs; and Levin was glad to talk about himself, because then he could speak without hypocrisy. He told his brother of his plans and his doings. Hij vertelde zijn broer over zijn plannen en zijn doen en laten.

His brother listened, but evidently he was not interested by it.

These two men were so akin, so near each other, that the slightest gesture, the tone of voice, told both more than could be said in words.

Both of them now had only one thought—the illness of Nikolay and the nearness of his death—which stifled all else. |||||||||||||||||||boğulmuş|| Tous deux n'avaient plus qu'une pensée - la maladie de Nikolay et la proximité de sa mort - qui étouffait tout le reste. But neither of them dared to speak of it, and so whatever they said— not uttering the one thought that filled their minds—was all falsehood. Never had Levin been so glad when the evening was over and it was time to go to bed. Never with any outside person, never on any official visit had he been so unnatural and false as he was that evening. And the consciousness of this unnaturalness, and the remorse he felt at it, made him even more unnatural. He wanted to weep over his dying, dearly loved brother, and he had to listen and keep on talking of how he meant to live. Il voulait pleurer sur son frère mourant et bien-aimé, et il devait écouter et continuer à parler de la façon dont il entendait vivre.

As the house was damp, and only one bedroom had been kept heated, Levin put his brother to sleep in his own bedroom behind a screen.

His brother got into bed, and whether he slept or did not sleep, tossed about like a sick man, coughed, and when he could not get his throat clear, mumbled something. ||||||||||ya da|||||||||||||||||||| Son frère se mit au lit, et qu'il dormait ou non, se balançait comme un malade, toussa et quand il n'arrivait pas à se clarifier la gorge, il marmonna quelque chose. Sometimes when his breathing was painful, he said, "Oh, my God!" Sometimes when he was choking he muttered angrily, "Ah, the devil!" Parfois, quand il s'étouffait, il marmonnait avec colère: "Ah, le diable!" Levin could not sleep for a long while, hearing him. His thoughts were of the most various, but the end of all his thoughts was the same— death. Ses pensées étaient des plus diverses, mais la fin de toutes ses pensées était la même: la mort. Death, the inevitable end of all, for the first time presented itself to him with irresistible force. |||||||||||||||karşı konulamaz| And death, which was here in this loved brother, groaning half asleep and from habit calling without distinction on God and the devil, was not so remote as it had hitherto seemed to him. |||||||||inhaledecek şekilde|||||||||||||||||||||||| Et la mort, qui était ici chez ce frère bien-aimé, gémissant à demi endormi et par habitude invoquant sans distinction Dieu et le diable, n'était pas si lointaine qu'elle lui avait semblé jusque-là. It was in himself too, he felt that. If not today, tomorrow, if not tomorrow, in thirty years, wasn't it all the same! ||||||||||değil mi|||| And what was this inevitable death—he did not know, had never thought about it, and what was more, had not the power, had not the courage to think about it.

"I work, I want to do something, but I had forgotten it must all end; I had forgotten—death." He sat on his bed in the darkness, crouched up, hugging his knees, and holding his breath from the strain of thought, he pondered. Il s'assit sur son lit dans l'obscurité, s'accroupit, étreignant ses genoux et retenant son souffle à cause de la tension de la pensée, il réfléchit. But the more intensely he thought, the clearer it became to him that it was indubitably so, that in reality, looking upon life, he had forgotten one little fact—that death will come, and all ends; that nothing was even worth beginning, and that there was no helping it anyway. |||||||||||||||şüphesiz ki|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| Mais plus il pensait intensément, plus il lui devenait clair qu'il en était indubitablement ainsi, qu'en réalité, en regardant la vie, il avait oublié un petit fait: que la mort viendra et que tout finira; que rien ne valait même la peine de commencer, et qu'il n'y avait aucun moyen de l'aider de toute façon. Yes, it was awful, but it was so.

"But I am alive still. Now what's to be done? what's to be done?" he said in despair. He lighted a candle, got up cautiously and went to the looking-glass, and began looking at his face and hair. Yes, there were gray hairs about his temples. Evet|||||||şakakları He opened his mouth. His back teeth were beginning to decay. He bared his muscular arms. |açtı||| Il découvrit ses bras musclés. Yes, there was strength in them. But Nikolay, who lay there breathing with what was left of lungs, had had a strong, healthy body too. And suddenly he recalled how they used to go to bed together as children, and how they only waited till Fyodor Bogdanitch was out of the room to fling pillows at each other and laugh, laugh irrepressibly, so that even their awe of Fyodor Bogdanitch could not check the effervescing, overbrimming sense of life and happiness. ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||kendini tutamadan|||||||||||||kabaran|taşan||||| Et soudain, il se rappela comment ils allaient se coucher ensemble lorsqu'ils étaient enfants, et comment ils attendaient seulement que Fyodor Bogdanitch soit sorti de la pièce pour se jeter des oreillers et rire, rire de manière irrépressible, de sorte que même leur admiration pour Fyodor Bogdanitch ne pouvait pas. Vérifiez le sentiment effervescent et débordant de vie et de bonheur. "And now that bent, hollow chest…and I, not knowing what will become of me, or wherefore…" ||||||||||||||||nereden dolayı «Et maintenant cette poitrine courbée et creuse… et moi, ne sachant pas ce que je deviendrai, ni pourquoi…» "K…ha! K…ha! Damnation! Lanet olsun! Why do you keep fidgeting, why don't you go to sleep?" Pourquoi continuez-vous à vous agiter, pourquoi ne vous endormez-vous pas? " his brother's voice called to him. "Oh, I don't know, I'm not sleepy." "I have had a good sleep, I'm not in a sweat now. «J'ai bien dormi, je ne suis plus en sueur maintenant. Just see, feel my shirt; it's not wet, is it?" Levin felt, withdrew behind the screen, and put out the candle, but for a long while he could not sleep. The question how to live had hardly begun to grow a little clearer to him, when a new, insoluble question presented itself—death. La question de savoir comment vivre avait à peine commencé à devenir un peu plus claire pour lui, qu'une nouvelle question insoluble se posait: la mort.

"Why, he's dying—yes, he'll die in the spring, and how help him? «Pourquoi, il est en train de mourir - oui, il mourra au printemps, et comment l'aider? What can I say to him? What do I know about it? I'd even forgotten that it was at all." J'avais même oublié que c'était du tout. "