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- Авторы
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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 201/241
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He
smiled
as
he
thought
of
the
god
's
image
for
it
made
him
think
of
a
bottle-nosed
judge
in
a
wig
,
putting
commas
into
a
document
which
he
held
at
arm
's
length
,
and
he
knew
that
he
would
not
have
remembered
the
god
's
name
but
that
it
was
like
an
Irish
oath
.
It
was
folly
.
But
was
it
for
this
folly
that
he
was
about
to
leave
for
ever
the
house
of
prayer
and
prudence
into
which
he
had
been
born
and
the
order
of
life
out
of
which
he
had
come
?
They
came
back
with
shrill
cries
over
the
jutting
shoulder
of
the
house
,
flying
darkly
against
the
fading
air
.
What
birds
were
they
?
He
thought
that
they
must
be
swallows
who
had
come
back
from
the
south
.
Then
he
was
to
go
away
for
they
were
birds
ever
going
and
coming
,
building
ever
an
unlasting
home
under
the
eaves
of
men
's
houses
and
ever
leaving
the
homes
they
had
built
to
wander
.
Bend
down
your
faces
,
Oona
and
Aleel
.
I
gaze
upon
them
as
the
swallow
gazes
Upon
the
nest
under
the
eave
before
He
wander
the
loud
waters
.
A
soft
liquid
joy
like
the
noise
of
many
waters
flowed
over
his
memory
and
he
felt
in
his
heart
the
soft
peace
of
silent
spaces
of
fading
tenuous
sky
above
the
waters
,
of
oceanic
silence
,
of
swallows
flying
through
the
sea-dusk
over
the
flowing
waters
.
A
soft
liquid
joy
flowed
through
the
words
where
the
soft
long
vowels
hurtled
noiselessly
and
fell
away
,
lapping
and
flowing
back
and
ever
shaking
the
white
bells
of
their
waves
in
mute
chime
and
mute
peal
,
and
soft
low
swooning
cry
;
and
he
felt
that
the
augury
he
had
sought
in
the
wheeling
darting
birds
and
in
the
pale
space
of
sky
above
him
had
come
forth
from
his
heart
like
a
bird
from
a
turret
,
quietly
and
swiftly
.
Symbol
of
departure
or
of
loneliness
?
The
verses
crooned
in
the
ear
of
his
memory
composed
slowly
before
his
remembering
eyes
the
scene
of
the
hall
on
the
night
of
the
opening
of
the
national
theatre
.
He
was
alone
at
the
side
of
the
balcony
,
looking
out
of
jaded
eyes
at
the
culture
of
Dublin
In
the
stalls
and
at
the
tawdry
scene-cloths
and
human
dolls
framed
by
the
garish
lamps
of
the
stage
.
A
burly
policeman
sweated
behind
him
and
seemed
at
every
moment
about
to
act
.
The
catcalls
and
hisses
and
mocking
cries
ran
in
rude
gusts
round
the
hall
from
his
scattered
fellow
students
.
--
A
libel
on
Ireland
!