-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Стейнбек
-
- Гроздья гнева
-
- Стр. 198/563
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
wailed
the
song
,
"
I
’
m
Leaving
Old
Texas
,
"
that
eerie
song
that
was
sung
before
the
Spaniards
came
,
only
the
words
were
Indian
then
.
And
now
the
group
was
welded
to
one
thing
,
one
unit
,
so
that
in
the
dark
the
eyes
of
the
people
were
inward
,
and
their
minds
played
in
other
times
,
and
their
sadness
was
like
rest
,
like
sleep
.
He
sang
the
"
McAlester
Blues
"
and
then
,
to
make
up
for
it
to
the
older
people
,
he
sang
"
Jesus
Calls
Me
to
His
Side
.
"
The
children
drowsed
with
the
music
and
went
into
the
tents
to
sleep
,
and
the
singing
came
into
their
dreams
.
And
after
a
while
the
man
with
the
guitar
stood
up
and
yawned
.
Good
night
,
folks
,
he
said
.
And
they
murmured
,
Good
night
to
you
.
And
each
wished
he
could
pick
a
guitar
,
because
it
is
a
gracious
thing
.
Then
the
people
went
to
their
beds
,
and
the
camp
was
quiet
.
And
the
owls
coasted
overhead
,
and
the
coyotes
gabbled
in
the
distance
,
and
into
the
camp
skunks
walked
,
looking
for
bits
of
food
—
waddling
,
arrogant
skunks
,
afraid
of
nothing
.
The
night
passed
,
and
with
the
first
streak
of
dawn
the
women
came
out
of
the
tents
,
built
up
the
fires
,
and
put
the
coffee
to
boil
.
And
the
men
came
out
and
talked
softly
in
the
dawn
.
When
you
cross
the
Colorado
river
,
there
’
s
the
desert
,
they
say
.
Look
out
for
the
desert
.
See
you
don
’
t
get
hung
up
.
Take
plenty
water
,
case
you
get
hung
up
.
I
’
m
gonna
take
her
at
night
.
Me
too
:
She
’
ll
cut
the
living
Jesus
outa
you
.
