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- Джон Стейнбек
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- Гроздья гнева
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The
bodies
were
white
to
the
neck
and
wrists
,
and
burned
dark
brown
on
hands
and
faces
,
with
V
’
s
of
brown
at
the
collar
bones
.
They
scratched
themselves
with
sand
.
And
Noah
said
lazily
,
"
Like
to
jus
’
stay
here
.
Like
to
lay
here
forever
.
Never
get
hungry
an
’
never
get
sad
.
Lay
in
the
water
all
life
long
,
lazy
as
a
brood
sow
in
the
mud
.
"
And
Tom
,
looking
at
the
ragged
peaks
across
the
river
and
the
Needles
downstream
:
"
Never
seen
such
tough
mountains
.
This
here
’
s
a
murder
country
.
This
here
’
s
the
bones
of
a
country
.
Wonder
if
we
’
ll
ever
get
in
a
place
where
folks
can
live
’
thout
fightin
’
hard
scrabble
an
’
rocks
.
I
seen
pitchers
of
a
country
flat
an
’
green
,
an
’
with
little
houses
like
Ma
says
,
white
.
Ma
got
her
heart
set
on
a
white
house
.
Get
to
thinkin
’
they
ain
’
t
no
such
country
.
I
seen
pitchers
like
that
.
"
Pa
said
,
"
Wait
till
we
get
to
California
.
You
’
ll
see
nice
country
then
.
"
"
Jesus
Christ
,
Pa
!
This
here
is
California
.
"
Two
men
dressed
in
jeans
and
sweaty
blue
shirts
came
through
the
willows
and
looked
toward
the
naked
men
.
They
called
,
"
How
’
s
the
swimmin
’
?
"
"
Dunno
,
"
said
Tom
.
"
We
ain
’
t
tried
none
.
Sure
feels
good
to
set
here
,
though
.
"
"
Mind
if
we
come
in
an
’
set
?
"
"
She
ain
’
t
our
river
.
We
’
ll
len
’
you
a
little
piece
of
her
.
"
The
men
shucked
off
their
pants
,
peeled
their
shirts
,
and
waded
out
.
The
dust
coated
their
legs
to
the
knee
,
their
feet
were
pale
and
soft
with
sweat
.
They
settled
lazily
into
the
water
and
washed
listlessly
at
their
flanks
.
Sun
-
bitten
,
they
were
,
a
father
and
a
boy
.
