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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Братство кольца
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- Стр. 395/422
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"
Nay
!
"
said
Legolas
.
"
Alas
for
us
all
!
And
for
all
that
walk
the
world
in
these
after-days
.
For
such
is
the
way
of
it
:
to
find
and
lose
,
as
it
seems
to
those
whose
boat
is
on
the
running
stream
.
But
I
count
you
blessed
,
Gimli
son
of
Gloin
:
for
your
loss
you
suffer
of
your
own
free
will
,
and
you
might
have
chosen
otherwise
.
But
you
have
not
forsaken
your
companions
,
and
the
least
reward
that
you
shall
have
is
that
the
memory
of
Lothlorien
shall
remain
ever
clear
and
unstained
in
your
heart
,
and
shall
neither
fade
nor
grow
stale
.
"
"
Maybe
,
"
said
Gimli
;
"
and
I
thank
you
for
your
words
.
True
words
doubtless
;
yet
all
such
comfort
is
cold
.
Memory
is
not
what
the
heart
desires
.
That
is
only
a
mirror
,
be
it
clear
as
Kheled-zaram
.
Or
so
says
the
heart
of
Gimli
the
Dwarf
.
Elves
may
see
things
otherwise
.
Indeed
I
have
heard
that
for
them
memory
is
more
like
to
the
waking
world
than
to
a
dream
.
Not
so
for
Dwarves
.
"
But
let
us
talk
no
more
of
it
.
Look
to
the
boat
!
She
is
too
low
in
the
water
with
all
this
baggage
,
and
the
Great
River
is
swift
.
I
do
not
wish
to
drown
my
grief
in
cold
water
.
"
He
took
up
a
paddle
,
and
steered
towards
the
western
bank
,
following
Aragorn
's
boat
ahead
,
which
had
already
moved
out
of
the
middle
stream
So
the
Company
went
on
their
long
way
,
down
the
wide
hurrying
waters
,
borne
ever
southwards
.
Bare
woods
stalked
along
either
bank
,
and
they
could
not
see
any
glimpse
of
the
lands
behind
.
The
breeze
died
away
and
the
River
flowed
without
a
sound
.
No
voice
of
bird
broke
the
silence
.
The
sun
grew
misty
as
the
day
grew
old
,
until
it
gleamed
in
a
pale
sky
like
a
high
white
pearl
.
Then
it
faded
into
the
West
,
and
dusk
came
early
,
followed
by
a
grey
and
starless
night
.
Far
into
the
dark
quiet
hours
they
floated
on
,
guiding
their
boats
under
the
overhanging
shadows
of
the
western
woods
.
Great
trees
passed
by
like
ghosts
,
thrusting
their
twisted
thirsty
roots
through
the
mist
down
into
the
water
.
It
was
dreary
and
cold
.
Frodo
sat
and
listened
to
the
faint
lap
and
gurgle
of
the
River
fretting
among
the
tree-roots
and
driftwood
near
the
shore
,
until
his
head
nodded
and
he
fell
into
an
uneasy
sleep
.
Frodo
was
roused
by
Sam
.
He
found
that
he
was
lying
,
well
wrapped
,
under
tall
grey-skinned
trees
in
a
quiet
corner
of
the
woodlands
on
the
west
bank
of
the
Great
River
,
Anduin
.
He
had
slept
the
night
away
,
and
the
grey
of
morning
was
dim
among
the
bare
branches
.
Gimli
was
busy
with
a
small
fire
near
at
hand
.
They
started
again
before
the
day
was
broad
.
Not
that
most
of
the
Company
were
eager
to
hurry
southwards
:
they
were
content
that
the
decision
,
which
they
must
make
at
latest
when
they
came
to
Rauros
and
the
Tindrock
Isle
,
still
lay
some
days
ahead
;
and
they
let
the
River
bear
them
on
at
its
own
pace
,
having
no
desire
to
hasten
towards
the
perils
that
lay
beyond
,
whichever
course
they
took
in
the
end
.
Aragorn
let
them
drift
with
the
stream
as
they
wished
,
husbanding
their
strength
against
weariness
to
come
.
But
he
insisted
that
at
least
they
should
start
early
each
day
and
journey
on
far
into
the
evening
;
for
he
felt
in
his
heart
that
time
was
pressing
,
and
he
feared
that
the
Dark
Lord
had
not
been
idle
while
they
lingered
in
Lorien
.
Nonetheless
they
saw
no
sign
of
an
enemy
that
day
,
nor
the
next
.
The
dull
grey
hours
passed
without
event
.
As
the
third
day
of
their
voyage
wore
on
the
lands
changed
slowly
:
the
trees
thinned
and
then
failed
altogether
.
On
the
eastern
bank
to
their
left
they
saw
long
formless
slopes
stretching
up
and
away
toward
the
sky
;
brown
and
withered
they
looked
,
as
if
fire
had
passed
over
them
,
leaving
no
living
blade
of
green
:
an
unfriendly
waste
without
even
a
broken
tree
or
a
bold
stone
to
relieve
the
emptiness
.
They
had
come
to
the
Brown
Lands
that
lay
,
vast
and
desolate
,
between
Southern
Mirkwood
and
the
hills
of
the
Emyn
Muil
.
What
pestilence
or
war
or
evil
deed
of
the
Enemy
had
so
blasted
all
that
region
even
Aragorn
could
not
tell
.
Upon
the
west
to
their
right
the
land
was
treeless
also
,
but
it
was
flat
,
and
in
many
places
green
with
wide
plains
of
grass
.
On
this
side
of
the
River
they
passed
forests
of
great
reeds
,
so
tall
that
they
shut
out
all
view
to
the
west
,
as
the
little
boats
went
rustling
by
along
their
fluttering
borders
.
Their
dark
withered
plumes
bent
and
tossed
in
the
light
cold
airs
,
hissing
softly
and
sadly
.
Here
and
there
through
openings
Frodo
could
catch
sudden
glimpses
of
rolling
meads
,
and
far
beyond
them
hills
in
the
sunset
,
and
away
on
the
edge
of
sight
a
dark
line
,
where
marched
the
southernmost
ranks
of
the
Misty
Mountains
.
There
was
no
sign
of
living
moving
things
,
save
birds
.
Of
these
there
were
many
:
small
fowl
whistling
and
piping
in
the
reeds
,
but
they
were
seldom
seen
.
Once
or
twice
the
travellers
heard
the
rush
and
whine
of
swan-wings
,
and
looking
up
they
saw
a
great
phalanx
streaming
along
the
sky
.
