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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Братство кольца
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- Стр. 403/422
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This
night
we
must
all
be
sleepless
!
Dark
hides
us
now
.
But
what
the
day
will
show
who
can
tell
?
Have
your
weapons
close
to
hand
!
"
Sam
sat
tapping
the
hilt
of
his
sword
as
if
he
were
counting
on
his
fingers
,
and
looking
up
at
the
sky
.
"
It
's
very
strange
,
"
he
murmured
.
"
The
Moon
's
the
same
in
the
Shire
and
in
Wilderland
,
or
it
ought
to
be
.
But
either
it
's
out
of
its
running
,
or
I
'm
all
wrong
in
my
reckoning
.
You
'll
remember
,
Mr.
Frodo
,
the
Moon
was
waning
as
we
lay
on
the
flet
up
in
that
tree
:
a
week
from
the
full
,
I
reckon
.
And
we
'd
been
a
week
on
the
way
last
night
,
when
up
pops
a
New
Moon
as
thin
as
a
nail-paring
,
as
if
we
had
never
stayed
no
time
in
the
Elvish
country
.
"
Well
,
I
can
remember
three
nights
there
for
certain
,
and
I
seem
to
remember
several
more
,
but
I
would
take
my
oath
it
was
never
a
whole
month
.
Anyone
would
think
that
time
did
not
count
in
there
!
"
"
And
perhaps
that
was
the
way
of
it
,
"
said
Frodo
.
"
In
that
land
,
maybe
,
we
were
in
a
time
that
has
elsewhere
long
gone
by
.
It
was
not
,
I
think
,
until
Silverlode
bore
us
back
to
Anduin
that
we
returned
to
the
time
that
flows
through
mortal
lands
to
the
Great
Sea
.
And
I
do
n't
remember
any
moon
,
either
new
or
old
,
in
Caras
Galadhon
:
only
stars
by
night
and
sun
by
day
.
"
Legolas
stirred
in
his
boat
.
"
Nay
,
time
does
not
tarry
ever
,
"
he
said
;
"
but
change
and
growth
is
not
in
all
things
and
places
alike
.
For
the
Elves
the
world
moves
,
and
it
moves
both
very
swift
and
very
slow
.
Swift
,
because
they
themselves
change
little
,
and
all
else
fleets
by
:
it
is
a
grief
to
them
.
Slow
,
because
they
do
not
count
the
running
years
,
not
for
themselves
.
The
passing
seasons
are
but
ripples
ever
repeated
in
the
long
long
stream
.
Yet
beneath
the
Sun
all
things
must
wear
to
an
end
at
last
.
"
"
But
the
wearing
is
slow
in
Lorien
,
"
said
Frodo
.
"
The
power
of
the
Lady
is
on
it
.
Rich
are
the
hours
,
though
short
they
seem
,
in
Caras
Galadhon
,
where
Galadriel
wields
the
Elven-ring
.
"
"
That
should
not
have
been
said
outside
Lorien
,
not
even
to
me
,
"
said
Aragorn
.
"
Speak
no
more
of
it
!
But
so
it
is
,
Sam
:
in
that
land
you
lost
your
count
.
There
time
flowed
swiftly
by
us
,
as
for
the
Elves
.
The
old
moon
passed
,
and
a
new
moon
waxed
and
waned
in
the
world
outside
,
while
we
tarried
there
.
And
yestereve
a
new
moon
came
again
.
Winter
is
nearly
gone
.
Time
flows
on
to
a
spring
of
little
hope
.
"
The
night
passed
silently
.
No
voice
or
call
was
heard
again
across
the
water
.
The
travellers
huddled
in
their
boats
felt
the
changing
of
the
weather
.
The
air
grew
warm
and
very
still
under
the
great
moist
clouds
that
had
floated
up
from
the
South
and
the
distant
seas
.
The
rushing
of
the
River
over
the
rocks
of
the
rapids
seemed
to
grow
louder
and
closer
.
The
twigs
of
the
trees
above
them
began
to
drip
.
When
the
day
came
the
mood
of
the
world
about
them
had
become
soft
and
sad
.
Slowly
the
dawn
grew
to
a
pale
light
,
diffused
and
shadowless
.
