В 1942-м году Набоков, к тому времени два года живший в Америке, написал стихотворение про Супермена и послал в журнал New Yorker. Журнал его отверг, и потом текст считали утерянным (Брайан Бойд, биограф Набокова, упоминает его в "Американских годах"). Три года назад Андрей Бабиков нашел его текст в архивах Эдмунда Уилсона, критика, с которым Набоков дружил и активно переписывался.
Содержание стихотворения (забавного, немного пошлого) - Суперман страдает от того, что ему недоступна любовь, потому что во время любовного акта он неизбежно убьет не только Лоис Лэйн, но еще и несколько зданий разрушит; а даже если этого чудом не произойдет, ребенок от такого союза будет очень опасен из-за своих суперспособностей во время младенчества.
The Man of To-morrow’s Lament
I have to wear these glasses – otherwise, when I caress her with my super-eyes, her lungs and liver are too plainly seen throbbing, like deep-sea creatures, in between dim bones. Oh, I am sick of loitering here, a banished trunk (like my namesake in “Lear”), but when I switch to tights, still less I prize my splendid torso, my tremendous thighs, the dark-blue forelock on my narrow brow, the heavy jaw; for I shall tell you now my fatal limitation … not the pact between the worlds of Fantasy and Fact which makes me shun such an attractive spot as Berchtesgaden, say; and also not that little business of my draft; but worse: a tragic misadjustment and a curse.
I’m young and bursting with prodigious sap, and I’m in love like any healthy chap – and I must throttle my dynamic heart for marriage would be murder on my part, an earthquake, wrecking on the night of nights a woman’s life, some palmtrees, all the lights, the big hotel, a smaller one next door and half a dozen army trucks – or more.
But even if that blast of love should spare her fragile frame – what children would she bear? What monstrous babe, knocking the surgeon down, would waddle out into the awestruck town? When two years old he’d break the strongest chairs, fall through the floor and terrorize the stairs; at four, he’d dive into a well; at five, explore a roaring furnace – and survive; at eight, he’d ruin the longest railway line by playing trains with real ones; and at nine, release all my old enemies from jail, and then I’d try to break his head – and fail.
So this is why, no matter where I fly, red-cloaked, blue-hosed, across the yellow sky, I feel no thrill in chasing thugs and thieves – and gloomily broad-shouldered Kent retrieves his coat and trousers from the garbage can and tucks away the cloak of Superman; and when she sighs – somewhere in Central Park where my immense bronze statue looms – “Oh, Clark … Isn’t he wonderful!?!”, I stare ahead and long to be a normal guy instead.
В 1942-м году Набоков, к тому времени два года живший в Америке, написал стихотворение про Супермена и послал в журнал New Yorker. Журнал его отверг, и потом текст считали утерянным (Брайан Бойд, биограф Набокова, упоминает его в "Американских годах"). Три года назад Андрей Бабиков нашел его текст в архивах Эдмунда Уилсона, критика, с которым Набоков дружил и активно переписывался.
Содержание стихотворения (забавного, немного пошлого) - Суперман страдает от того, что ему недоступна любовь, потому что во время любовного акта он неизбежно убьет не только Лоис Лэйн, но еще и несколько зданий разрушит; а даже если этого чудом не произойдет, ребенок от такого союза будет очень опасен из-за своих суперспособностей во время младенчества.
The Man of To-morrow’s Lament
I have to wear these glasses – otherwise, when I caress her with my super-eyes, her lungs and liver are too plainly seen throbbing, like deep-sea creatures, in between dim bones. Oh, I am sick of loitering here, a banished trunk (like my namesake in “Lear”), but when I switch to tights, still less I prize my splendid torso, my tremendous thighs, the dark-blue forelock on my narrow brow, the heavy jaw; for I shall tell you now my fatal limitation … not the pact between the worlds of Fantasy and Fact which makes me shun such an attractive spot as Berchtesgaden, say; and also not that little business of my draft; but worse: a tragic misadjustment and a curse.
I’m young and bursting with prodigious sap, and I’m in love like any healthy chap – and I must throttle my dynamic heart for marriage would be murder on my part, an earthquake, wrecking on the night of nights a woman’s life, some palmtrees, all the lights, the big hotel, a smaller one next door and half a dozen army trucks – or more.
But even if that blast of love should spare her fragile frame – what children would she bear? What monstrous babe, knocking the surgeon down, would waddle out into the awestruck town? When two years old he’d break the strongest chairs, fall through the floor and terrorize the stairs; at four, he’d dive into a well; at five, explore a roaring furnace – and survive; at eight, he’d ruin the longest railway line by playing trains with real ones; and at nine, release all my old enemies from jail, and then I’d try to break his head – and fail.
So this is why, no matter where I fly, red-cloaked, blue-hosed, across the yellow sky, I feel no thrill in chasing thugs and thieves – and gloomily broad-shouldered Kent retrieves his coat and trousers from the garbage can and tucks away the cloak of Superman; and when she sighs – somewhere in Central Park where my immense bronze statue looms – “Oh, Clark … Isn’t he wonderful!?!”, I stare ahead and long to be a normal guy instead.
BY Авва
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So, uh, whenever I hear about Telegram, it’s always in relation to something bad. What gives? Right now the digital security needs of Russians and Ukrainians are very different, and they lead to very different caveats about how to mitigate the risks associated with using Telegram. For Ukrainians in Ukraine, whose physical safety is at risk because they are in a war zone, digital security is probably not their highest priority. They may value access to news and communication with their loved ones over making sure that all of their communications are encrypted in such a manner that they are indecipherable to Telegram, its employees, or governments with court orders. "Markets were cheering this economic recovery and return to strong economic growth, but the cheers will turn to tears if the inflation outbreak pushes businesses and consumers to the brink of recession," he added. Stocks closed in the red Friday as investors weighed upbeat remarks from Russian President Vladimir Putin about diplomatic discussions with Ukraine against a weaker-than-expected print on U.S. consumer sentiment. This ability to mix the public and the private, as well as the ability to use bots to engage with users has proved to be problematic. In early 2021, a database selling phone numbers pulled from Facebook was selling numbers for $20 per lookup. Similarly, security researchers found a network of deepfake bots on the platform that were generating images of people submitted by users to create non-consensual imagery, some of which involved children.
from tr
