|Subject|| ||hoist that rag|
поменяйте там в переводах Hoist that rag - ето не про ветошь.
ето вейтс цитирует крики зрителей в старом лондоне на спектакле - "поднимай занавес!"
о чем и пруф борхеса
If the packed theater houses of the Bowery
(whose audiences would yell "H'ist dat rag!"
when the curtain failed to rise promptly at the
scheduled time) presented so many of those
gallop-and-shoot "horse operas," the reason is
that America was experiencing a fascination
with the West. Beyond the setting sun lay the
gold of Nevada and California. Beyond the
setting sun lay the cedar-felling ax, the buffalo's
huge Babylonian face, Brigham Young's top hat
and populous marriage bed, the red man's
ceremonies and his wrath, the clear desert air,
the wild prairie, the elemental earth whose
nearness made the heart beat faster, like the
nearness of the sea. The West was beckoning. A
constant, rhythmic murmur filled those years:
the sound of thousands of Americans settling
the West. That procession, in the year 1872, was
joined by the always coiled and ready to strike*
Bill Harrigan, fleeing a rectangular cell.
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