Бесконечность перевод романа на английский

Prologue
Infinity, like eternity, are one. Their main canvases are in demand. Wide canals and paths, like flowing rivers, over which bridges are thrown. Bridges of different lengths. You can walk along them for a long time and see all the beauty and width of the rivers.

Chapter 1
A pencil makes a little noise when it draws something. It draws lines. They are sometimes thicker, sometimes thinner. The limitation is a sheet of paper. And if we imagine this sheet as a model of the Earth. Send numbers to infinity. What will the theory gain then? We will launch a rocket with a zero value.

Chapter 2
The radius of the trajectories is not obvious. And this may be infinity. Multiply the world into white balls. Imagine that they are everywhere. They have filled everything around. You can’t pass or drive, as if you were in “infinity”. An absurd state.

Chapter 3
Kick one ball, it will pick up another and that will kick a third ball, and so on. Everything will start moving, there will be a cycle. This is on the earth, and if there are small squares in the sky that will be filled with clouds. And watch this picture, imagine all this.

Chapter 4
With imagination we can move mountains and turn them into infinity. "This is an endless process, what is reversible then?" Time is launched by the creator, it goes from century to century. And this or that person is born.

Chapter 5
There live on earth the stupid and the smart, the rich and the poor, and there are plenty of Dunnos. People are fat and thin, old and young. "Everyone eats and smokes the sky."
-You have done the most important thing in life.
- Raised a son. Grandchildren came.
-And what legacy did he leave?
-What are you talking about?
- Sons, daughters, grandchildren are good. But imagine if there were no masterpieces, culture did not develop, there was no music and literature. It would be interesting to live then.

Chapter 6
There is nothing in it. Life is boring and of little significance then. To have a rich soul. To be a cultured and intelligent person, that is the most important thing.
-You always say hello. You always thank and say thank you, please. And this is the basis, if you want the initial path of infinity.
Chapter 7
The path from the creation of the world to our days is an endless path. Wars interfere with this infinity. Destruction is underway. The path to destruction is the path of Satan.

Chapter 8
I wander through art galleries, winding up more than one kilometer. You can stop for hours in front of each picture. Immerse yourself in this artistic world. Expand your aesthetic horizons.

Chapter 9
Some people have the same dream. If a person is constantly impressed, reads books, listens to music, takes walks, then the fields for dreams appear and the boundaries expand.

Chapter 10
For some reason, one person chooses black, another red, and a third yellow. And many cannot stop at one color. Infinity of everything. But it is important not to allow chaos.

Chapter 11
Lines, dotted lines, more lines. We draw a circle. Everything in it is connecting and three-dimensional. Walking in a circle, you can't escape anywhere. The same is true with infinity.

Chapter 12. Pebble
In this infinity the hero saw himself. He felt the ground under his feet, despite all the obstacles.
Alexey left the house and hurried to the stone path. It ran far ahead, strewn with many different stones. Suddenly, a small stone flew into his sandal, causing him to wince unpleasantly. Alexey sat down on the edge of the path to shake out the uninvited guest. What fell from under his foot was not just rubbish, but a small but surprisingly shiny stone.
“Wow,” Alexey blurted out. “How beautiful.”
He picked up the find. His palms felt warm, almost hot. Looking closely, he saw his own face reflected in its smooth, time-polished surface – distorted and tired.
“Alexey, you took me in your arms,” a quiet but clear voice sounded.
Alexey shuddered and almost dropped the stone. He couldn't believe his ears.
"You... you can talk?" he finally managed to squeeze out.
- And you - listen? - the pebble retorted. - Where are you heading in such a hurry? You're in such a hurry that the world around you has become just a background. You don't notice anything anymore.
- It's somehow strange... To hear that from a stone.
"The endless path is expensive," said the voice, and there was no reproach in its words, but a quiet sadness. "Especially if you can't see where you're going."
Alexei thought for a moment, squeezing a warm stone in his palm. But then, as if remembering something, he abruptly threw it aside and, getting up, hurried along his endless path again.

Chapter 13
Alexey walked along it for a long time. And suddenly he saw a hedgehog. The hedgehog was running across the path, and white mushrooms were decorating its needle-like back.
-You're in a hurry too.
-I'm in a hurry to feed the hedgehogs.
-You have a lot of them.
-Five.
Today everyone is talking to me, thought Alexey and walked further along the path.
Alexey, smiling at his fantasy (he decided that it was fatigue and a figment of his imagination), goes out to the edge of the forest. There he sees a small village. Approaching the first house, he notices a woman who puts a bowl of milk on the porch. From under the porch runs out... that same hedgehog! And after him - five little hedgehogs. The woman smiles at Alexey.
- Are you following our path? - she asks. - It doesn't bring everyone to us. Only those who are kind. And this is my friend, the mushroom picker, - she nods at the hedgehog. - He walks the entire forest, brings me the best mushrooms on thorns. Then I pay him with milk.
The hedgehog dropped the mushrooms and began to drink milk with the hedgehogs. And Alexey was given some milk from the road.
“A nice woman,” thought Alexey.

Chapter 14
The sun was shining at his back. Alexey walked on. His house was already far away. He did not want to go back and lay down in the field. He fell fast asleep. He dreamed of stars and stones. Everything sparkled and glittered. And when he woke up, he saw a star in his hand.
- This can't be. What a miracle, - Alexey cried. And the star immediately disappeared.
-This is some kind of deception. Reality and temptation in the chain of infinity.

Chapter 15
The star disappeared, leaving only a light, almost impalpable warmth on his palm. Alexey sat in the field, trying to comprehend what had happened. The chain of infinity... It consisted not only of huge, incomprehensible links - eternity, worlds, wars and art. It was also woven from small things: a talking stone, a hedgehog with mushrooms, a bowl of milk and a star dreamed of in his fist.
He stood up, brushed the grass off his clothes, and felt an unexpected lightness. The desire to return home, to the cramped walls where the lines on the paper were the only escape, had disappeared. Now his endless path called forward. He realized that going back was like walking in a circle he had once drawn. Pointless.

Chapter 16
The path led him to an old, almost fairy-tale oak tree. Under it sat a gray-haired man with an easel, moving a brush across a canvas. But there were no familiar landscapes on the canvas. The artist was painting an interweaving of luminous threads, patterns resembling a map of galaxies or the neural connections of a giant brain.
“What is this?” Alexey couldn’t help but ask.
“Infinity,” the artist answered simply, without looking up from his work. “Or rather, a tiny fragment of it. An attempt to grasp the elusive.”
- But it is impossible to depict it! It has no form.
“Everything has a form,” the old man smiled. “Even the formless. Everything is made of rhythm and lines. Look at the bark of this tree, at the veins of the leaf, at the currents of the rivers from above. This is her handwriting. I am only retelling it in my language.
Alexey looked at the canvas, and the lines seemed familiar to him - the same ones he himself drew with a pencil on a limited sheet of paper. But here they were alive, breathing.
“And what is the limitation for you?” asked Alexey.
“The heart,” the artist replied. “If it stops feeling the rhythm, the canvas becomes a prison. Your infinity begins and ends in the heart. Go where it beats in time with the world.”

Chapter 17
The artist's words rang in Alexey's head. "Go where it beats in time with the world." He walked, and now he not only saw the world as a background, but heard its sound. The whisper of leaves, the chirping of grasshoppers, the distant whistle of a train - all this was part of a single melody.
He remembered the pebble he had thrown away out of fear. He remembered its quiet sadness. Now he understood: that voice was not a deception, but part of the very rhythm he had ignored for so long, locked in the cage of his own calculations.
Suddenly the path forked. One road, well-trodden and clear, led to the city lights visible in the distance. The other, barely noticeable, overgrown with grass, went into the thicket of the forest. Reason told me to choose the first. But the heart, the very one the artist had spoken of, began to beat faster when looking at the second.
Alexey took a step towards the thicket.

Chapter 18
The forest swallowed him up. The twilight barely penetrated the dense crowns. The air became thick, filled with the smell of pine needles, damp earth and something ancient. Here, infinity felt different - not as breadth, but as depth. The depth of time, the memory of the earth.
He walked, and it no longer seemed strange to him when two emerald eyes looked at him from behind a fallen tree. A large lynx climbed out onto the mossy stone. She showed neither fear nor aggression, but merely studied him with a calm, all-understanding look.
"Are you lost?" that look seemed to ask.
“No,” Alexey answered mentally. “I think I’m just starting to find my way.”
The lynx slowly moved its head, as if nodding, then turned and silently disappeared into the gloom. Alexey was not afraid. He felt that this was not an encounter with a wild animal, but another sign. Another voice in the general symphony of an endless journey.
He realized that the main thing is not to get somewhere, but to hear, see and feel every moment of this path. And then, perhaps, the star that he so thoughtlessly let go of his hand will return. But not as a deception, but as a reward.
Night found him on the shore of a forest lake. The water was absolutely still, reflecting the entire starry dome of the sky. It felt like there was an abyss under his feet, a second space, and if he took a step, he would find himself in infinity, hovering between the luminaries.
Alexei sat down on the sand, and in the silence that old conversation about the inheritance came back to him. What would he leave behind? Numbers on paper? Blueprints for rockets that would never take off?
No. Heritage is something else. It is a kind word spoken to a wanderer. It is a bowl of milk for a hedgehog. It is the ability to listen to silence and hear the voices of the world in it - be it a stone, a star or a forest animal. This is the very culture of the soul that was discussed. It does not die. It, like circles on water, spreads into eternity, becoming part of infinity.
He looked at the reflection of the stars in the water and smiled. He no longer felt tired and distorted, like in the reflection of that pebble. His face was calm.
"I'm listening," he whispered into the stillness of the night. "I'm ready to listen."
And then, at the very edge of the water, where the two skies met, he saw a faint light. A small but bright point. It rose slowly above the water and, like a firefly, headed toward him. It was his star. It did not fall from the sky - it rose from the depths, from the reflection, to return to him.
Alexey extended his palm, and the star descended on it, not burning, but only warming with its light. This time he did not scream in surprise and did not look for a catch. He simply felt. It was the entire universe in his hand. Its part. Its infinity.

Epilogue
Infinity is one. It is in the big and the small. In a rocket aiming for zero and in a pebble keeping the warmth of a hand. In a brilliant symphony and in a simple "thank you". In the rumble of centuries and in the quiet whisper of the forest.
It is incomprehensible, but you can feel it. You cannot go all the way, but you can walk, and every step will be filled with meaning and wonder.
Alexey walked. His path was endless. But now he knew that this was not a curse, but a gift. And he carried in his palm a small, shining eternity. His answer. His star.
And somewhere far away, at the other end of infinity, another man was drawing lines on a piece of paper with a pencil, searching for his way to zero. And maybe one day, their paths will cross.