The slanting rays of the sun were still hot; his clothes were wet through with perspiration and stuck to his body; his left boot, full of water, was heavy and made a smacking sound; down his face, grimy with powder, ran drops of sweat; a bitter taste was in his mouth, the smell of powder and rust was in his nose, and the perpetual cry of the snipe was in his ears; he could not touch the barrels of his gun, they were so hot; his heart thumped with short, quick beats; his hands trembled with excitement and his tired feet stumbled as he dragged them over the hummocks and through the bog; but still he went on and shot.
Бекасов было много и тут, но Левин делал промах за промахом. Косые лучи солнца были еще жарки; платье, насквозь промокшее от пота, липло к телу; левый сапог, полный воды, был тяжел и чмокал; по испачканному пороховым осадком лицу каплями скатывался пот; во рту была горечь, в носу запах пороха и ржавчины, в ушах неперестающее чмоканье бекасов; до стволов нельзя было дотронуться, так они разгорелись; сердце стучало быстро и коротко; руки тряслись от волнения, и усталые ноги спотыкались и переплетались по кочкам и трясине; но он все ходил и стрелял.