A Revolução dos Bichos: o começo do livro em inglês com tradução para o português

Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes. With the ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard, kicked off his boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer from the barrel in the scullery, and made his way up to bed, where Mrs. Jones was already snoring.

O sr. Jones, da Granja do Solar, havia trancado os galinheiros para a noite, mas estava bêbado demais para lembrar de fechar as portinholas. Com o círculo de luz da lanterna dançando de um lado para o outro, ele cambaleou pelo pátio, tirou as botas na porta dos fundos, puxou um último copo de cerveja do barril na copa e subiu para a cama, onde a sra. Jones já roncava.

As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a fluttering all through the farm buildings. Word had gone round during the day that old Major, the prize Middle White boar, had had a strange dream on the previous night and wished to communicate it to the other animals. It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon as Mr. Jones was safely out of the way. Old Major (so he was always called, though the name under which he had been exhibited was Willingdon Beauty) was so highly regarded on the farm that everyone was quite ready to lose an hour's sleep in order to hear what he had to say.

Assim que a luz do quarto se apagou, houve um rebuliço e um bater de asas por todos os edifícios da granja. Durante o dia, correra a notícia de que o velho Major, o premiado cachaço Middle White, tivera um sonho estranho na noite anterior e desejava comunicá-lo aos outros animais. Ficara combinado que todos se reuniriam no grande celeiro assim que o sr. Jones estivesse em segurança fora do caminho. O velho Major (assim era sempre chamado, embora o nome sob o qual fora exibido fosse Willingdon Beauty) era tão respeitado na granja que todos estavam prontos a perder uma hora de sono para ouvir o que ele tinha a dizer.

At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was already ensconced on his bed of straw, under a lantern which hung from a beam. He was twelve years old and had lately grown rather stout, but he was still a majestic-looking pig, with a wise and benevolent appearance in spite of the fact that his tushes had never been cut. Before long the other animals began to arrive and make themselves comfortable after their different fashions. First came the three dogs, Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher, and then the pigs, who settled down in the straw immediately in front of the platform. The hens perched themselves on the window-sills, the pigeons fluttered up to the rafters, the sheep and cows lay down behind the pigs and began to chew the cud. The two cart-horses, Boxer and Clover, came in together, walking very slowly and setting down their vast hairy hoofs with great care lest there should be some small animal concealed in the straw. Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had never quite got her figure back after her fourth foal. Boxer was an enormous beast, nearly eighteen hands high, and as strong as any two ordinary horses put together. A white stripe down his nose gave him a somewhat stupid appearance, and in fact he was not of first-rate intelligence, but he was universally respected for his steadiness of character and tremendous powers of work. After the horses came Muriel, the white goat, and Benjamin, the donkey. Benjamin was the oldest animal on the farm, and the worst tempered. He seldom talked, and when he did, it was usually to make some cynical remark--for instance, he would say that God had given him a tail to keep the flies off, but that he would sooner have had no tail and no flies. Alone among the animals on the farm he never laughed. If asked why, he would say that he saw nothing to laugh at. Nevertheless, without openly admitting it, he was devoted to Boxer; the two of them usually spent their Sundays together in the small paddock beyond the orchard, grazing side by side and never speaking.

Numa das extremidades do grande celeiro, sobre uma espécie de plataforma elevada, Major já estava acomodado em seu leito de palha, sob uma lanterna pendurada numa viga. Tinha doze anos e ultimamente engordara bastante, mas ainda era um porco de aparência majestosa, com um ar sábio e benevolente, apesar de suas presas nunca terem sido cortadas. Não demorou muito e os outros animais começaram a chegar e a se acomodar, cada um à sua maneira. Primeiro vieram os três cães, Bluebell, Jessie e Pincher, e depois os porcos, que se instalaram na palha bem em frente à plataforma. As galinhas empoleiraram-se nos peitoris das janelas, os pombos voaram para as vigas, as ovelhas e as vacas deitaram-se atrás dos porcos e começaram a ruminar. Os dois cavalos de tração, Boxer e Clover, entraram juntos, andando bem devagar e pousando seus enormes cascos peludos com muito cuidado, para que não houvesse algum animal pequeno escondido na palha. Clover era uma égua robusta e maternal, aproximando-se da meia-idade, que nunca recuperara completamente a silhueta depois do quarto potro. Boxer era um animal enorme, com quase um metro e oitenta de altura, e tão forte quanto dois cavalos comuns juntos. Uma faixa branca no focinho lhe dava uma aparência um tanto estúpida, e de fato ele não tinha inteligência de primeira linha, mas era universalmente respeitado por sua firmeza de caráter e por seu tremendo poder de trabalho. Depois dos cavalos vieram Muriel, a cabra branca, e Benjamin, o burro. Benjamin era o animal mais velho da granja e o de pior temperamento. Raramente falava, e quando falava, era geralmente para fazer algum comentário cínico, por exemplo, dizia que Deus lhe dera uma cauda para espantar as moscas, mas que preferia não ter cauda nem moscas. Único entre os animais da granja, ele nunca ria. Se lhe perguntassem por quê, dizia que não via nada de engraçado. No entanto, sem admitir abertamente, era devotado a Boxer; os dois costumavam passar os domingos juntos no pequeno prado além do pomar, pastando lado a lado e sem nunca conversar.