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Found ant: 2009 words & 2 translates

English Ўзбек
And even if the president keeps his promise never to run again, he is unlikely to want somebody who is not loyal to him to take the reins in 2029. Тоқаев бошқа ҳеч қачон номзодини қўймаслик ваъдасини бажарган тақдирда ҳам, 2029 йилда ўрнини унга содиқ бўлмаган одам эгаллашига йўл қўйиши даргумон.

It was the last of Morganson's bacon. In all his life he had never pampered his stomach. In fact, his stomach had been a sort of negligible quantity that bothered him little, and about which he thought less. But now, in the long absence of wonted delights, the keen yearning of his stomach was tickled hugely by the sharp, salty bacon.

Моргансоннинг томоғидан сўнгги бекон* тишлами саримойдай ўтиб кетди. У ҳаётида бирор маротаба ошқозонини бундай сийламаганди. Ошқозон Моргансон учун эътибордан холи ва уни кам безовта қилувчи нарса эди, ўзи ҳам ошқозон масаласида кўпам қайғуравермасди. Лекин ҳозир узоқ очликдан сўнг тузланган бекон бўлаги нафсини қондирди.

With resolve came action. He pulled himself stiffly to his feet and proceeded to break camp. He packed the rolled blankets, the frying-pan, rifle, and axe on the sled, and passed a lashing around the load. Then he warmed his hands at the fire and pulled on his mittens. He was foot-sore, and limped noticeably as he took his place at the head of the sled. When he put the looped haul-rope over his shoulder, and leant his weight against it to start the sled, he winced. His flesh was galled by many days of contact with the haul-rope. Энди оёқни қўлга олиш лозим. Моргансон аранг қаддини ростлаб, чодирни йиғиштиришга тушди; ўралган адёлни, товани, милтиқ ва болтани чанага жойлаб, барини арқон билан боғлади; кейин қўлини оловга тутиб, қўлқопини кийди. Оёқлари зир қақшар, чананинг олд қисмига ўтаётганда оқсоқланаётганини сезди. Елкасига арқон ташлаб, чанани жойидан қўзғатиш учун бор кучи билан тортди-ю, беихтиёр оғриқдан букчайиб қолди: адоқсиз йўлда арқон елкаларини шилиб юборганди.
He seemed satisfied with the view and returned to the sled the way he had come. He put the haul-rope over his shoulder and dragged the sled up the swale. The snow was unpacked and soft, and it was hard work. The runners clogged and stuck, and he was panting severely ere he had covered the half-mile. Night had come on by the time he had pitched his small tent, set up the sheet-iron stove, and chopped a supply of firewood. He had no candles, and contented himself with a pot of tea before crawling into his blankets. Моргансон худди ўша айланма йўлдан ортига қайтди. Яна лаънати арқонни ортмоқлаб, дара бўйлаб чана тортди. Қорнинг намлигидан чана тортиш мушкул эди. Чанага қор ёпишавериб дам-бадам тўхташга тўғри келар ва ярим мил юрмай Моргансоннинг нафаси бўғзига тиқилиб қоларди. Тун қора кўрпасини ёйганда чоғроқ чодирини тиклаб, темир печини ўрнатиб, шох-шабба йиғишга улгурган эди. Шам ҳам тугаб битганди. Бир финжон чойга қаноатланиб, адёлини устига тортди.
Each day grew colder. Four biscuits could not keep up the heat of his body, despite the quantities of hot spruce tea he drank, and he increased his allowance, morning and evening, to three biscuits. In the middle of the day he ate nothing, contenting himself with several cups of excessively weak real tea. This programme became routine. In the morning three biscuits, at noon real tea, and at night three biscuits. In between he drank spruce tea for his scurvy. He caught himself making larger biscuits, and after a severe struggle with himself went back to the old size. Кундан-кун совуқ забтига ола бошлади. Гарчи Моргансон босиб-босиб игнабарг дамламасидан ичса-да, эндиликда тўрт дона кулча билан бўш қоп тик турмасди. Кунлик тановулдаги кулчаларни олтитага кўпайтиришига тўғри келди – учтаси саҳарликда, учтаси кечликда. Кундузи бир тишлам ҳам нон тишламасди. Суюқ, лекин қайноқ чой билан чекланарди, холос. Орада зангилага қарши игнабарг дамламасидан ичиб турди. Кунлар шу тарзда қувлашмачоқ ўйинини давом эттирарди.
His frozen thumb gave him a great deal of trouble. While watching by the bank he got into the habit of taking his mitten off and thrusting the hand inside his shirt so as to rest the thumb in the warmth of his arm-pit. A mail carrier came over the trail, and Morganson let him pass. A mail carrier was an important person, and was sure to be missed immediately. Моргансон совуқ олган бошмалдоғидан хавотирланарди. Қўлқопини ечиб қўлини қўлтиғига тиқиб олиш одат тусига кирди. Йўлда кўринди. Моргансон уни ўтказиб юборди: хат ташувчи анчайин таниқли шахс, ғойиб бўлганини билишса, Моргансонни дарров қўлга туширишади.
It was in the next week that a new factor entered into Morganson's life. He wanted to know the date. It became an obsession. He pondered and calculated, but his conclusions were rarely twice the same. The first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, and all day as well, watching by the trail, he worried about it. He awoke at night and lay awake for hours over the problem. To have known the date would have been of no value to him; but his curiosity grew until it equalled his hunger and his desire to live. Finally it mastered him, and he resolved to go to Minto and find out. Кейинги ҳафта Моргансоннинг ҳаётида янги ташвиш туғилди: бугун қандай сана эканлигини билгиси келиб қолди. Бу ўй хирапашшадай миясига ўрнашиб олди. У ўйлай-ўйлай, ҳисоблай-ҳисоблай ҳар сафар ҳисобдан адашиб кетаверди. Шу ўй билан уйғонар, уззукун шу ўй миясини пармалар ва кечаси ҳам шу ўй билан уйқуга кетарди. Баъзида тунлари мижжа қоқмай тонг оттирарди. Аслида бу унчалик аҳамиятга эга бўлмаса-да, Моргансоннинг очликдек, яшашга бўлган иштиёқдек хавотири алангаланаверди. Охир-оқибат бу ўз кучини кўрсатди ҳам. Моргансон шаҳарга тушишга жазм этди.
He was still trying to become acquainted with his own voice. He hobbled across the floor and leant against the bar. He knew he must lie consistently; and while he maintained an appearance of careless indifference, his heart was beating and pounding furiously and irregularly, and he could not help looking hungrily at the three men by the stove. They were the possessors of life--his life. У ҳануз овозини измига бўйсундиролмай ҳалак эди. Пештахтага яқинлашиб, тирсаги билан суянди. Обдон ўйлаб, кейин алдаш лозимлигини жуда яхши тушунарди; зоҳиран совуққон ва бепарво кўринса-да, юраги така-пука бўлар, ичида довул қўпган эди. Анов уч оға-инига еб қўйгудек қарашдан ўзини тиёлмади. Ахир, улар ҳаёт деб аталмиш неъматнинг соҳиблари.
The action of the two glasses of whisky on Morganson's empty stomach and weak condition was rapid. The next he knew he was sitting by the stove on a box, and it seemed as though ages had passed. A tall, broad-shouldered, black-whiskered man was paying for drinks. Morganson's swimming eyes saw him drawing a greenback from a fat roll, and Morganson's swimming eyes cleared on the instant. They were hundred-dollar bills. It was life! His life! He felt an almost irresistible impulse to snatch the money and dash madly out into the night. Оч қоринга ичилган икки стакан виски заиф танада шу заҳоти ўз ишини кўрсатди. Моргансон ҳушига келганда печ ёнидаги яшикда ўтирган эди. Орадан бир аср ўтиб кетгандай туюлди. Дароз, қорасоқол, яғриндор киши қовоқхона эгаси билан ҳисоб-китоб қилди. Моргансоннинг кўз ўнгини туман қоплаган бўлса-да, қорасоқол қалингина пул дастасидан биттасини ажратиб олганини кўрди. Туман бир зумга тарқади. Бу юз долларлик пуллар эди. Ҳаёт! Унинг ҳаёти! У пулларга чанг солиб, қоронғу бурчакка отилишдек енгиб бўлмас истакни туйди.
The black-whiskered man and one of his companions arose. "Come on, Oleson," the former said to the third one of the party, a fair-haired, ruddy-faced giant. Oleson came to his feet, yawning and stretching. "What are you going to bed so soon for?" the barkeeper asked plaintively. "It's early yet." "Got to make Selkirk to-morrow," said he of the black whiskers. "On Christmas Day!" the barkeeper cried. "The better the day the better the deed," the other laughed. Қорасоқол қўзғалди: ортидан жўраларидан бири ҳам ўрнидан турди. – Кетдик, Ольсон, – деди қорасоқол норғул, юзи қизил, малладан келган йўлдошларига. Ольсон эснаб, керишганча ўрнидан қўзғалди. – Нима, дарров ётмоқчимисизлар? – деди ранжигансимон қовоқхона эгаси. –Ҳали эрта-ку. – Эртага Селкеркда бўлишимиз лозим.– Рождествонинг биринчи кунида-я! – Кундузи йўл юриш хийла осонроқ.
When he fired the first man whirled half around and went down on the trail. In the instant of surprise, Morganson pulled the trigger on John Thompson--too low, for the latter staggered and sat down suddenly on the sled. Morganson raised his aim and fired again. John Thompson sank down backward along the top of the loaded sled. Гумбурлаган товуш янгради; олдиндаги одам сулайиб, оёғи осмондан бўлди. Моргансон ҳовлиқиб, Жон Томсонни нишонга олди. Бироқ ўқ ҳато кетди. Жон гандираклаб, чанага минди. Моргансон нишонни юқорироқ олиб, яна ўқ узди. Жон Томсон чалқанчасига ағанади.
He held his fire and desperately studied Oleson's flight. The giant was grotesquely curving and twisting and running at top speed along the trail, the tail of his parka flapping smartly behind. Morganson trained his rifle on the man and with a swaying action followed his erratic flight. Morganson's finger was getting numb. He could scarcely feel the trigger. "God help me," he breathed a prayer aloud, and pulled the trigger. The running man pitched forward on his face, rebounded from the hard trail, and slid along, rolling over and over. He threshed for a moment with his arms and then lay quiet. Моргансон зўр диққат билан қочоқни кузатар эди. У олға силжиётган Ольсонга милтиғи милини тўғрилади. Бармоғи увушиб қолибди, тепкини сезмади. – Тангрим, ўзинг мадад бер! – нидо қилди ва тепкини босди. Ольсон юзтубан йиқилди, заранг йўлда бир неча марта ўмбалоқ ошди. Қўллари ёрдамида туришга чиранди, бироздан кейин қимирламай қолди.
He made a movement to start back toward the sled, but found his foot rooted to the trail. He glanced down and saw that he stood in a fresh deposit of frozen red. There was red ice on his torn pants leg and on the moccasin beneath. With a quick effort he broke the frozen clutch of his blood and hobbled along the trail to the sled. The big leader that had bitten him began snarling and lunging, and was followed in this conduct by the whole team. Моргансон чаналари ёнига қайтиб бормоқчи бўлди-ю, бироқ ўрнидан жилолмади: оёғи ерга ёпишиб қолибди. Қараса, оёғи музлаган қизил кўлмакда турганини кўрди. Бир силташ билан бу алвон муз кишандан халос бўлди ва чаналар томон ошиқди. Баҳайбат йўлбошчи ириллаб олдинга талпинар, бутун тўда унга тақлид қиларди.

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.

“Қўрғонча” молхонасидаги мистер Жонс оқшом тушиши билан товуқхонасини тамбалаб қўйди, бироқ, у шу қадар маст эдики, девордаги тешикни беркитиш ёдидан кўтарилди. Орқа эшикни оёғи билан туртиб ёпгач, у қўлида силтаниб турган фонуси ёритган ерларда каловланиб, бироз тентиради, кейин ошхонадаги бочкадан бир стакан пивони сиздириб ичди ва хотини Жонс хоним хуррак отаётган тўшакнинг бир четига кирди.

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. Майор аллақачон омбор охиридаги ўзининг пичан ғарамидан қилинган юксак тахтида, тўсинга осилган чироқ остида оломонни кутиб турарди. У ўн икки ёшда бўлиб, охирги пайтларда бўйига эмас, энига кўпроқ кенгайган эди, барибир, қўрқинч соладиган сўйлоқ тишларига қарамасдан, аввалгидай олийжаноб чўчқалигича қолган, кўзларидан донишмандлик ва меҳр нури таралиб турарди. Ҳамма ҳайвонлар тўплангунча, ҳар бири ўз таъбига монанд жой топиб ўтиргунча, анча кўп вақт ўтди. Биринчи бўлиб учта кўппак — Блюбелл, Жесси ва Пинчер келди, унинг ортидан чўчқалар киришди ва тепалик ёнидаги пичан устидан жой олишди. Товуқлар дераза пештахталарига жойлашдилар, кабутарлар потирлашиб, том остидаги тўсинларга тизилишди, қўйлар ва сигирлар эса дарҳол чўчқаларнинг ёнига ўзларини ташладилар ва пичан чайнашга тушдилар.
"Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face it: our lives are miserable, laborious, and short. We are born, we are given just so much food as will keep the breath in our bodies, and those of us who are capable of it are forced to work to the last atom of our strength; and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end we are slaughtered with hideous cruelty. No animal in England knows the meaning of happiness or leisure after he is a year old. No animal in England is free. The life of an animal is misery and slavery: that is the plain truth. Шундай қилиб, дўстлар, биз ва сизнинг тириклимиздан нима маъно бор? Келинглар, ҳақиқатнинг юзига тик қарайлик: қисқа ҳаётимизнинг ҳар бир куни хўрликда ва заҳматли меҳнатда ўтади. Туғилган, дунёга келган дақиқамиздан бошлаб, бизга ҳаётимиз тугаб қолмайдиган даражадагина овқат беришади, етарли кучи бор ҳайвонлар энг сўнгги нафасигача ишлаши керак; одатда, биз ҳеч нарсага ярамай, ҳеч кимга керак бўлмай қолганимизда, бизни шафқатсизларча кушхонага равона қилишади. Бир йилни ўтказган бирорта ҳайвон бу Англияда бахт нималигини ёки меҳнатдан кейин дам олиш қандай бўлишини билмайди. Англияда бирор-бир ҳайвон эрк нима эканини англамайди. Ҳаётимиз — қашшоқлик ва қулликдир. Ҳақиқат шудир.
individual user number (hereinafter — IUN) — a unique code assigned to the clearing participant; фойдаланувчининг индивидуал рақами (бундан буён матнда ФИР деб юритилади) — клиринг иштирокчисига бериладиган махсус хос рақам;
clearing participant — a client of a crypto-exchange who has sent an acceptance and registered in the SCH in accordance with the procedure established by these Regulations; клиринг иштирокчиси — акцепт йўллаган ва мазкур Қоидаларда белгиланган тартибда ҲККПда рўйхатдан ўтган крипто-биржа мижози;
trading participants — clients admitted by the crypto-exchange to trading in crypto-assets; савдолар иштирокчилари — крипто-биржа томонидан крипто-активлар савдоларида қатнашишга рухсат этилган мижозлар;
determination of the requirements and obligations for trading participants based on the results of transactions with crypto-assets, as well as ensuring the execution of these transactions; крипто-активлар билан битимлар тузилиши натижасида савдолар иштирокчиларининг мажбурият ва талабларини белгилаш, шунингдек ушбу битимларнинг ижросини таъминлаш;