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夜鶯與玫瑰 The Nightingale and the Rose

所屬教程:快樂王子

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2017年10月10日

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"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses," cried the young Student, "but in all my garden there is no red rose."

“她說只要我送她一些紅玫瑰,她就愿意與我跳舞,”那個年輕學(xué)生大聲的說,“但是我的花園里一只紅玫瑰也沒有。”

From her nest in the oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and she looked out through the leaves and wondered.

住在橡樹上的夜鶯聽到了他的話,她透過葉子向這邊張望。

"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made wretched."

“我花園里沒有紅玫瑰!”年輕學(xué)生哭訴著,他美麗的眼睛里噙滿了淚水。“難道幸福要依靠這樣的小事!我博覽群書,上知天文下知地理,居然因?yàn)槿鄙僖恢患t玫瑰而讓我的人生如此痛苦!”

"Here at last is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "Night after night have I sung of him, though I knew him not: night after night have I told his story to the stars and now I see him. His hair is dark as the hyacinth(1)-- blossom, and his lips are red as the rose of his desire; but passion has made his face like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her seal upon his brow."

“終于這兒有了真正的戀人,”夜鶯說。“雖然我們并不認(rèn)識,但是我整夜整夜的為他歌唱。我整夜整夜向星星講述他的故事,如今我終于見到了他。他的頭發(fā)烏黑的像綻放的風(fēng)信子一樣,他的嘴唇紅的像他渴望的紅玫瑰一樣;但是感情讓他的面孔蒼白無力,憂傷的痕跡爬上他的眉梢。”

"The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night," murmured the young student, "and my love will be of the company. If I bring her a red rose she will dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose, I should hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder, and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break."

“明天晚上王子將要召開舞會,”年輕的學(xué)生喃喃的說,“我心愛的姑娘將會參加。如果我送給她一只紅色的玫瑰,那么她就會和我一起跳舞到天明。如果我送給她一只紅色的玫瑰,我可以把她摟在懷里,她的頭靠著我的肩膀,我們十指緊扣。但是我的花園里沒有一只紅色玫瑰,我只能一個人坐在這里,看著她從我身旁走過。她也不會注意到我,注意到這個傷透了心的我。”

"Here, indeed, is the true lover," said the Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers: what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds(2), and dearer than fine opals(3) . Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the market-place. It may not be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed out in the balance for gold."

“這的確是真正的戀人,”夜鶯說。“我唱的歌,訴說著他的遭遇,我所有的歡樂,確實(shí)他的痛苦。當(dāng)然愛是件多么美好的事情。她比綠寶石還要珍貴,比最好的蛋白石還要稀奇。珍珠和石榴無法與她媲美,市場上絕不會出售。商人那里買不到,黃金也不能與她交換。”

"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the young Student, "and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their gay dresses will throng round her. But with me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to give her:" and he flung himself down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.

“樂師們坐在走廊里,”年輕的學(xué)生說,“他們演奏者管弦樂器,我心愛的姑娘在豎琴和小提琴的伴奏下翩翩起舞。她舞的那么輕盈,仿佛她的雙腳不曾碰觸地面,身著鮮艷禮服的朝臣們圍繞在她身邊,爭先恐后的與她共舞,但是她卻不肯與我跳舞,因?yàn)槲覜]有送給她紅色的玫瑰。”他爬在草地上,雙手捂著臉,縱聲哭泣。

"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the air.

“他為什么哭泣?”一直尾巴高高翹起的綠色小蜥蜴跑過他的身邊的時候,問道。

"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a sunbeam.

“到底是為什么?”一只飛舞在日光下的蝴蝶也跟著發(fā)問。

"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low voice.

“是啊,為什么呢?”雛菊用柔軟低沉的聲音小聲的問著她的鄰居。

"He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightingale.

“他是在為一只紅色玫瑰而哭泣,”夜鶯回答了大家的問題。

"For a red rose?" they cried: "how very ridiculous!" and the little Lizard, who was something of a cynic , laughed outright.

“為一只紅色玫瑰?”他們大聲喊道:“真是太可笑!”喜歡嘲諷別人的小蜥蜴直接笑了出來。

But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student’s sorrow, and she sat silent in the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of Love.

但是夜鶯明白學(xué)生憂傷的原因,她靜靜的坐在橡樹上,思考著愛情的神秘。

Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She passed through the grove like a shadow and like a shadow she sailed across the garden.

突然她張開她那褐色的翅膀飛向空中。她像影子一樣穿過小樹林,又像影子一般飛躍花園。

In the center of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.

在一塊草地的中央有一顆美麗的玫瑰樹,當(dāng)她看到那棵樹的時候,她便飛過去落在樹枝上。

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

“給我一只紅色的玫瑰,”她大聲的喊道,“我會為你歌唱最美妙的歌曲。”

But the Tree shook its head.

但是玫瑰樹搖了搖頭。

"My roses are white," it answered; "as white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. But go to my brother who grows round the old sun-dial(4) , and perhaps he will give you what you want."

“我的玫瑰都是白色的,”它回答說,“白的像海上的浪花,比高山上的雪還要白。不過我的兄弟長在古老日昝儀周圍,或許他能給你你想要的。”

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round the old sun-dial.

于是夜鶯向古老的日昝儀飛去了。

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

“給我一只紅色的玫瑰,”她大聲的喊道,“我會為你歌唱最美妙的歌曲。”

But the Tree shook its head.

但是樹搖了搖頭。

"My roses are yellow," it answered; "as yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne, and yellower than the daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the Student’s window , and perhaps he will give you what you want."

“我的玫瑰都是黃色的,”它說,“黃的像坐在琥珀寶座上美人魚的頭發(fā),比趕在割草人揮舞鐮刀之前盛開的黃水仙更加金黃。不過我的兄弟長在學(xué)生的窗戶下面,他或許能夠幫助你。”

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing beneath the Student’s window.

于是夜鶯朝長在學(xué)生窗下的玫瑰樹飛去了。

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

“給我一只紅色的玫瑰,”她大聲的喊道,“我會為你歌唱最美妙的歌曲。”

But the Tree shook its head.

但是樹搖了搖頭。

"My roses are red," it answered, "as red as the feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean-cavern. But the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my branches, and I shall have no roses at all this year."

“我的玫瑰是紅色的,”它說,“紅的像鴿子的雙腳,比海洋洞穴里不停飄動的珊瑚還要紅??墒嵌靸鰝宋业娜~脈,冰霜摧毀了我的花苞,暴風(fēng)雨奪走了我的枝丫,今年我不會開出一朵玫瑰花了。”

"One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightingale, "only one red rose! Is there no way by which I can get it?"

“我只要一朵紅色玫瑰花,”夜鶯大叫道,“就一朵!難道沒有別的辦法讓我找到一只紅色玫瑰嗎?”

"There is a way," answered the Tree; "but it is so terrible that I dare not tell it to you."

“有一個辦法,”玫瑰樹回答說,“但是那太可怕了,我不敢告訴你。”

"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not afraid."

“請告訴我,”夜鶯說,“我不害怕。”

"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart’s blood. You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your life-blood must flow into me veins, and become mine."

“如果你想要一朵紅色的玫瑰,”樹說,“你必須借助月光用音樂來鑄造,用你心臟的血液浸染它。你要用你的胸膛穿通我的刺并放聲高唱。你要為我歌唱整個夜晚,我的刺必須穿透你的心臟,你的生命之血將流入我的葉脈,成為我的血液。”

"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on the hill. Yet love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?"

“用死亡來換取一只紅色玫瑰,”夜鶯說,“生命對誰來說都是那么珍貴。坐在綠茵之中看著太陽神駕駛著他的黃金戰(zhàn)車,月亮女神坐在她珍珠馬車?yán)?。山楂樹散發(fā)著香氣,躲在山谷深處的野風(fēng)信子和開在山頂?shù)哪鲜ㄒ蚕阄稉浔???墒前。瑦矍楸壬匾?,鳥兒的心怎能與人的心相比呢?”

So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed through the grove.

夜鶯張開她褐色的翅膀飛向天空。她像影子一般掠過花園,又穿過樹林。

The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left him, and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes.

年輕的學(xué)生還躺在草地上,和她離開的時候一樣,他那美麗的眼中還滿是淚水。

"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy; you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own heart’s blood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy , though he is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are sweet as homey, and his breath is like frankincense."

“高興起來吧,”夜鶯喊道,“高興起來吧,你會得到你要的紅色玫瑰的。我會借著月光鑄造它,刺破心房用血液染紅它。我只要你為我做一件事情來報(bào)答我,你要做一個真正的戀人,雖然哲學(xué)很明智,但是愛情才是真理;盡管力量很強(qiáng)大,但是愛情能夠戰(zhàn)勝一切。七彩的火焰是愛情的羽翼,他的身軀燃燒出火焰的顏色。他的唇如蜜般甜美,他有著乳香般芬芳的氣息。”

The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could not understand what the Nightingale was saying to him, for he only knew the things that are written down in books.

學(xué)生抬頭仰望傾聽,但是他聽不懂夜鶯對他說了些什么,因?yàn)樗欢脮旧系膬?nèi)容。

But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale, who had built her nest in his branches.

但是橡樹聽的明白,他感到無比的悲傷,因?yàn)樗窒矚g這只在他樹枝上筑巢的小夜鶯。

"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall feel lonely when you are gone."

“為我唱最后一支歌吧,”他低聲說,“沒有你我會感到孤獨(dú)的。”

So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar.

于是夜鶯為橡樹唱起了歌,她美妙的聲音仿佛從銀壇里涌出的泉水。

When she had finished her song, the Student got up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-pencil out of his pocket.

當(dāng)夜鶯唱完了歌,學(xué)生起身從口袋里掏出一個筆記本和一支鉛筆。

"She had form," her said to himself, as he walked away through the grove—"that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style without any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good!" And he went into his room, and lay down on his little pallet-bed, and began to think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep.

“夜鶯唱的真是有模有樣的,” 他穿過樹林自言自語的說,“的確不可否認(rèn);可她有感情嗎?我想恐怕沒有。其實(shí),她不過和大多數(shù)的藝術(shù)家一樣,無痛呻吟。她不會為任何人犧牲自己。她想的只是音樂,沒有人不知道藝術(shù)如此自我。盡管,我不得不承認(rèn)她擁有美妙的歌喉??上н@歌聲毫無意義,也毫無用處!”年輕學(xué)生回到了房間,躺在他簡陋的小床上,想著他心愛的姑娘,不一會便進(jìn)入夢鄉(xiāng)。

And when the moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long she sang, with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper and deeper into her breast, and her life-blood ebbed away from her.

當(dāng)月亮從天空撒下銀色的光,夜鶯飛到玫瑰樹旁,用胸膛插入花刺。她插在刺上,整夜唱歌,冰冷的月亮靠在枝頭聆聽。夜鶯整夜唱著,刺陷的越來越深,她生命的血液漸漸逝去。

She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, at first, as the mist that hangs over the river—pale as the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost spray of the Tree.

她唱了一首男孩女孩初次萌生愛意的歌。在玫瑰樹最高的樹枝上開出了一朵絕妙的花,隨著歌聲,花瓣一片片的綻開。起初那花瓣是乳白色的,就像河面上的薄霧一樣-白的如清晨的足跡,白的如破曉的羽翼。那朵在最高的枝頭綻放的玫瑰,如銀鏡中倒映在水中的玫瑰花影。

But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come before the rose is finished."

然而玫瑰樹大喊著讓夜鶯刺的深一些。“再刺深點(diǎn),小夜鶯,”玫瑰樹喊著,“不然玫瑰花明天就完不成了。”

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a maid.

于是夜鶯刺的更深了,她的歌聲也越來越響亮,因?yàn)樗璩腥撕团诵闹凶躺募で椤?/p>

And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride. But the thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose’s heart remained white, for only a Nightingale’s heart’s blood can crimson the heart of a rose.

然后淡淡的紅色流入了玫瑰花瓣,就像新郎親吻他美麗新娘的嘴唇時,新郎臉頰泛起的紅暈??墒谴滩]有插入夜鶯的心臟,所以玫瑰的花心依然是白色的,只有夜鶯心臟的血才能染紅玫瑰的花心。

And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come before the rose is finished."

于是玫瑰樹繼續(xù)大喊讓夜鶯刺的更深。“再刺深點(diǎn),小夜鶯,”玫瑰樹喊著,“不讓明天紅色玫瑰沒法完成。”

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the tomb.

夜鶯刺的更深了,花刺進(jìn)入了她的心臟, 一陣的劇痛躥入全身。夜鶯痛的越來越厲害,她的歌聲越來越高亢,她在高唱死亡造就了愛情,死亡卻無法將愛情帶入墳?zāi)埂?/p>

And the marvelous rose became crimson , like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart.

染紅那支絕美的玫瑰變成了深紅色,宛若東方天空的紅霞。每朵花瓣都變成了深紅色,而花心卻像一顆紅寶石一樣。

But the Nightingale’ voice grew fainter, and her little wings began to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.

夜鶯的歌聲漸漸微弱,她的小翅膀拍打起來,眼睛越發(fā)的迷茫。她的歌聲越來越微弱,她感到幾乎無法喘息。

Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. It floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message to the sea.

于是她奮力唱了最后一首歌。明亮的月亮聆聽著歌聲,忘卻了黎明的到來,掛在天空不肯離去。紅色的玫瑰聆聽著歌聲,聽的如癡如醉,每一片花瓣綻放在冷冷的晨風(fēng)之中?;芈晫⒛歉杪晭Щ厮焦戎凶仙亩囱?,喚醒睡夢中的牧羊人。歌聲跟隨河中的蘆葦,穿過河流進(jìn)入浩瀚的海洋。

"Look, look!" cried the Tree, "the rose is finished now;" but the Nightingale made not answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in her heart.

“看,快看!”玫瑰樹大喊起來,“紅色玫瑰花完成了;”但是夜鶯沒有回答,花刺插在她的心房,她靜靜的躺在高高的草叢中,離開了塵世。

And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.

中午時分,年輕的學(xué)生打開窗子向外張望。

"Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" He cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seen any rose like it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin name;" and he leaned down and plucked it.

“天哪,我真是太幸運(yùn)啦!”他大叫道,“這居然有支紅色玫瑰!這是我這輩子見過的最與眾不同的玫瑰。它太美了,我敢說它一定有一個很長的拉丁名。”于是學(xué)生俯身摘下了它。

Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor’s house with the rose in his hand.

于是他戴起帽子,拿著玫瑰奔向了教授家。

The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and her little dog was lying at her feet.

教授的女兒正坐在門口卷著一軸藍(lán)色的絲線,她的小狗臥在腳邊。

"You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose," cried the Student. "Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it to-night next your heart, and as we dance together it will tell you how I love you."

“你說過,如果我送你一支紅色的玫瑰,你愿意和我跳舞,”年輕的學(xué)生說。“這是世界上最紅的玫瑰。你可以把它別在胸前,我們一起跳舞的時候,它會向你訴說我多么愛你。”

But he girl frowned.

但是女孩皺起了眉頭。

"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain’s nephew had sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers."

“我恐怕這花一點(diǎn)也配不上我的衣服,”她回答說,“還有大臣的侄子已經(jīng)送了我很多貨真價實(shí)的珠寶,每個人都知道珠寶遠(yuǎn)比這花兒值錢的多。”

"Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful," said the Student angrily; and he threw the rose onto he street, where it fell into the gutter , and a cartwheel went over it.

“好吧,我敢說你真是個無情無義的女人,”學(xué)生氣憤的說。然后他將紅色的玫瑰隨手丟在街上,花兒掉進(jìn)了陰溝,過往的馬車從它身上軋過。

"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, you are very rude; and, after all, who are you? Only a Student. Why, I don't believe you have even got silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain’s nephew has;" and she got up from her chair and went into the house.

“無情無義!”女孩說。“我告訴你,你真是太無理了;而且,你以為你是誰?不過是個學(xué)生。我可不相信你的鞋上也會有大臣侄子鞋上的銀扣子。”女孩從椅子上起來,回了房間。

"What a silly thing Love is!" said the Student as he walked away. "It is not half as useful as Logic, for it does not prove anything, and it is always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and study Metaphysics ."

“愛情真是件愚蠢的事情!”學(xué)生邊走邊說。“它可遠(yuǎn)比不上邏輯學(xué)的用處,因?yàn)樗鼰o法證明任何事情,只不過告訴我們一些不會發(fā)生的事情,和讓人相信事實(shí)皆為謊言。其實(shí),這才是不切實(shí)際的,在這個年代一切都要講實(shí)際。我還是回到哲學(xué)去,學(xué)那些形而上學(xué)的知識。”

So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began to read.


"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses," cried the young Student, "but in all my garden there is no red rose."

From her nest in the oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and she looked out through the leaves and wondered.

"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made wretched."

"Here at last is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "Night after night have I sung of him, though I knew him not: night after night have I told his story to the stars and now I see him. His hair is dark as the hyacinth(1)-- blossom, and his lips are red as the rose of his desire; but passion has made his face like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her seal upon his brow."

"The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night," murmured the young student, "and my love will be of the company. If I bring her a red rose she will dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose, I should hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder, and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break."

"Here, indeed, is the true lover," said the Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers: what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds(2), and dearer than fine opals(3) . Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the market-place. It may not be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed out in the balance for gold."

"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the young Student, "and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their gay dresses will throng round her. But with me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to give her:" and he flung himself down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.

"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the air.

"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a sunbeam.

"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low voice.

"He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightingale.

"For a red rose?" they cried: "how very ridiculous!" and the little Lizard, who was something of a cynic , laughed outright.

But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student’s sorrow, and she sat silent in the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of Love.

Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She passed through the grove like a shadow and like a shadow she sailed across the garden.

In the center of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

But the Tree shook its head.

"My roses are white," it answered; "as white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. But go to my brother who grows round the old sun-dial(4) , and perhaps he will give you what you want."

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round the old sun-dial.

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

But the Tree shook its head.

"My roses are yellow," it answered; "as yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne, and yellower than the daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the Student’s window , and perhaps he will give you what you want."

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing beneath the Student’s window.

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

But the Tree shook its head.

"My roses are red," it answered, "as red as the feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean-cavern. But the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my branches, and I shall have no roses at all this year."

"One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightingale, "only one red rose! Is there no way by which I can get it?"

"There is a way," answered the Tree; "but it is so terrible that I dare not tell it to you."

"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not afraid."

"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart’s blood. You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your life-blood must flow into me veins, and become mine."

"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on the hill. Yet love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?"

So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed through the grove.

The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left him, and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes.

"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy; you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own heart’s blood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy , though he is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are sweet as homey, and his breath is like frankincense."

The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could not understand what the Nightingale was saying to him, for he only knew the things that are written down in books.

But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale, who had built her nest in his branches.

"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall feel lonely when you are gone."

So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar.

When she had finished her song, the Student got up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-pencil out of his pocket.

"She had form," her said to himself, as he walked away through the grove—"that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style without any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good!" And he went into his room, and lay down on his little pallet-bed, and began to think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep.

And when the moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long she sang, with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper and deeper into her breast, and her life-blood ebbed away from her.

She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, at first, as the mist that hangs over the river—pale as the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost spray of the Tree.

But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come before the rose is finished."

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a maid.

And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride. But the thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose’s heart remained white, for only a Nightingale’s heart’s blood can crimson the heart of a rose.

And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come before the rose is finished."

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the tomb.

And the marvelous rose became crimson , like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart.

But the Nightingale’ voice grew fainter, and her little wings began to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.

Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. It floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message to the sea.

"Look, look!" cried the Tree, "the rose is finished now;" but the Nightingale made not answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in her heart.

And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.

"Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" He cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seen any rose like it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin name;" and he leaned down and plucked it.

Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor’s house with the rose in his hand.

The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and her little dog was lying at her feet.

"You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose," cried the Student. "Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it to-night next your heart, and as we dance together it will tell you how I love you."

But he girl frowned.

"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain’s nephew had sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers."

"Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful," said the Student angrily; and he threw the rose onto he street, where it fell into the gutter , and a cartwheel went over it.

"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, you are very rude; and, after all, who are you? Only a Student. Why, I don't believe you have even got silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain’s nephew has;" and she got up from her chair and went into the house.

"What a silly thing Love is!" said the Student as he walked away. "It is not half as useful as Logic, for it does not prove anything, and it is always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and study Metaphysics ."

So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began to read.


“她說只要我送她一些紅玫瑰,她就愿意與我跳舞,”那個年輕學(xué)生大聲的說,“但是我的花園里一只紅玫瑰也沒有。”

住在橡樹上的夜鶯聽到了他的話,她透過葉子向這邊張望。

“我花園里沒有紅玫瑰!”年輕學(xué)生哭訴著,他美麗的眼睛里噙滿了淚水。“難道幸福要依靠這樣的小事!我博覽群書,上知天文下知地理,居然因?yàn)槿鄙僖恢患t玫瑰而讓我的人生如此痛苦!”

“終于這兒有了真正的戀人,”夜鶯說。“雖然我們并不認(rèn)識,但是我整夜整夜的為他歌唱。我整夜整夜向星星講述他的故事,如今我終于見到了他。他的頭發(fā)烏黑的像綻放的風(fēng)信子一樣,他的嘴唇紅的像他渴望的紅玫瑰一樣;但是感情讓他的面孔蒼白無力,憂傷的痕跡爬上他的眉梢。”

“明天晚上王子將要召開舞會,”年輕的學(xué)生喃喃的說,“我心愛的姑娘將會參加。如果我送給她一只紅色的玫瑰,那么她就會和我一起跳舞到天明。如果我送給她一只紅色的玫瑰,我可以把她摟在懷里,她的頭靠著我的肩膀,我們十指緊扣。但是我的花園里沒有一只紅色玫瑰,我只能一個人坐在這里,看著她從我身旁走過。她也不會注意到我,注意到這個傷透了心的我。”

“這的確是真正的戀人,”夜鶯說。“我唱的歌,訴說著他的遭遇,我所有的歡樂,確實(shí)他的痛苦。當(dāng)然愛是件多么美好的事情。她比綠寶石還要珍貴,比最好的蛋白石還要稀奇。珍珠和石榴無法與她媲美,市場上絕不會出售。商人那里買不到,黃金也不能與她交換。”

“樂師們坐在走廊里,”年輕的學(xué)生說,“他們演奏者管弦樂器,我心愛的姑娘在豎琴和小提琴的伴奏下翩翩起舞。她舞的那么輕盈,仿佛她的雙腳不曾碰觸地面,身著鮮艷禮服的朝臣們圍繞在她身邊,爭先恐后的與她共舞,但是她卻不肯與我跳舞,因?yàn)槲覜]有送給她紅色的玫瑰。”他爬在草地上,雙手捂著臉,縱聲哭泣。

“他為什么哭泣?”一直尾巴高高翹起的綠色小蜥蜴跑過他的身邊的時候,問道。

“到底是為什么?”一只飛舞在日光下的蝴蝶也跟著發(fā)問。

“是啊,為什么呢?”雛菊用柔軟低沉的聲音小聲的問著她的鄰居。

“他是在為一只紅色玫瑰而哭泣,”夜鶯回答了大家的問題。

“為一只紅色玫瑰?”他們大聲喊道:“真是太可笑!”喜歡嘲諷別人的小蜥蜴直接笑了出來。

但是夜鶯明白學(xué)生憂傷的原因,她靜靜的坐在橡樹上,思考著愛情的神秘。

突然她張開她那褐色的翅膀飛向空中。她像影子一樣穿過小樹林,又像影子一般飛躍花園。

在一塊草地的中央有一顆美麗的玫瑰樹,當(dāng)她看到那棵樹的時候,她便飛過去落在樹枝上。

“給我一只紅色的玫瑰,”她大聲的喊道,“我會為你歌唱最美妙的歌曲。”

但是玫瑰樹搖了搖頭。

“我的玫瑰都是白色的,”它回答說,“白的像海上的浪花,比高山上的雪還要白。不過我的兄弟長在古老日昝儀周圍,或許他能給你你想要的。”

于是夜鶯向古老的日昝儀飛去了。

“給我一只紅色的玫瑰,”她大聲的喊道,“我會為你歌唱最美妙的歌曲。”

但是樹搖了搖頭。

“我的玫瑰都是黃色的,”它說,“黃的像坐在琥珀寶座上美人魚的頭發(fā),比趕在割草人揮舞鐮刀之前盛開的黃水仙更加金黃。不過我的兄弟長在學(xué)生的窗戶下面,他或許能夠幫助你。”

于是夜鶯朝長在學(xué)生窗下的玫瑰樹飛去了。

“給我一只紅色的玫瑰,”她大聲的喊道,“我會為你歌唱最美妙的歌曲。”

但是樹搖了搖頭。

“我的玫瑰是紅色的,”它說,“紅的像鴿子的雙腳,比海洋洞穴里不停飄動的珊瑚還要紅??墒嵌靸鰝宋业娜~脈,冰霜摧毀了我的花苞,暴風(fēng)雨奪走了我的枝丫,今年我不會開出一朵玫瑰花了。”

“我只要一朵紅色玫瑰花,”夜鶯大叫道,“就一朵!難道沒有別的辦法讓我找到一只紅色玫瑰嗎?”

“有一個辦法,”玫瑰樹回答說,“但是那太可怕了,我不敢告訴你。”

“請告訴我,”夜鶯說,“我不害怕。”

“如果你想要一朵紅色的玫瑰,”樹說,“你必須借助月光用音樂來鑄造,用你心臟的血液浸染它。你要用你的胸膛穿通我的刺并放聲高唱。你要為我歌唱整個夜晚,我的刺必須穿透你的心臟,你的生命之血將流入我的葉脈,成為我的血液。”

“用死亡來換取一只紅色玫瑰,”夜鶯說,“生命對誰來說都是那么珍貴。坐在綠茵之中看著太陽神駕駛著他的黃金戰(zhàn)車,月亮女神坐在她珍珠馬車?yán)?。山楂樹散發(fā)著香氣,躲在山谷深處的野風(fēng)信子和開在山頂?shù)哪鲜ㄒ蚕阄稉浔???墒前。瑦矍楸壬匾?,鳥兒的心怎能與人的心相比呢?”

夜鶯張開她褐色的翅膀飛向天空。她像影子一般掠過花園,又穿過樹林。

年輕的學(xué)生還躺在草地上,和她離開的時候一樣,他那美麗的眼中還滿是淚水。

“高興起來吧,”夜鶯喊道,“高興起來吧,你會得到你要的紅色玫瑰的。我會借著月光鑄造它,刺破心房用血液染紅它。我只要你為我做一件事情來報(bào)答我,你要做一個真正的戀人,雖然哲學(xué)很明智,但是愛情才是真理;盡管力量很強(qiáng)大,但是愛情能夠戰(zhàn)勝一切。七彩的火焰是愛情的羽翼,他的身軀燃燒出火焰的顏色。他的唇如蜜般甜美,他有著乳香般芬芳的氣息。”

學(xué)生抬頭仰望傾聽,但是他聽不懂夜鶯對他說了些什么,因?yàn)樗欢脮旧系膬?nèi)容。

但是橡樹聽的明白,他感到無比的悲傷,因?yàn)樗窒矚g這只在他樹枝上筑巢的小夜鶯。

“為我唱最后一支歌吧,”他低聲說,“沒有你我會感到孤獨(dú)的。”

于是夜鶯為橡樹唱起了歌,她美妙的聲音仿佛從銀壇里涌出的泉水。

當(dāng)夜鶯唱完了歌,學(xué)生起身從口袋里掏出一個筆記本和一支鉛筆。

“夜鶯唱的真是有模有樣的,” 他穿過樹林自言自語的說,“的確不可否認(rèn);可她有感情嗎?我想恐怕沒有。其實(shí),她不過和大多數(shù)的藝術(shù)家一樣,無痛呻吟。她不會為任何人犧牲自己。她想的只是音樂,沒有人不知道藝術(shù)如此自我。盡管,我不得不承認(rèn)她擁有美妙的歌喉??上н@歌聲毫無意義,也毫無用處!”年輕學(xué)生回到了房間,躺在他簡陋的小床上,想著他心愛的姑娘,不一會便進(jìn)入夢鄉(xiāng)。

當(dāng)月亮從天空撒下銀色的光,夜鶯飛到玫瑰樹旁,用胸膛插入花刺。她插在刺上,整夜唱歌,冰冷的月亮靠在枝頭聆聽。夜鶯整夜唱著,刺陷的越來越深,她生命的血液漸漸逝去。

她唱了一首男孩女孩初次萌生愛意的歌。在玫瑰樹最高的樹枝上開出了一朵絕妙的花,隨著歌聲,花瓣一片片的綻開。起初那花瓣是乳白色的,就像河面上的薄霧一樣-白的如清晨的足跡,白的如破曉的羽翼。那朵在最高的枝頭綻放的玫瑰,如銀鏡中倒映在水中的玫瑰花影。

然而玫瑰樹大喊著讓夜鶯刺的深一些。“再刺深點(diǎn),小夜鶯,”玫瑰樹喊著,“不然玫瑰花明天就完不成了。”

于是夜鶯刺的更深了,她的歌聲也越來越響亮,因?yàn)樗璩腥撕团诵闹凶躺募で椤?/p>

然后淡淡的紅色流入了玫瑰花瓣,就像新郎親吻他美麗新娘的嘴唇時,新郎臉頰泛起的紅暈。可是刺并沒有插入夜鶯的心臟,所以玫瑰的花心依然是白色的,只有夜鶯心臟的血才能染紅玫瑰的花心。

于是玫瑰樹繼續(xù)大喊讓夜鶯刺的更深。“再刺深點(diǎn),小夜鶯,”玫瑰樹喊著,“不讓明天紅色玫瑰沒法完成。”

夜鶯刺的更深了,花刺進(jìn)入了她的心臟, 一陣的劇痛躥入全身。夜鶯痛的越來越厲害,她的歌聲越來越高亢,她在高唱死亡造就了愛情,死亡卻無法將愛情帶入墳?zāi)埂?/p>

染紅那支絕美的玫瑰變成了深紅色,宛若東方天空的紅霞。每朵花瓣都變成了深紅色,而花心卻像一顆紅寶石一樣。

夜鶯的歌聲漸漸微弱,她的小翅膀拍打起來,眼睛越發(fā)的迷茫。她的歌聲越來越微弱,她感到幾乎無法喘息。

于是她奮力唱了最后一首歌。明亮的月亮聆聽著歌聲,忘卻了黎明的到來,掛在天空不肯離去。紅色的玫瑰聆聽著歌聲,聽的如癡如醉,每一片花瓣綻放在冷冷的晨風(fēng)之中。回聲將那歌聲帶回她山谷中紫色的洞穴,喚醒睡夢中的牧羊人。歌聲跟隨河中的蘆葦,穿過河流進(jìn)入浩瀚的海洋。

“看,快看!”玫瑰樹大喊起來,“紅色玫瑰花完成了;”但是夜鶯沒有回答,花刺插在她的心房,她靜靜的躺在高高的草叢中,離開了塵世。

中午時分,年輕的學(xué)生打開窗子向外張望。

“天哪,我真是太幸運(yùn)啦!”他大叫道,“這居然有支紅色玫瑰!這是我這輩子見過的最與眾不同的玫瑰。它太美了,我敢說它一定有一個很長的拉丁名。”于是學(xué)生俯身摘下了它。

于是他戴起帽子,拿著玫瑰奔向了教授家。

教授的女兒正坐在門口卷著一軸藍(lán)色的絲線,她的小狗臥在腳邊。

“你說過,如果我送你一支紅色的玫瑰,你愿意和我跳舞,”年輕的學(xué)生說。“這是世界上最紅的玫瑰。你可以把它別在胸前,我們一起跳舞的時候,它會向你訴說我多么愛你。”

但是女孩皺起了眉頭。

“我恐怕這花一點(diǎn)也配不上我的衣服,”她回答說,“還有大臣的侄子已經(jīng)送了我很多貨真價實(shí)的珠寶,每個人都知道珠寶遠(yuǎn)比這花兒值錢的多。”

“好吧,我敢說你真是個無情無義的女人,”學(xué)生氣憤的說。然后他將紅色的玫瑰隨手丟在街上,花兒掉進(jìn)了陰溝,過往的馬車從它身上軋過。

“無情無義!”女孩說。“我告訴你,你真是太無理了;而且,你以為你是誰?不過是個學(xué)生。我可不相信你的鞋上也會有大臣侄子鞋上的銀扣子。”女孩從椅子上起來,回了房間。

“愛情真是件愚蠢的事情!”學(xué)生邊走邊說。“它可遠(yuǎn)比不上邏輯學(xué)的用處,因?yàn)樗鼰o法證明任何事情,只不過告訴我們一些不會發(fā)生的事情,和讓人相信事實(shí)皆為謊言。其實(shí),這才是不切實(shí)際的,在這個年代一切都要講實(shí)際。我還是回到哲學(xué)去,學(xué)那些形而上學(xué)的知識。”

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