友情提示:如果本网页打开太慢或显示不完整,请尝试鼠标右键“刷新”本网页!阅读过程发现任何错误请告诉我们,谢谢!! 报告错误
聚奇塔 返回本书目录 我的书架 我的书签 TXT全本下载 进入书吧 加入书签

安徒生童话-第239部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!



hes them from the branches of themimosa。 The luxuriant herbage is trampled down; crushed by the feet ofelephants。 A troop of negroes are returning from a market in theinterior of the land: the women; with copper buttons in their blackhair; and decked out in clothes dyed with indigo; drive theheavily…laden oxen; on whose backs slumber the naked black children。 Anegro leads a young lion which he has brought; by a string。 Theyapproach the caravan; the young merchant sits pensive andmotionless; thinking of his beautiful wife; dreaming; in the land ofthe blacks; of his white lily beyond the desert。 He raises his head;and… 〃 But at this moment a cloud passed before the Moon; and thenanother。 I heard nothing more from him this evening。

TWENTY…FIRST EVENING

〃I saw a little girl weeping;〃 said the Moon; 〃she was weepingover the depravity of the world。 She had received a most beautifuldoll as a present。 Oh; that was a glorious doll; so fair and delicate!She did not seem created for the sorrows of this world。 But thebrothers of the little girl; those great naughty boys; had set thedoll high up in the branches of a tree and had run away。

〃The little girl could not reach up to the doll; and could nothelp her down; and that is why she was crying。 The doll must certainlyhave been crying too; for she stretched out her arms among the greenbranches; and looked quite mournful。 Yes; these are the troubles oflife of which the little girl had often heard tell。 Alas; poor doll!it began to grow dark already; and suppose night were to e onpletely! Was she to be left sitting on the bough all night long?No; the little maid could not make up her mind to that。 'I'll staywith you;' she said; although she felt anything but happy in her mind。She could almost fancy she distinctly saw little gnomes; with theirhigh…crowned hats; sitting in the bushes; and further back in the longwalk; tall spectres appeared to be dancing。 They came nearer andnearer; and stretched out their hands towards the tree on which thedoll sat; they laughed scornfully; and pointed at her with theirfingers。 Oh; how frightened the little maid was! 'But if one has notdone anything wrong;' she thought; 'nothing evil can harm one。 Iwonder if I have done anything wrong?' And she considered。 'Oh; yes! Ilaughed at the poor duck with the red rag on her leg; she limped alongso funnily; I could not help laughing; but it's a sin to laugh atanimals。' And she looked up at the doll。 'Did you laugh at the ducktoo?' she asked; and it seemed as if the doll shook her head。〃

 TWENTY…SECOND EVENING

〃I looked down upon Tyrol;〃 said the Moon; 〃and my beams causedthe dark pines to throw long shadows upon the rocks。 I looked at thepictures of St。 Christopher carrying the Infant Jesus that are paintedthere upon the walls of the houses; colossal figures reaching from theground to the roof。 St。 Florian was represented pouring water on theburning house; and the Lord hung bleeding on the great cross by thewayside。 To the present generation these are old pictures; but I sawwhen they were put up; and marked how one followed the other。 On thebrow of the mountain yonder is perched; like a swallow's nest; alonely convent of nuns。 Two of the sisters stood up in the towertolling the bell; they were both young; and therefore their glancesflew over the mountain out into the world。 A travelling coach passedby below; the postillion wound his horn; and the poor nuns lookedafter the carriage for a moment with a mournful glance; and a teargleamed in the eyes of the younger one。 And the horn sounded faint andmore faintly; and the convent bell drowned its expiring echoes。〃

 TWENTY…THIRD EVENING

Hear what the Moon told me。 〃Some years ago; here in Copenhagen; Ilooked through the window of a mean little room。 The father and motherslept; but the little son was not asleep。 I saw the flowered cottoncurtains of the bed move; and the child peep forth。 At first I thoughthe was looking at the great clock; which was gaily painted in redand green。 At the top sat a cuckoo; below hung the heavy leadenweights; and the pendulum with the polished disc of metal went toand fro; and said 'tick; tick。' But no; he was not looking at theclock; but at his mother's spinning wheel; that stood justunderneath it。 That was the boy's favourite piece of furniture; but hedared not touch it; for if he meddled with it he got a rap on theknuckles。 For hours together; when his mother was spinning; he wouldsit quietly by her side; watching the murmuring spindle and therevolving wheel; and as he sat he thought of many things。 Oh; if hemight only turn the wheel himself! Father and mother were asleep; helooked at them; and looked at the spinning wheel; and presently alittle naked foot peered out of the bed; and then a second foot; andthen two little white legs。 There he stood。 He looked round once more;to see if father and mother were still asleep… yes; they slept; andnow he crept softly; softly; in his short little nightgown; to thespinning wheel; and began to spin。 The thread flew from the wheel; andthe wheel whirled faster and faster。 I kissed his fair hair and hisblue eyes; it was such a pretty picture。

〃At that moment the mother awoke。 The curtain shook; she lookedforth; and fancied she saw a gnome or some other kind of littlespectre。 'In Heaven's name!' she cried; and aroused her husband in afrightened way。 He opened his eyes; rubbed them with his hands; andlooked at the brisk little lad。 'Why; that is Bertel;' said he。 And myeye quitted the poor room; for I have so much to see。 At the samemoment I looked at the halls of the Vatican; where the marble gods areenthroned。 I shone upon the group of the Laocoon; the stone seemedto sigh。 I pressed a silent kiss on the lips of the Muses; and theyseemed to stir and move。 But my rays lingered longest about the Nilegroup with the colossal god。 Leaning against the Sphinx; he lies therethoughtful and meditative; as if he were thinking on the rollingcenturies; and little love…gods sport with him and with thecrocodiles。 In the horn of plenty sat with folded arms a little tinylove…god; contemplating the great solemn river…god; a true pictureof the boy at the spinning wheel… the features were exactly thesame。 Charming and life…like stood the little marble form; and yet thewheel of the year has turned more than a thousand times since the timewhen it sprang forth from the stone。 Just as often as the boy in thelittle room turned the spinning wheel had the great wheel murmured;before the age could again call forth marble gods equal to those heafterwards formed。

〃Years have passed since all this happened;〃 the Moon went on tosay。 〃Yesterday I looked upon a bay on the eastern coast of Denmark。Glorious woods are there; and high trees; an old knightly castlewith red walls; swans floating in the ponds; and in the backgroundappears; among orchards; a little town with a church。 Many boats;the crews all furnished with torches; glided over the silentexpanse… but these fires had not been kindled for catching fish; foreverything had a festive look。 Music sounded; a song was sung; andin one of the boats the man stood erect to whom homage was paid by therest; a tall sturdy man; wrapped in a cloak。 He had blue eyes and longwhite hair。 I knew him; and thought of the Vatican; and of the groupof the Nile; and the old marble gods。 I thought of the simple littleroom where little Bertel sat in his night…shirt by the spinning wheel。The wheel of time has turned; and new gods have e forth from thestone。 From the boats there arose a shout: 'Hurrah; hurrah forBertel Thorwaldsen!'〃

 TWENTY…FOURTH EVENING

〃I will now give you a picture from Frankfort;〃 said the Moon。〃I especially noticed one building there。 It was not the house inwhich Goethe was born; nor the old Council House; through whose gratedwindows peered the horns of the oxen that were roasted and given tothe people when the emperors were crowned。 No; it was a private house;plain in appearance; and painted green。 It stood near the old Jews'Street。 It was Rothschild's house。

〃I looked through the open door。 The staircase was brilliantlylighted: servants carrying wax candles in massive silvercandlesticks stood there; and bowed low before an old woman; who wasbeing brought downs
返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 1 1
未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
温馨提示: 温看小说的同时发表评论,说出自己的看法和其它小伙伴们分享也不错哦!发表书评还可以获得积分和经验奖励,认真写原创书评 被采纳为精评可以获得大量金币、积分和经验奖励哦!