TheNightngaleandtheRose夜莺与玫瑰原文及译文
玛丽莲梦兔
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2021年01月19日 01:48
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The NightingaIe and the ROSe
OSCar Wilde
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From her nest in the
holm-oak tree
the Nightingale heard him, and She looked out through the
leaves, and won dered.
With tears.
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.
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have I SUng of him, though I kneW him not: ni ght after ni ght have I told
his story to the stars, and noW I See him. HiS hair is dark as the
hyacinth
-
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.
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murmured
the young StUdent,
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 shall hold her in my arms, and She Will lea n her head UPon my shoulder, and her hand Will be
CIaSPed
in mine. BUt there is no red rose in my garde n, so I shall Sit Ion ely, and She Will PaSS me
by. She Will have no heed of me, and my heart Will break.
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to me, to him is pain. SUreIy Love is a Won derful thin g. It is more PreCiOUS tha n
emeralds
, and
dearer than fine
opals. PearIS
and
POmegranateS
Cannot buy it, nor is it Set forth in the
marketplace. It may not be PUrChaSed of the mercha nts, nor can it be Weighed out in the bala nce
for gold.
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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 dan ce, for I have no red rose to give her
On the grass, and buried his face in his han ds, and Wept.
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LiZard
, as he ran PaSt him With his tail in the air.
in deed?
in deed?
DaiSy
to his n eighbour, i n a soft, I
OW
voice.
WeeP ing for a red rose,
a red rose?
BUt the Nighti ngale Un derstood the SeCret of the StUde nt's sorroW, and She Sat sile nt in
SUdde nly She SPread her broW n WingS for flight, and SOared into the air. She PaSSed
SOmeth ing of a
cynic
, IaUghed outright.
the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of Love.
through the
grove
like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed across the garden.
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In the centre of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it she flew
But the Tree shook its head.
over to it, and lit upon a spray.
upon the mountain. But go to my brother who grows round the old
sun-dial
, and perhaps he will give
you what you want.
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So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round the old sun-dial.
But the Tree shook its head.
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.
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So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing beneath the Student's window.
But the Tree shook its head.
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.
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can get it?
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your breast against a thorn. All
with your own heart's-blood. You must sing to me with
into my veins, and become mine.
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night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must
pierce
your heart, and your life-blood must flow
chariot
of gold, and the
It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his
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?
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So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She swept over the garden
The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left him, and the tears were not
like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed through the grove.
yet dry in his beautiful eyes.
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 She 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 hon ey, and his breath is like
frankincense
.
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jar.
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When She had finiShed her Song the StUdent got up, and pulled a note- book and a Iead-Pe
ncil out of his pocket.
denied to her; but has She got feeli ng? I am afraid no t. 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
no tes in her voice. What a Pity it is that they do not mean anything, or do any PraCtiCaI good.
he Wentinto his room, and lay dow n On his little pallet-bed, and bega n to thi nk of his love; and, after
a time, he fell asleep.
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And Whe n the MoonShone in the heave ns the Nighti ngale flew to the Rose-tree, and Set her
breast aga inst the thor n. All ni ght Iong She Sang With her breast aga inst the thor n, and the cold
CryStaI
Moon Iea ned dow n and liste ned. All ni ght I Ong She sang, and the thor n Went deeper and
deeper into her breast, and her life-blood
ebbed away
from her.
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She Sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And On the top-most SPray of
the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvellous 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
SiIVer as the WingS of the daw n. AS the ShadOW of a rose in a mirror of SiIver, as the ShadOW of a
rose in a Water-pool, so WaS the rose that blossomed On the top-most SPray of the Tree.
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BUt the Tree Cried to the Nightingale to PreSS
closer against the thorn.
gale,
rose is fini shed.
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So the Night in gale PreSSed closer aga inst the
thorn, and IoUder and IoUder grew her song, for She
Sang of the birth of PaSSi On in the soul of a man and a
maid.
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And a delicate
flush
of Pink Came into the
IeaVeS 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
Night in gale's heart's-blood Can
CrimSOn
the heart of a rose.
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And the Tree Cried to the Nightingale to PreSS closer against the thorn.
Nightingale,
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So the Night in gale PreSSed closer aga inst the thor n, and the thor n touched her heart, and a
fierce Pang of Pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter WaS the pain, and WiIder and WiIder grew her
song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the tomb.
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And the marvellous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the
The StUde nt looked UP from the grass, and liste ned, but he could not un dersta nd What the
BUt the Oak-tree Un derstood, and felt sad, for he WaS Very fond of the little Night in gale who
So the Nightingale Sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice WaS like Water bubbling from a SiIVer
Night in gale WaS Say ing to him, for he OnlykneW the things that are Writte n dow n in books.
had built her n est in his bran ches.
girdle of petals, and crimson as a
ruby
was the heart.
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But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and her little wings began to beat, and a
film
came
Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and
over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.
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.
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And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.
Latin
name
she was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in her heart.
like it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure it has a long
down and plucked it.
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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.
the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it tonight next your heart, and as we dance together it
will tell you how I love you.
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But the girl
frowned
.
Chamberlain
's
nephew has sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers.
ungrateful
,
into the street, where it fell into the gutter, and a
cart
-wheel went over it.
Only a Student. Why, I don't believe you have even got silver buckles to your shoes as the
Chamberlain's nephew has
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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
.
returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began to read.
夜莺与玫瑰
奥斯卡•王尔德
著，俊译
“她说过，只要我送她红玫瑰，她便会当我的舞伴。
中就独独少了那么一朵红玫瑰啊。”
”那个年轻人嗟怨着，“但整个花园
一只在栋树上筑巢起居的夜莺听到年轻人的嗟叹，好奇地从树叶缝里张看。
年轻人继续叹道：“独独少了那么一朵红玫瑰！
”泪水此刻充盈他双眼，“告诉我，所谓
幸
福，究竟是什么！读懂了孔孟之 道，探讨过生与死的奥秘又如何？就是独独少了那么一朵
红玫瑰，我
的人生完全是悲哀的！
”
“真正懂得去爱的人，看来我终于找到了，
”夜莺自语，“为了找到明白爱之真缔的人，