安徒生童话The Dryad.docx

安徒生童话The Dryad.docx

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安徒生童话TheDryad

安徒生童话：

TheDryad

　　WEaretravellingtoParistotheExhibition.

　　Nowwearethere.Thatwasajourney，aflightwithoutmagic.Weflewonthewingsofsteamovertheseaandacrosstheland.

　　Yes，ourtimeisthetimeoffairytales.

　　WeareinthemidstofParis，inagreathotel.Bloomingflowersornamentthestaircases，andsoftcarpetsthefloors.

　　Ourroomisaverycosyone，andthroughtheopenbalconydoorwehaveaviewofagreatsquare.Springlivesdownthere；ithascometoParis，andarrivedatthesametimewithus.Ithascomeintheshapeofagloriousyoungchestnuttree，withdelicateleavesnewlyopened.Howthetreegleams，dressedinitsspringgarb，beforealltheothertreesintheplace！

Oneoftheselatterhadbeenstruckoutofthelistoflivingtrees.Itliesonthegroundwithrootsexposed.Ontheplacewhereitstood，theyoungchestnuttreeistobeplanted，andtoflourish.

　　ItstillstandstoweringaloftontheheavywagonwhichhasbroughtitthismorningadistanceofseveralmilestoParis.Foryearsithadstoodthere，intheprotectionofamightyoaktree，underwhichtheoldvenerableclergymanhadoftensat，withchildrenlisteningtohisstories.

　　Theyoungchestnuttreehadalsolistenedtothestories；fortheDryadwholivedinitwasachildalso.Sherememberedthetimewhenthetreewassolittlethatitonlyprojectedashortwayabovethegrassandfernsaround.Thesewereastallastheywouldeverbe；butthetreegreweveryyear，andenjoyedtheairandthesunshine，anddrankthedewandtherain.Severaltimesitwasalso，asitmustbe，wellshakenbythewindandtherain；forthatisapartofeducation.

　　TheDryadrejoicedinherlife，andrejoicedinthesunshine，andthesingingofthebirds；butshewasmostrejoicedathumanvoices；sheunderstoodthelanguageofmenaswellassheunderstoodthatofanimals.

　　Butterflies，cockchafers，dragon-flies，everythingthatcouldflycametopayavisit.Theycouldalltalk.Theytoldofthevillage，ofthevineyard，oftheforest，oftheoldcastlewithitsparksandcanalsandponds.Downinthewaterdweltalsolivingbeings，which，intheirway，couldflyunderthewaterfromoneplacetoanother—beingswithknowledgeanddelineation.Theysaidnothingatall；theyweresoclever！

　　Andtheswallow，whohaddived，toldabouttheprettylittlegoldfish，ofthethickturbot，thefatbrill，andtheoldcarp.Theswallowcoulddescribeallthatverywell，but，“Selfistheman，”shesaid.“Oneoughttoseethesethingsone'sself.”ButhowwastheDryadevertoseesuchbeings？

Shewasobligedtobesatisfiedwithbeingabletolookoverthebeautifulcountryandseethebusyindustryofmen.

　　Itwasglorious；butmostgloriousofallwhentheoldclergymansatundertheoaktreeandtalkedofFrance，andofthegreatdeedsofhersonsanddaughters，whosenameswillbementionedwithadmirationthroughalltime.

　　ThentheDryadheardoftheshepherdgirl，JoanofArc，andofCharlotteCorday；sheheardaboutHenrytheFourth，andNapoleontheFirst；sheheardnameswhoseechosoundsintheheartsofthepeople.

　　Thevillagechildrenlistenedattentively，andtheDryadnolessattentively；shebecameaschool-childwiththerest.Inthecloudsthatwentsailingbyshesaw，picturebypicture，everythingthatsheheardtalkedabout.Thecloudyskywasherpicture-book.

　　ShefeltsohappyinbeautifulFrance，thefruitfullandofgenius，withthecrateroffreedom.Butinherheartthestingremainedthatthebird，thateveryanimalthatcouldfly，wasmuchbetteroffthanshe.Eventheflycouldlookaboutmoreintheworld，farbeyondtheDryad'shorizon.

　　Francewassogreatandsoglorious，butshecouldonlylookacrossalittlepieceofit.Thelandstretchedout，world-wide，withvineyards，forestsandgreatcities.OfallthesePariswasthemostsplendidandthemightiest.Thebirdscouldgetthere；butshe，never！

　　Amongthevillagechildrenwasalittleragged，poorgirl，butaprettyonetolookat.Shewasalwayslaughingorsingingandtwiningredflowersinherblackhair.

　　“Don'tgotoParis！

”theoldclergymanwarnedher.“Poorchild！

ifyougothere，itwillbeyourruin.”

　　Butshewentforallthat.

　　TheDryadoftenthoughtofher；forshehadthesamewish，andfeltthesamelongingforthegreatcity.

　　TheDryad'streewasbearingitsfirstchestnutblossoms；thebirdsweretwitteringroundtheminthemostbeautifulsunshine.Thenastatelycarriagecamerollingalongthatway，andinitsatagrandladydrivingthespirited，light-footedhorses.Onthebackseatalittlesmartgroombalancedhimself.TheDryadknewthelady，andtheoldclergymanknewheralso.Heshookhisheadgravelywhenhesawher，andsaid：

　　“Soyouwentthereafterall，anditwasyourruin，poorMary！

”

　　“Thatonepoor？

”thoughttheDryad.“No；shewearsadressfitforacountess”（shehadbecomeoneinthecityofmagicchanges）。

“Oh，ifIwereonlythere，amidallthesplendorandpomp！

Theyshineupintotheverycloudsatnight；whenIlookup，Icantellinwhatdirectionthetownlies.”

　　TowardsthatdirectiontheDryadlookedeveryevening.Shesawinthedarknightthegleamingcloudonthehorizon；intheclearmoonlightnightsshemissedthesailingclouds，whichshowedherpicturesofthecityandpicturesfromhistory.

　　Thechildgraspsatthepicture-books，theDryadgraspedatthecloud-world，herthought-book.Asudden，cloudlessskywasforherablankleaf；andforseveraldaysshehadonlyhadsuchleavesbeforeher.

　　Itwasinthewarmsummer-time：

notabreezemovedthroughtheglowinghotdays.Everyleaf，everyflower，layasifitweretorpid，andthepeopleseemedtorpid，too.

　　Thenthecloudsaroseandcoveredtheregionroundaboutwherethegleamingmistannounced“HereliesParis.”

　　Thecloudspiledthemselvesuplikeachainofmountains，hurriedonthroughtheair，andspreadthemselvesabroadoverthewholelandscape，asfarastheDryad'seyecouldreach.

　　Likeenormousblue-blackblocksofrock，thecloudslaypiledoveroneanother.Gleamsoflightningshotforthfromthem.

　　“ThesealsoaretheservantsoftheLordGod，”theoldclergymanhadsaid.Andtherecameabluishdazzlingflashoflightning，alightingupasifofthesunitself，whichcouldburstblocksofrockasunder.Thelightningstruckandsplittotherootstheoldvenerableoak.Thecrownfellasunder.Itseemedasifthetreewerestretchingforthitsarmstoclaspthemessengersofthelight.

　　Nobronzecannoncansoundoverthelandatthebirthofaroyalchildasthethundersoundedatthedeathoftheoldoak.Therainstreameddown；arefreshingwindwasblowing；thestormhadgoneby，andtherewasquiteaholidayglowonallthings.Theoldclergymanspokeafewwordsforhonorableremembrance，andapaintermadeadrawing，asalastingrecordofthetree.

　　“Everythingpassesaway，”saidtheDryad，“passesawaylikeacloud，andnevercomesback！

”

　　Theoldclergyman，too，didnotcomeback.Thegreenroofofhisschoolwasgone，andhisteaching-chairhadvanished.Thechildrendidnotcome；butautumncame，andwintercame，andthenspringalso.InallthischangeofseasonstheDryadlookedtowardtheregionwhere，atnight，Parisgleamedwithitsbrightmistfaronthehorizon.

　　Forthfromthetownrushedengineafterengine，trainaftertrain，whistlingandscreamingatallhoursintheday.Intheevening，towardsmidnight，atdaybreak，andallthedaythrough，camethetrains.Outofeachone，andintoeachone，streamedpeoplefromthecountryofeveryking.AnewwonderoftheworldhadsummonedthemtoParis.

　　Inwhatformdidthiswonderexhibititself？

　　“Asplendidblossomofartandindustry，”saidone，“hasunfoldeditselfintheChampdeMars，agiganticsunflower，fromwhosepetalsonecanlearngeographyandstatistics，andcanbecomeaswiseasalordmayor，andraiseone'sselftothelevelofartandpoetry，andstudythegreatnessandpowerofthevariouslands.”

　　“Afairytaleflower，”saidanother，“amany-coloredlotus-plant，whichspreadsoutitsgreenleaveslikeavelvetcarpetoverthesand.Theopeningspringhasbroughtitforth，thesummerwillseeitinallitssplendor，theautumnwindswillsweepitaway，sothatnotaleaf，notafragmentofitsrootshallremain.”

　　InfrontoftheMilitarySchoolextendsintimeofpeacethearenaofwar—afieldwithoutabladeofgrass，apieceofsandysteppe，asifcutoutoftheDesertofAfrica，whereFataMorganadisplaysherwondrousairycastlesandhanginggardens.IntheChampdeMars，however，theseweretobeseenmoresplendid，morewonderfulthanintheEast，forhumanarthadconvertedtheairydeceptivescenesintoreality.

　　“TheAladdin'sPalaceofthepresenthasbeenbuilt，”itwassaid.“Daybyday，hourbyhour，itunfoldsmoreofitswonderfulsplendor.”

　　Theendlesshallsshineinmarbleandmanycolors.“MasterBloodless”heremoveshislimbsofsteelandironinthegreatcircularhallofmachinery.Worksofartinmetal，instone，inGobelinstapestry，announcethevitalityofmindthatisstirringineveryland.Hallsofpaintings，splendorofflowers，everythingthatmindandskillcancreateintheworkshopoftheartisan，hasbeenplacedhereforshow.Eventhememorialsofancientdays，outofoldgravesandturf-moors，haveappearedatthisgeneralmeeting.

　　Theoverpoweringgreatvariegatedwholemustbedividedintosmallportions，andpressedtogetherlikeaplaything，ifitistobeunderstoodanddescribed.

　　LikeagreattableonChristmasEve，theChampdeMarscarriedawonder-castleofindustryandart，andaroundthisknickknacksfromallcountrieshadbeenranged，knickknacksonagrandscale，for