In the midst of a garden there grew a rose bush, quite covered with roses, and in the most beautiful

In the midst of a garden there grew a rose bush, quite covered with roses, and in the most beautiful of them all there lived an elf-an elf so tiny that no mortal eye could see him. But he was as well made and as perfect as any child could be, and he had wings reaching from his shoulders to his feet. Behind each petal of the rose he had a tiny bedroom. Oh, how fragrant his rooms were, and how bright and transparent the walls, for they were the beautiful pale pink petals of the rose! All day long the little elf rejoiced in the warm sunshine as he flew from flower to flower or danced on the wings of the fluttering butterflies and measured how many steps he would have to take to pass along all the roads and paths on a single linden leaf. You see, what we call the veins on a leaf were highroads and byways to him. It was a long journey, and he had begun it rather late, so before he finished, the sun had gone down!

It turned very cold, dew fell, and the wind blew, so now it was high time he went home. He hurried as fast as he could, but to his dismay he found that the rose had closed its petals for the night! Not a single rose stood open! He couldn't get in! Now, the poor little rose elf was terribly frightened, for he had never been out at night before; he had always slumbered sweetly and safely behind the warm rose petals. This would surely be the death of him!

Suddenly he remembered that at the other end of the garden there was an arbor of lovely honeysuckle, those flowers which looked like big painted horns. In one of them, perhaps, he could go down and sleep safely till morning.

Swiftly he flew to the far end of the garden. But suddenly he stopped! Quiet! There were already two people in the arbor. The loveliest maiden and a handsome young man. They sat closely together and wished they might never, never part. They loved each other, even more than the best child can love its father and mother.

"Yet we must part," the young man was saying. "Your brother doesn't like me, so he is sending me on a long journey, far over distant mountains and oceans. Farewell, my sweetest bride, for that you will always be to me!"

Then they kissed, and the young maiden wept and gave him a rose. But first she pressed on it a kiss so warm and tender that the rose petals opened, and then the little elf slipped quickly inside. As he leaned his tiny head against the delicate, fragrant walls, he could hear, "Farewell! Farewell!" and he felt that the rose was being placed on the young man's heart. Ah, how that heart beat! The little elf couldn't go to sleep for its beating!

But not long did the rose rest undisturbed on that throbbing heart. As the young man walked lonely through the dark wood he took the rose out and kissed it so often and so warmly that the little elf was almost crushed. Through the petals he could feel the young man's burning lips, while the rose itself opened as if under the strongest midday sun.

Suddenly another man appeared. It was the pretty maiden's gloomy and wicked brother! He drew out a long sharp knife, and while the young man was kissing the rose, this wicked one stabbed him to death! Then he cut off the head and buried head and body in the soft earth beneath the linden tree.

"Now he's dead and forgotten!" the evil brother thought. "He'll never come back again. He was supposed to have left on a long journey where a man might easily lose his life-and so he has lost his. No, he won't come back, and my sister won't ever dare ask me about him." Then he kicked dry leaves over the loose earth and went home in the darkness of the night.

But he was not alone, as he thought. The little elf was with him. For, as he dug the grave, a dried, rolled-up linden leaf had fallen in his hair, and the rose elf was in that leaf. Now the man's hat was placed over the leaf, and it was very dark in there where the little elf trembled in fear and anger at the wicked deed.

In the early morning, the evil man reached home. He took off his hat and went into his sister's bedroom. There lay the pretty maiden, dreaming of her beloved, whom she thought far away traveling over mountains and through the forests. The wicked brother leaned over her and laughed-the hideous laugh of a devil-and the withered leaf dropped from his hair onto her bed cover. But he didn't notice, and pretty soon he left her room to get a little sleep himself.

Now the little elf crept quietly out of the withered leaf, slipped into the ear of the sleeping girl, and told her, as in a dream, the dreadful story of the murder. He described the spot in the woods where her brother had killed her sweetheart, and the place under the linden tree where the body was buried, and then whispered, "And so that you may not think this all a dream, you will find a withered leaf of the tree on your bedspread!" And when she awoke she found the leaf.

Oh, what bitter, bitter tears she shed! Yet to no one did she dare betray her grief. All that day her window stood open, and the little elf could easily have escaped to the roses and all the other flowers of the garden, but he could not bear to leave the sorrowing girl.

In the window stood a bush that bore roses every month, and he found a spot in one of those flowers from where he could watch the poor girl. Often her brother came into the room, merry with an evil mirth, and she dared not say a word of the grief in her heart.

When night came she stole out of the house and into the forest to the place where the linden tree stood. She brushed away the leaves, dug into the earth, and so at last came to the body of her beloved. How she wept then, and how she prayed to God that she too might die! She would gladly have taken the body home with her, but since that would be impossible, she took up the pale head, with its closed eyes, kissed the cold mouth, and with a trembling hand brushed the dirt from the beautiful hair.

"This, at least, I can keep," she wept. Then she buried the body again and scattered the leaves once more over it. But the head, together with a little sprig from a jasmine bush which bloomed in the wood where he had been killed, she took with her to her home.

As soon as she reached her room she brought the biggest flowerpot she could find, and in this she laid the dead man's head, covered it with earth, and planted the sprig of jasmine.

The little elf could no longer bear to see such grief. "Farewell, farewell," he whispered, and then he flew out to his rose in the garden. But it was withered and faded now, and only a few dry leaves clung to the bush. "Alas!" sighed the elf. "How soon everything good and beautiful passes away!" But at last he found another rose, and made his home in safety behind its delicate, fragrant petals.

But every morning he would fly to the poor maiden's window, and he always found her there, weeping over the flowerpot. Softly her bitter tears fell upon the jasmine spray, and every day as she became paler and paler the sprig grew fresher and greener. New shoots appeared, one after another, and little white buds burst forth, and these she kissed.

When her wicked brother saw her do that he scolded her and asked why she acted so silly. He didn't like it and didn't understand why she was always weeping over the flowerpot. He did not know what closed eyes were there, and what red lips had there returned to dust.

And the pretty maiden leaned her head against the flowerpot, and the little elf found her there, fallen into a gentle slumber. So he crept again into her ear and whispered to her of that evening in the arbor and of the scent of the roses and the loves of the elves. Then she dreamed so sweetly, and while she dreamed her life passed gently away. She died a quiet death and was in Heaven with her beloved. And the jasmine flowers opened their big white bells and gave out their wonderful sweet fragrance. It was the only way they knew to weep for the dead.

When the wicked brother saw the beautiful blooming plant, he took it for himself as an inheritance from his sister, and put it in his bedroom close beside his bed, for it was glorious indeed to look at, and its fragrance was sweet and fresh. But the little rose elf went with it, and flew from blossom to blossom; in each lived a tiny soul, and to each he told the story of the murdered man whose head even now rested under the earth beneath them. He told them of the evil brother and the poor sister.

"We know it!" replied each little soul in the flowers. "Did we not spring from those murdered eyes and lips? We know it! We know it!" they repeated, and nodded their heads in an odd way. The rose elf could not understand how they could be so quiet about it, and he flew out to the bees gathering honey and told them the terrible story about the wicked brother. So they reported it to their Queen, and the Queen commanded all the bees to kill the murderer the very next morning.

But the night before, the first night after his sister's death, while the evil brother was asleep in his bed beside the fragrant jasmine, the flowers opened, and out of each blossom came a tiny spirit-invisible, but armed with a sharp little poisoned spear. First, they crept into his ears, and told him wicked dreams; then they flew across his lips, and pierced his tongue with their poisoned darts.

"Now we have avenged the dead man!" they cried, then flew back again into the white bells of the jasmine.

When the morning came, and the windows of the bedroom were opened, the rose elf and the whole swarm of bees with their Queen swept in to kill him.

But he was already dead, and people stood around his bed and said, "The scent of the jasmine has killed him!" Then the rose elf understood the vengeance of the flowers and told it to the Queen, and she and her whole swarm of bees ceaselessly hummed around the flowerpot and could not be driven away. When a man picked up the pot a bee stung him on the hand, so that he let it fall and it broke into pieces. Then the people saw the whitened skull and knew that the dead man on the bed was a murderer.

So the Queen bee hummed in the air and sang of the vengeance of the flowers and about the rose elf, and how behind the smallest leaf there dwells One who can disclose and repay every evil.

在花園中間有一個成長玫瑰灌木，相當佈滿玫瑰花，在最美麗的

在花園中間有一個成長玫瑰灌木，相當佈滿玫瑰花，在最美麗的他們全部住著一個精靈，一個小精靈小，所以沒有凡人的眼睛能看見他。但他也提出和完美的，因為任何兒童可能是的，他有翅膀達到從他的肩膀對他的腳。玫瑰的每一片花瓣背後，他有一個小臥室。呵呵，怎麼他的香客房，以及如何明亮，透明的牆壁，因為他們是玫瑰美麗的淡粉色的花瓣！整天在溫暖的陽光的小精靈高興，因為他從花飛到花或跳舞的蝴蝶飛舞的翅膀，測量了多少步，他將不得不採取沿著所有的道路和路徑傳遞一個單一的椴葉。你看，就是我們所說的在一片葉子的葉脈是highroads和小道給他。這是一個漫長的旅程，他已經開始了起步比較晚，所以還沒等他說完，太陽已經下去！

原來非常寒冷，露水下降，風拂過，所以現在是時候了，他就回家了。他趕緊以最快的速度，他可以，但到他的沮喪，他發現，玫瑰已經關閉了其花瓣過夜！不是一個單一的玫瑰站在開放！他不能進去！現在，可憐的小玫瑰精靈心裡嚇得要死，因為他從來沒有在晚上之前; 他一直打盹甜蜜和安全背後的溫暖的玫瑰花瓣。這肯定是他的死亡！

突然，他想起在花園的另一端有可愛的金銀花的喬木，那些看上去像大喇叭繪花。在其中的一個，也許，他可以下去，直到早晨安然入睡。

他迅速飛到花園的盡頭。但是突然他停了下來！安靜！已經有兩個人在涼棚。最可愛的少女和一個英俊的年輕男子。他們坐在一起緊密合作，並祝愿他們可能永遠，永遠的一部分。他們彼此深愛著對方，比最好的孩子更可以愛它的爸爸媽媽。

“然而，我們必須分開，”年輕人說的話。“你哥哥不喜歡我，所以他是一個漫長的旅程給我，遠在遠方的群山和海洋。再見了，我最甜蜜的新娘，為你永遠是我的！”

然後，他們親吻，和年輕的少女哭了，給了他一朵玫瑰。但首先，她就可以按下一個吻那麼溫暖和溫柔的玫瑰花瓣打開，然後將小精靈快速下滑裡面。當他湊近他的小腦袋靠在細膩，清香的牆壁，他能聽到，“永別了！永別了！” 他覺得玫瑰是被放置在年輕人的心臟。啊，怎麼說心臟跳動！小精靈無法入睡，其跳動！

但沒多久沒有玫瑰休息不受干擾上跳動的心臟。由於年輕人走過濃密的樹林走去寂寞，他拿著玫瑰出來，吻了這麼頻繁，如此熱烈的小精靈幾乎粉碎。通過花瓣，他能感覺到這個年輕人的嘴唇燃燒，而玫瑰本身打開，如果最強的正午的陽光下。

突然，另一名男子出現了。這是那個美麗的姑娘的陰沉和惡毒的弟弟！他畫了一個長的尖刀，雖然年輕的男子親吻玫瑰，這惡者刺中了他到死！然後，他砍掉了腦袋埋頭部和身體軟土的椴樹下。

“現在他已經死了，忘記了！” 邪惡的兄弟認為。“他永遠不會再回來，他本來是要留在一個漫長的旅程，其中一個人可能很容易失去自己的生命，所以他已經失去了他，不，他不會回來了，妹妹也不會再也不敢問我他的情況。“ 然後他踢了幹樹葉在鬆散土，回家在夜的黑暗。

但他並不孤單，因為他想。小精靈與他同在。因為，正如他挖墳墓，乾燥，捲起的椴葉已經倒在了他的頭髮，和玫瑰精靈在那一頁。現在，該名男子的帽子被​​放置在葉片，這是非常黑暗在那裡那裡的小精靈在顫抖恐懼和憤怒的邪惡行為。

在清晨，惡人到家。他摘下帽子，走進他的妹妹的臥室。還有躺在那個美麗的姑娘，夢想她心愛的人，其中她認為遠在旅遊山區和穿過森林。邪惡的哥哥俯身她笑了起來，在從他的頭髮魔鬼和枯萎的葉子落到她的床蓋猙獰的笑。但他沒有注意到，不一會兒，他離開了她的房間，以得到一點點自己的睡眠。

現在的小精靈躡手躡腳悄悄地出了枯葉的，陷入沉睡的女孩的耳朵，告訴她，彷彿在夢中，被謀殺的可怕故事。他形容在她哥哥殺害了她的心上人，並根據地方的椴樹那裡的屍體被埋葬，然後低聲說：樹林的地方，“所以，你可能不覺得這是一個夢，你會發現一個乾癟葉上的床罩樹！“ 而當她醒來時，她發現葉。

哦，什麼苦，苦澀的淚水，她流下！然而，對誰都沒有她不敢背叛她的悲痛。所有的這一天她的窗口開著，和小精靈可以很容易地逃到了玫瑰和花園的所有其他的花，但他捨不得離開這個傷心的女孩。

在窗口站著一個灌木叢每個月孔玫瑰，他發現從他那裡可以看這個可憐的姑娘的那些花兒一個點。往往她的哥哥走進房間，快活與邪惡的笑聲，她不敢說她的心臟悲傷的字。

夜幕降臨時，她悄悄地溜出了房子，進入森林，那裡的椴樹站立的地方。她撥開樹葉，挖入地，所以在最後來到了她心愛的身體。她再怎麼哭了，她如何向上帝祈禱，她也可能會死！她很樂意採取的身體回家陪她，但因為這是不可能的，她拿起了蒼白的頭，用它閉上眼睛，吻了冷口，並用顫抖的手拂去了美麗的頭髮的污垢。

“這，至少，我可以保持，”她哭了。然後她又埋在身體和散葉一次了它。但頭部，連同從茉莉灌木開在那裡他被殺害了木有點小枝，她帶著她到她家。

只要她達到了她的房間，她帶來了她能找到的最大的花盆，並在此她奠定了死人的頭，用土覆蓋它，並種植茉莉花的小枝。

小精靈再也不忍心看到這樣的悲傷。“再見，再見，”他低聲說，然後他飛到了他的玫瑰花園。但它枯萎，褪色現在，只有少數幹樹葉緊緊抓住灌木。“唉！” 嘆了口氣精靈。“多久一切善，美逝世！” 但最後他發現了另一個玫瑰，並提出他的家在其背後細膩芳香的花瓣安全。

但每天早上，他會飛到可憐少女的窗口，他總是發現她那裡，哭泣的花盆。她輕輕地痛苦的眼淚落在茉莉噴霧，每一天，她成了蒼白蒼白和小枝新鮮增長，更環保。新芽出現，此起彼伏，和白色的小芽迸發，而這些她吻了。

當她惡毒的弟弟看見她做到這一點，他罵她，問她為什麼敢如此愚蠢。他不喜歡它，不明白她為什麼總是哭泣的花盆。他不知道該怎麼閉著眼睛在那裡，什麼紅唇已經有回到了灰塵。

和那個美麗的姑娘靠在她的頭靠在花盆，和小精靈找到了她那裡，陷入了溫柔的睡眠。於是，他又悄悄在她耳邊低聲說，當晚在喬木和玫瑰的香味和精靈的愛給她。然後，她夢到那麼動聽，雖然她夢見她生了輕輕的走了。她死了一個安靜的死亡，在天堂與她心愛的。和茉莉花開他們的大的白色鈴鐺，給了他們精彩的芬芳。這是他們知道哭泣為死者的唯一途徑。

當邪惡的兄弟看到了美麗的盛開的植物，他把它自己作為他的妹妹繼承，並把它放在他的他的床邊靠近的臥室，因為這是光榮的的確看，它的香味是甜美清新。但小玫瑰小精靈去與它，從開花飛到花開花落; 在每個住一個微小的靈魂，每一個他告訴謀殺的人，他的頭即使是現在他們腳下的地底下休息的故事。他告訴邪惡的哥哥和姐姐可憐他們。

“我們知道了！” 在花叢中回答每個小靈魂。“難道我們沒有從那些被謀殺的眼睛和嘴唇的春天？我們知道了吧！我們知道了！” 他們多次，並以奇怪的方式低下頭。玫瑰精靈無法理解他們怎麼能這麼安靜一下吧，他飛到了採蜜的蜜蜂，並告訴他們有關惡人兄弟的可怕故事。因此，他們報告給他們的女王，王后吩咐所有的蜜蜂殺死兇手在第二天早晨。

但前一天晚上，他的妹妹去世後的第一個晚上，而邪惡的弟弟睡在他的床上芬芳茉莉旁邊，花兒開了，進出各花來到一個微小的精神，無形的，但手持尖銳的小中毒矛。首先，他們悄悄潛入他的耳朵，告訴他邪惡的夢想;然後他們穿過他的嘴唇飛過，並刺穿了他的舌頭與他們的毒害飛鏢。

“現在我們已經報了仇死的人！” 他們哭了，然後再飛回到茉莉的白色鈴鐺。

當早晨來了，臥室的窗戶也敞開了，玫瑰小精靈和蜜蜂與他們的女王全群橫掃殺了他。

但他已經死了，人站在他身邊的床，說：“茉莉的香味已經殺了他！” 然後玫瑰小精靈了解花的復仇，並告訴了女王，她和她的整個蜜蜂群不斷哼唱著周圍的花盆，不能趕走。當一個人拿起鍋一隻蜜蜂蜇了他的手，讓他掉在地上，摔成了碎片。然後，人們看到白化頭骨，知道死者在床上是個殺人犯。

於是女王蜂哼在空中唱花的復仇和大約玫瑰精靈，怎麼後面的最小葉有住一個誰能否透露，報答每一個邪惡