愛薇塔樂學英文

安徒生童話：The Daisy菊花

OW listen! In the country, close by the high road, stood a farmhouse; perhaps you have passed by and seen it yourself. There was a little flower garden with painted wooden palings in front of it; close by was a ditch, on its fresh green bank grew a little daisy; the sun shone as warmly and brightly upon it as on the magnificent garden flowers, and therefore it thrived well. One morning it had quite opened, and its little snow-white petals stood round the yellow centre, like the rays of the sun. It did not mind that nobody saw it in the grass, and that it was a poor despised flower; on the contrary, it was quite happy, and turned towards the sun, looking upward and listening to the song of the lark high up in the air.

The little daisy was as happy as if the day had been a great holiday, but it was only Monday. All the children were at school, and while they were sitting on the forms and learning their lessons, it sat on its thin green stalk and learnt from the sun and from its surroundings how kind God is, and it rejoiced that the song of the little lark expressed so sweetly and distinctly its own feelings. With a sort of reverence the daisy looked up to the bird that could fly and sing, but it did not feel envious. “I can see and hear,” it thought; “the sun shines upon me, and the forest kisses me. How rich I am!”

In the garden close by grew many large and magnificent flowers, and, strange to say, the less fragrance they had the haughtier and prouder they were. The peonies puffed themselves up in order to be larger than the roses, but size is not everything! The tulips had the finest colours, and they knew it well, too, for they were standing bolt upright like candles, that one might see them the better. In their pride they did not see the little daisy, which looked over to them and thought, “How rich and beautiful they are! I am sure the pretty bird will fly down and call upon them. Thank God, that I stand so near and can at least see all the splendour.” And while the daisy was still thinking, the lark came flying down, crying “Tweet,” but not to the peonies and tulips—no, into the grass to the poor daisy. Its joy was so great that it did not know what to think. The little bird hopped round it and sang, “How beautifully soft the grass is, and what a lovely little flower with its golden heart and silver dress is growing here.” The yellow centre in the daisy did indeed look like gold, while the little petals shone as brightly as silver.

How happy the daisy was! No one has the least idea. The bird kissed it with its beak, sang to it, and then rose again up to the blue sky. It was certainly more than a quarter of an hour before the daisy recovered its senses. Half ashamed, yet glad at heart, it looked over to the other flowers in the garden; surely they had witnessed its pleasure and the honour that had been done to it; they understood its joy. But the tulips stood more stiffly than ever, their faces were pointed and red, because they were vexed. The peonies were sulky; it was well that they could not speak, otherwise they would have given the daisy a good lecture. The little flower could very well see that they were ill at ease, and pitied them sincerely.

Shortly after this a girl came into the garden, with a large sharp knife. She went to the tulips and began cutting them off, one after another. “Ugh!” sighed the daisy, “that is terrible; now they are done for.”

The girl carried the tulips away. The daisy was glad that it was outside, and only a small flower—it felt very grateful. At sunset it folded its petals, and fell asleep, and dreamt all night of the sun and the little bird.

On the following morning, when the flower once more stretched forth its tender petals, like little arms, towards the air and light, the daisy recognised the bird’s voice, but what it sang sounded so sad. Indeed the poor bird had good reason to be sad, for it had been caught and put into a cage close by the open window. It sang of the happy days when it could merrily fly about, of fresh green corn in the fields, and of the time when it could soar almost up to the clouds. The poor lark was most unhappy as a prisoner in a cage. The little daisy would have liked so much to help it, but what could be done? Indeed, that was very difficult for such a small flower to find out. It entirely forgot how beautiful everything around it was, how warmly the sun was shining, and how splendidly white its own petals were. It could only think of the poor captive bird, for which it could do nothing. Then two little boys came out of the garden; one of them had a large sharp knife, like that with which the girl had cut the tulips. They came straight towards the little daisy, which could not understand what they wanted.

“Here is a fine piece of turf for the lark,” said one of the boys, and began to cut out a square round the daisy, so that it remained in the centre of the grass.

“Pluck the flower off” said the other boy, and the daisy trembled for fear, for to be pulled off meant death to it; and it wished so much to live, as it was to go with the square of turf into the poor captive lark’s cage.

“No let it stay,” said the other boy, “it looks so pretty.”

And so it stayed, and was brought into the lark’s cage. The poor bird was lamenting its lost liberty, and beating its wings against the wires; and the little daisy could not speak or utter a consoling word, much as it would have liked to do so. So the forenoon passed.

“I have no water,” said the captive lark, “they have all gone out, and forgotten to give me anything to drink. My throat is dry and burning. I feel as if I had fire and ice within me, and the air is so oppressive. Alas! I must die, and part with the warm sunshine, the fresh green meadows, and all the beauty that God has created.” And it thrust its beak into the piece of grass, to refresh itself a little. Then it noticed the little daisy, and nodded to it, and kissed it with its beak and said: “You must also fade in here, poor little flower. You and the piece of grass are all they have given me in exchange for the whole world, which I enjoyed outside. Each little blade of grass shall be a green tree for me, each of your white petals a fragrant flower. Alas! you only remind me of what I have lost.”

“I wish I could console the poor lark,” thought the daisy. It could not move one of its leaves, but the fragrance of its delicate petals streamed forth, and was much stronger than such flowers usually have: the bird noticed it, although it was dying with thirst, and in its pain tore up the green blades of grass, but did not touch the flower.

The evening came, and nobody appeared to bring the poor bird a drop of water; it opened its beautiful wings, and fluttered about in its anguish; a faint and mournful “Tweet, tweet,” was all it could utter, then it bent its little head towards the flower, and its heart broke for want and longing. The flower could not, as on the previous evening, fold up its petals and sleep; it dropped sorrowfully. The boys only came the next morning; when they saw the dead bird, they began to cry bitterly, dug a nice grave for it, and adorned it with flowers. The bird’s body was placed in a pretty red box; they wished to bury it with royal honours. While it was alive and sang they forgot it, and let it suffer want in the cage; now, they cried over it and covered it with flowers. The piece of turf, with the little daisy in it, was thrown out on the dusty highway. Nobody thought of the flower which had felt so much for the bird and had so greatly desired to comfort it.

OW聽！在國內，截止高端路線，站在一間農舍; 或許你已經過去了，看到它你自己。有一個與在它前面的彩繪木圍籬一個小花圃; 附近是一條溝，其清新的綠色銀行長出了小雛菊; 太陽照得溫馨，明亮之視為在壯觀的園林花卉，因此它蓬勃發展良好。一天早晨，它已經相當開放，它的小雪白的花瓣周圍站著的黃色中心，就像太陽的光芒。它並不介意，沒有人看到它在草地上，而且它是一個貧窮的鄙視花; 相反，它是相當高興，轉身朝著太陽，仰頭，聽雲雀高在空中的歌曲。

小菊花是那樣幸福，好像這一天一直是偉大的節日，但它是只在週一。所有的孩子都在上學，當他們坐在形式和學習他們的經驗教訓，就坐在其輕薄的綠色莖和來自太陽和它的周圍神怎麼樣的教訓，它歡喜的小的歌雲雀表達是那麼的甜美和明顯的自己的感受。懷著一種崇敬的菊花抬頭看向那個能飛，唱的鳥，但它並沒有感到羨慕。“我可以看到和聽到的，”它認為; “太陽照在我身上，林親了我。如何豐富我！“

在花園酒店附近長大許多大型和壯觀的花，說來也怪，越清香他們有haughtier和自豪，他們。牡丹膨化投案自首，以比玫瑰大，但規模並不代表一切！鬱金香有最好的顏色，他們知道得很好，也為他們在直立站在螺栓像蠟燭，人們可能看到他們的好。在他們的驕傲，他們沒有看到小菊花，這看著他們，心想：“他們怎麼富饒美麗的！我相信美麗的鳥兒就會飛過來後，他們打電話。感謝上帝，我站得那麼近，至少可以看到所有的輝煌。“雖然菊花還在想，雲雀來到飛下來，喊”鳴叫“，但沒有向牡丹，鬱金香 - 不，成草窮人菊花。它的喜悅是如此之大，它不知道在想什麼。小鳥跳上圓它，唱道：“多麼漂亮的軟草，那叫一個可愛的小花朵與金色的心臟和銀色禮服越來越大了。”菊花黃色中心的確看起來像黃金，而​​小花瓣照得亮如銀。

多麼幸福的菊花了！沒有人有最少的想法。鳥用它的喙吻了一下，唱起它，然後再次上升到藍天。這是肯定超過一刻鐘前的菊花恢復了感覺。半慚愧，但慶幸的心臟，它看起來比其他花朵的花園; 當然，他們目睹了它的樂趣，而且已經做了它的榮譽; 他們明白它的喜悅。但站在鬱金香比以往任何時候都更加僵硬，他們的臉是尖的，紅色的，因為他們是煩惱。牡丹是生氣; 它是好的，他們說不出話來，否則他們將給予菊花一個很好的演講。小花很可能會看到，他們局促不安，和憐憫他們真誠。

在這之後不久一個女孩走進花園裡，用大尖刀。她去了鬱金香，開始切斷他們，一個接一個。！“唉”嘆了口氣菊花，“這是可怕的; 現在他們正在做的。“

女孩攜帶的鬱金香了。菊花很高興，這是外面，只是一小束花，它覺得很感激。日落時它折疊它的花瓣，和睡著了，夢見太陽和小鳥的一夜。

第二天早晨，當花再次伸出它的嫩花瓣，像小武器，對空氣和光線，菊花確認的鳥叫的聲音，但它唱聽起來很悲傷。事實上，可憐的鳥兒有充足的理由難過，因為它已被捕獲並放入一個籠子附近打開的窗口。它唱的那段快樂日子何時能歡快地飛來飛去的新鮮青玉米在田間地頭，和的時候，它可能會飆升，幾乎到雲端。可憐的雲雀是最不開心的是關在籠子裡的囚犯。小菊花會喜歡這麼多的幫助，但有什麼可以做？事實上，這是非常困難的，這樣一個小的花找出來。它完全忘了周圍的一切都美好了，怎麼熱烈陽光明媚，和自己的花瓣如何漂漂白者。它只能想到可憐的俘虜鳥，為它無能為力。然後兩個小男孩走了出來花園; 其中一人有一個很大的鋒利的刀，像與該女孩已經切鬱金香。他們來了，直奔小雛菊，這可能不明白他們想要的東西。

“這裡是一個很好的一塊草皮的雲雀，說：”一個男孩，並開始切出一個方形圓形菊花，使其保持在草叢中的中心。

“摘下花關”之稱的另一個男孩，和菊花顫抖的恐懼，因為要被拉斷意味著死亡給它; 它是那麼渴望著生活，因為它是去與草皮的平方成可憐的俘虜百靈鳥的籠子。

“不讓它留下來，說：”另一個男孩，“它看起來很漂亮。”

所以它留下來，並且被帶到百靈鳥的籠子。可憐的鳥兒感嘆失去的自由，並擊敗它的翅膀對線; 和小雛菊無法說話或說不出安慰的話，就像它本來希望這樣做。所以午前通過。

“我沒有水，說：”圈養雲雀，“他們都走了出來，忘記給我任何東西喝。我的喉嚨乾燥和燃燒。我覺得如果我有火與冰內的我，空氣是那麼的壓抑。唉！我一定會死，並且部分與溫暖的陽光，清新的綠色草地，和所有上帝創造的美。“它攆它的喙成一片草地，刷新自己一點點。然後，它注意到了小雛菊，點了點頭給它，並用它的喙吻了一下，說道：“你還必須消失在這裡，小花可憐。你和一塊草地都是他們給了我換來了整個世界，這是我喜歡外面。草的每個小葉片應是綠色的樹對我來說，你的每一個白色的花瓣香花。唉！你只讓我想起了我已經失去了。“

“我希望我能安慰可憐的百靈鳥”，認為菊花。它不能動它的葉子之一，但其精緻的花瓣的芬芳流出來，是遠遠強於這種花通常有：鳥注意到了這一點，儘管它是死於乾渴，並在它的痛苦撕碎了綠色的葉片草，但沒有觸及花。

晚上來了，沒人似乎帶來了可憐的小鳥一滴水; 它打開了它美麗的翅膀，並在其痛苦振翅欲飛; 一個微弱而悲切“鳴叫，鳴叫，”一切都可能說出的話，它的彎曲對花的小腦袋，並且其心臟破裂的匱乏和嚮往。花不可能，因為對前一天晚上，折疊起來它的花瓣和睡眠; 它傷心地下降。男生只來了，第二天早上; 當他們看到了這只死鳥，他們就開始痛哭，挖了一個漂亮的墳墓吧，並用鮮花裝飾它。該鳥的屍體被放置在一個漂亮的紅色盒子; 他們希望與皇室榮譽埋葬它。雖然還活著，唱他們忘了，讓它遭受希望在籠子裡;現在，他們哭了它，並用鮮花覆蓋它。一塊草皮，與小菊花在裡面，被拋出的塵土飛揚的公路上。沒有人會想到它已經感覺到這麼多的鳥，並因此極大地想要去安慰它的花。