"She said she would dance with me as long as I gave her some red roses," shouted a young student, "but there isn't even a red rose in my garden."
The nightingale heard the sound in her nest on the sacred oak tree. She leaned out of the green leaves and looked around.
"I can't find red roses in my garden," he cried, his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Well, don't happiness depends on such a little thing! I have read all the articles written by wise men, and all the mysteries of knowledge are in my mind. However, because of the lack of a red rose, I have to live in pain. "
"There is a real lover here at last," the nightingale said to herself. "Although I don't know him, I will sing for him every night, and I will tell his story to the stars every night. Now I finally meet him. His hair is as black as hyacinthus orientalis flowers and his lips are as red as the roses he wants. But the emotional torture made him as pale as ivory, and the mark of sadness climbed on his forehead. "
"The prince will have a ball tomorrow night," the young student muttered. "The person I love is leaving. If I send her a red rose, she will dance with me until dawn; If I send her a red rose, I can hug her waist, she will rest her head on my shoulder, and her hand will be in mine. But there are no red roses in my garden, so I can only sit there alone and watch her pass by. She won't notice me, and my heart will break. "
"This is really a true lover," said the nightingale. "I sang about his suffering, and I am glad that he is suffering. Love is really a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds and more exotic than opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot be exchanged, can't be bought in the market, can't be bought from merchants, and can't be weighed in gold. "
"Musicians will sit in their corridors," said the young student, "and play their stringed instruments. My love will dance to the music of the harp and violin. She danced so easily and happily that her heels didn't touch the floor. Servants in splendid clothes surrounded her in the middle. However, she just won't dance with me because I have no red roses for her. " So he threw himself on the grass, buried his face in his hands and burst into tears.
"Why is he crying?" Asked a little green lizard as it ran past him with its tail up.
"Yes, why on earth?" A butterfly said that she danced after a ray of sunshine.
"Yes, why on earth?" A daisy whispered to her neighbor.
"He cried for a red rose." The nightingale told everyone.
"For a red rose?" They cried. "It's so funny!" The little lizard said that she was cynical and couldn't help laughing.
But only the nightingale knows why the students are sad. She sat quietly in the oak tree, imagining the mystery of love.
Suddenly, she spread her brown wings and flew into the air. She flew over the grove like a shadow and over the garden like a shadow.
There is a beautiful rose tree in the middle of the grass. When she saw the tree, she flew towards it and landed on a twig.
"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing my sweetest song for you."
But the tree shook its head.
"My rose is white," it replied, "as white as the foam of the sea and whiter than the snow on the top of the mountain. But you can go to my brother who lives on the ancient sundial. Maybe he can meet your needs. "
So the nightingale flew to the rose tree beside the ancient sundial.
"Give me a red rose," she said loudly, "and I will sing my sweetest song for you."
But the tree shook its head.
"My rose is yellow," it replied, "as yellow as the hair of a mermaid sitting on the amber throne, and even yellower than the daffodils that opened on the grass before the mower with a sickle came. But you can go to my brother who grows under the student window. Maybe he can meet your needs. "
So I stayed overnight and flew to the rose tree growing under the student window.
"Give me a red rose," she said loudly, "and I will sing my sweetest song for you."
But the tree shook its head.
"My rose is red," it replied. "It's as red as a pigeon's foot, and redder than a coral fan fluttering in an ocean cave. But winter froze my blood vessels, frost and snow destroyed my buds, and the storm blew off my branches and leaves. I won't have any roses this year. "
"I just want a rose," cried the nightingale. "Just a red rose! Can't I get it? "
"I have an idea," the tree replied, "but it's too terrible for me to tell you."
"Tell me," said the nightingale, "I'm not afraid."
"If you want a red rose," said the tree, "you must make it with music in the moonlight and dye it with the blood in your chest. You must stick your chest on my thorn to sing. You have to sing for me all night, that thorn must penetrate your chest, and your blood must flow into my veins and become my blood. "
The nightingale cried, "It's really expensive to exchange death for a rose." "Life is precious to everyone. It is a pleasure to sit on the green tree and watch the sun driving her golden carriage and the moon driving her pearl carriage. Hawthorn is fragrant, so are campanula in the valley and heather in full bloom on the mountain. However, love is better than life. Besides, how can a bird's heart compare with a man's? "
So she spread her brown wings and flew into the air. She flew over the garden like a shadow and walked through the Woods like a shadow.
The young student is still lying on the grass, just like when she left, with tears in her beautiful eyes.
"Be happy," cried the nightingale. "Be happy, you will get your red rose. I want to make it with music in the moonlight and dye it with blood in my chest. I only ask you to repay me one thing, that is, you should be a true lover, because although philosophy is smart, love is smarter than her, although power is great, love is greater than him. The flame dyed the wings of love red and made his body as red as a flame. His lips are as sweet as honey; His breath is as fragrant as frankincense. "
The student looked up from the grass and listened attentively, but he didn't understand what the nightingale was telling him, because he only knew what was written in the book.
But the oak tree knew that he felt very sad, because he loved the little nightingale that built its nest on his branch very much.
"Sing me one last song," he said softly. "I will feel lonely when you leave."
So the nightingale sang a song to the oak tree, and her voice was like boiling water in a silver jar.
As soon as her singing stopped, the students stood up from the grass and took out notebooks and pencils from their pockets.
"She looks beautiful," he said to himself, and then walked away through the Woods. "There is no denying this; But does she have feelings? I'm afraid she didn't. In fact, like most artists, she only pays attention to form and has no sincerity. She won't make sacrifices for others. She only thinks about music. Everyone knows that art is selfish. But I have to admit that she also has some beautiful tunes when she sings Shen. Unfortunately, they are meaningless and have no practical benefits. " He walked into the room, lay in a simple little bed, thinking about his beloved, and soon fell asleep.
When the moon was hanging in the sky, the nightingale flew to the rose tree and stood against the thorns with her chest. She sang all night with a thorn in her chest, and Mingyue Lian was as cold as crystal, bent down to listen. She sang all night, her chest was getting deeper and deeper, and her blood was almost flowing out.
She began to sing the budding love between boys and girls. An unusual rose blooms on the highest branch of the rose tree, singing one after another, and the petals bloom one by one. At first, the flowers were milky white, just like the mist hanging on the river-as white as the feet in the morning and as white as the wings in the dawn. Roses in full bloom on the highest branch are like roses reflected in a silver mirror and a pool.
At this moment, however, the tree called out to the nightingale and asked her to tie the thorn tighter. "Hold on tight, little nightingale," cried the tree, "or it will be dawn before the roses are finished."
So the nightingale pressed the thorn tighter, and her singing became louder and louder, because she sang the excitement born in the hearts of a pair of adult men and women.
A faint blush climbed up the rose petals, just like the blush on the groom's face when he kissed the bride. But the thorn has not yet stabbed the nightingale's heart, so the rose's heart is still white, because only the blood in the nightingale's heart can dye the rose's heart red.
Then the tree called to the nightingale to hold the tree tighter. "Tighter, little nightingale," cried the tree, "otherwise, it will be dawn before the roses are finished."
So the nightingale pricked the rose tighter, stabbed the heart, and a sharp pain hit the whole body. The pain is getting worse and worse, and the song is getting stronger and stronger, because she sings the love that is completed by death and the immortal love in the grave.
Finally, this extraordinary rose turned crimson, just like Xia Hong in the eastern sky. The outer ring of the petals is deep red, and the flower heart is more red like a ruby.
However, the nightingale's song is getting weaker and weaker. Her pair of little wings began to beat, and a layer of fog film climbed into her eyes. Her singing weakened, and she felt her throat was blocked by something.
Then she sang the last song. The bright moon listens to the song and forgets the dawn, just wandering in the sky. The red rose was ecstatic when she heard this song, and opened all the petals to welcome the cool morning breeze. The echo brought the song back to the purple cave in his mountain and awakened the sleeping shepherd boy from his sleep. The song floats over the reeds in the river, and the reeds transmit the sound to the sea.
"Look, look!" The tree cried, "The rose has grown up." But the nightingale didn't answer, because she lay dead in the tall grass and stabbed her heart.
At noon, the students opened the window and looked out.
"Oh, what luck!" He shouted, "Here is a red rose! I have never seen such roses in my life. It's so beautiful that I dare say it has a long Latin name. " He bent down to take it off.
Then he put on his hat, picked up the rose and ran to the professor's house.
The professor's daughter is sitting at the door, spinning blue silk thread on the spinning wheel, and her dog is lying at her feet.
"You said you would dance with me as long as I gave you a red rose," the student said loudly. "This is the reddest rose in the world. Put it on your chest tonight, and it will tell you how much I love you when we dance together. "
However, the girl frowned.
"I'm afraid it doesn't match my dress," she replied. "In addition, the minister's nephew gave me some precious jewels. Everyone knows that jewelry is more valuable than flowers. "
"Oh, I must say, you are an ungrateful person," the student said angrily. Suddenly threw the rose into the street, the rose fell into the gutter, and a carriage ran over it.
"Ungrateful!" The girl said, "I tell you, you are too rude;" Besides, what are you? Just a student. Ah, I dare say you won't have silver buttons on your shoes like the nephew of a court minister. " Then she got up from her chair and walked towards the house.
"How stupid love is!" As they walked, the students said, "It's not half as useful as logic, because it can't prove anything. It always tells people something that won't happen and makes people believe something untrue. Honestly, it's not practical at all. In those days, everything should be practical. I want to go back to philosophy and learn metaphysics. "
So he went back to his room, took out a big dusty book and began to read.
Reaction to a book or an article
I saw some works by Wilde the other day, called "Wilde's masterpiece: The Nightingale and the Rose". I found that all the fairy tales written by Wilde were based on the actual situation. For example, in The Selfish Giant, although the giant is fake, in the end, the giant dies of old age, which we can understand as real. Different from the fairy tales written by Calvino, Wilde's works always have happy endings, such as the marriage of a prince and a princess.
I saw an anecdote of Wilde, which read: "It was still summer, and I met it when I was drinking tea in the castle. The duchess took out a blooming rose from a big vase. She smelled the roses and handed them down in turn. These flowers are fragrant and bright, which fascinates everyone. In Wilde's hands, the sunshine came in directly from the window, and the flowers were more delicate. The poet sniffed the flowers violently, but suddenly, he tore up the petals and threw them out of the window! Anger broke out in the hall at his rude behavior. Faced with people's dissatisfaction, Wilde said, "Don't you feel too sad to see a rose wither?" People were suddenly speechless. "
It can be seen from this passage that Wilde is still a man who does not hesitate to do things. Wilde will treat others and things he appreciates very much in a different way of thinking, and his thoughts will not be attached to such things forever.
In The Nightingale and the Rose, the author was sure when writing that the nightingale arranged directly in the story should sacrifice himself for a man's desire to give his sweetheart a red rose. Wilde didn't think that if readers read my work, they wouldn't like it, or they would think it was a complete tragedy ... he didn't even think about it. He just thinks about how to write to satisfy himself.
He is also a very eccentric person. In that anecdote, he suddenly tore up a beautiful rose. Most people certainly don't know why, so they are very angry. That's why I think he's weird. For example, in The Nightingale and the Rose, why did Wilde arrange for the nightingale in the story to die for a man? Why did the man happily ask the woman to dance with him, but the woman refused? So didn't the nightingale sacrifice her life for nothing? Finally, both men and women are unhappy. The woman thinks that the man thinks her status is too low, and the man thinks that the woman has broken her promise. He promised to dance with her if he gave her a red rose. I never knew how to understand Wilde's thoughts.
Why can't it be a happy ending? A prince and a princess don't have to get married, as long as no one dies in vain!