She once said that if I brought her red roses, she would dance with me. This is a young student talking loudly, "but I can't find red roses anywhere in my garden."
The nightingale stayed in the nest of the holy oak tree and heard his words. Through the cracks in the leaves, the nightingale looked at him curiously.
"There isn't even a red rose in my garden!" He shouted, his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Oh, my god, happiness depends on such a small thing! I have read all the books of wise men, and all the mysteries of philosophy have filled my mind, but my life is painful because of the lack of a red rose. "
"Finally, there is a person who really knows love," the nightingale said to herself. "All nights, I will sing for him, although I don't know who he is; I will tell his story to the stars in the sky all night-now I see him. His hair is as black as daffodils, and his lips are as bright as the red roses he is eager for; However, his face was as white as ivory because of too much excitement, and sadness and depression passed lightly between his brow. "
"Tomorrow night, the prince will hold a grand dance," whispered the young student. "My lover will be his partner. If I can send her a red rose, she will dance with me until dawn; If I can send her a red rose, then I can hold her gently, she will lean on my shoulder, and her little hand will be held in my palm. However, there are no red roses in my garden, so I can only sit alone and watch her leave behind me helplessly. My fragile heart will be completely broken because she doesn't care about me. "
"This is the person who really understands the true meaning of love." The nightingale said, "I want to sing about what happened to him. This is a happy thing for me, but it is endless pain for him." Love is really a wonderful thing. It is more valuable than green gemstones and much more precious than the best cat's eye. Pearl pomegranate cannot be exchanged with it, and it is not a commodity in the market. No matter how rich a businessman is, he can't afford it, and he can't weigh it in the gold balance. "
"Musicians will play touching strings in the theater," said the young student. My love will dance to the music of the harp and violin. Her dance steps are so light that her toes don't touch the ground, and flatterers in gorgeous clothes will surround her. It's a pity that she won't dance with me, because I have no red roses for her. "He sat on the grass, covered his face with his hands and began to cry.
"Why is he crying?" A little green lizard with its tail cocked high passed him and asked curiously.
"Why on earth?" Asked a butterfly dancing in the sun.
"Why on earth?" A daisy whispered to her neighbor.
"Because of a red rose." Replied the nightingale.
"A red rose?" They shouted in surprise.
"What a ridiculous thing it is." The little green lizard is outspoken, with a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
However, the nightingale can understand the secret of students' sadness. She sat quietly on the sacred oak tree, thinking deeply about the mystery and impermanence of love.
Suddenly, she spread her brown wings and flew high into the sky. She walked through the Woods like a shadow and through the garden like a shadow.
In the grass, she saw a beautiful rose tree, so she flew to him and stopped on his branch. "Give me a red rose," she pleaded loudly, "and I will sing my sweetest song for you."
But the tree shook its head.
"My rose is white," he replied, "as white as foam drifting on the sea, even whiter than the long-term snow on the top of the mountain. Go and find my brother who lives next to the ancient sundial. Maybe he will give you what you want. "
So the nightingale flew to the rose tree beside the ancient sundial.
"Give me a red rose," she pleaded loudly, "and I will sing my sweetest song for you."
But the tree shook its head.
"My rose is golden yellow," he replied. "It's as golden as the mermaid's hair sitting on the amber throne, even yellow than the daffodils blooming on the grass. Go and find my brother who lives under that student's window. Maybe he will give you what you want. "
So the nightingale flew to the rose tree under the student window.
"Give me a red rose," she pleaded loudly, "and I will sing my sweetest song for you."
"My roses are bright red," he answered. "It is as bright red as a pigeon's foot, even redder than the big coral fan shaking in the depths of the ocean. But winter froze my blood vessels, frost knocked down my new buds, and the storm broke my branches-I can't have any new roses this year. "
"All I want is a red rose," cried the nightingale sadly. "Just a red rose! Is there really nothing to do? "
"There is another road," replied the red rose, "but this road is too cruel and terrible for me to tell you."
"Tell me." The nightingale replied, "I'm not afraid."
"If you want a bright red rose," he said, "you must make it with music in the moonlight and dye it with your own efforts. When thorns touch your heart, you must sing for me. You must sing for me all night, your heart must be pierced, and the blood in your body must flow into my veins and become my blood. "
The nightingale said, "Death-how valuable this red rose is." "Life is so precious to everyone. Sitting among the green trees, watching the sun driving his golden chariot and the moon driving her pearl chariot-what a wonderful thing. The taste of hawthorn is so sweet that the blue hyacinthus orientalis hidden in the valley and the heather on the mountain are fragrant with the wind. However, love is more important than life. My heart is just the heart of a bird. How can it be compared with the human heart? "
So she spread her brown wings again and flew high into the sky. She walked through the garden like a shadow, and through the Woods like a shadow.
The young student is still lying on the lawn. The nightingale has just left his place, and the tears in his beautiful eyes are still wet.
"Be happy quickly," the nightingale shouted to him. "Be happy, you will get the red roses you want. I will make it with music in the moonlight and dye it with my own blood. What I ask you in return is that you should be a person who knows how to love, because love is smarter than smart philosophy and sharper than fierce power. Her wings are the color of flame, and her body is like flame. Her lips are as sweet as freshly brewed honey, and her breath is as tempting as frankincense. "
The young student looked up and listened quietly, but he couldn't understand what the nightingale said to him. He only knows what is written in the book.
But the old oak tree understood and was very sad. He likes this little nightingale nesting on his branch very much. "Sing me one last song," whispered the old oak tree. "I will be lonely after you leave."
So the nightingale sang the last song for the old tree. Her voice is as beautiful as boiling water in a silver jar.
When she finished singing, the young students stood up from the lawn and took out notebooks and pencils from their pockets.
"She is undoubtedly very beautiful," the young student said to himself, walking through the Woods, "but does she know what feelings are? In fact, like most artists, she only has external things and lacks sincere heart. She doesn't know how to sacrifice for others. All she can think about is music. Yes, everyone knows that art is a selfish thing. However, I still have to admit that there are some beautiful melodies in her singing. Unfortunately, they are meaningless and have no practical benefits. " Then he went into the room, lay in the cot, and began to miss his lover again. Then, then, he fell asleep.
When the bright moonlight filled the earth, the nightingale flew to the red rose tree and began to stab her little heart. She sang in the thorns all night, and even the moon, as cold as crystal, couldn't help bending down and listening attentively. She sang all night, the thorn went deep into her heart bit by bit with her singing, and the blood of her life left her bit by bit.
First, she sang the budding love between boys and girls. At the top of the tallest branch of the red rose, a wonderful rose began to be born. With song after song, the petals opened one by one. However, she was so pale at first, as pale as the fog on the river in the morning, as pale as the silver light flashing at dawn; Like a rose reflected in a silver mirror, and like a rose reflected in a pool.
The red rose tree shouted to the nightingale, "Come closer, my dear little nightingale, or the dawn will come before the roses are finished."
So the nightingale resisted the thorn harder and sang louder. This time, she sang the desire for love in the hearts of mature men and women.
Pale pink appeared on the rose petals, as pink as the blush on the groom's face after kissing the bride's lips at the wedding. But the thorn has not completely penetrated into her heart, so the flower heart of the rose is still pale, because only the deepest blood in the nightingale can dye the flower heart of the rose red.
The red rose tree shouted to the nightingale, "Come closer, my dear little nightingale, or the dawn will come before the roses are finished."
So the nightingale resisted the thorn harder, and the thorn finally pierced her heart, and a sharp pain spread all over her body like an electric current. The little nightingale is getting more and more miserable, and her singing is getting crazier and crazier, because she sings love that is perfect because of death, and love that will not die even in the grave.
Finally, the beautiful rose became as deep red as the rising sun in the east. The petals are deep red, but the heart is ruby red.
However, the nightingale's singing became weaker and weaker, and her little wings began to tremble unconsciously. Her eyes began to hallucinate, and she felt something stuck in her throat.
She sang the last song with all her might. The moon listened, forgot the dawn and stayed in the sky. The red rose trembled with joy and opened its petals in the cold air in the morning. The echo brought the song to the purple cave and awakened the shepherd from his sweet dream. Songs float in the reeds in the river, and they spread the melody to the sea.
"Look, look," cried the red rose. "Rose is finished successfully!" However, the little nightingale could no longer answer him. She died quietly on the lawn with the thorn in her chest.
At noon, the young students opened the window and looked out.
"God, what amazing luck!" He barked, "Here is a red rose! I have never seen such roses in my life. She is so beautiful, I think she must have a long Latin name. " Then he bent down and gently took it off.
He put on his hat solemnly and ran to the professor's house with red roses in his hand.
The professor's daughter is sitting in the aisle at the door spinning sky-blue silkworm yarn, and her lovely dog is meekly leaning against her feet.
"You told me that if I brought you a red rose, you would dance with me." The young student said loudly, "Look, this is the brightest red rose in the world. You can wear it on your chest, and when we hug and dance, I will point to it and tell you how much I love you. "
However, the girl frowned.
"I'm afraid this rose doesn't fit my skirt," the girl replied. "Besides, by the way, the nephew of the king's housekeeper gave me many real jewels. Everyone knows that jewelry is much more valuable than flowers. "
"Oh, you are so ungrateful," the student said angrily, and then threw the rose into the street. The rose rolled down the ditch and a carriage ran over it.
"Unappreciative? ! "Let me tell you how rude you are," said the girl. And who are you? Just a student. I don't believe you can nail beautiful silver buttons on your shoes like the nephew of the king's housekeeper. "The girl stood up from her chair and walked into the room.
"What a stupid thing love is," the student thought as he walked. "It is not half as useful as logic, because she can never prove anything; And she often says things that will never happen, which always makes people believe those hypocritical things. To tell the truth, she is of no practical use. In this era of pragmatism, I'd better go back and study my pure philosophy. "
So the young student went back to his hut, took out a thick dusty book and began to read.