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Part VI<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
And after a year was over the Soul came down to the shore of the sea and called to the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep, and said, ‘Why dost thou call to me?’<br>
<br>
And the Soul answered, ‘Come nearer, that I may speak with thee, for I have seen marvellous things.’<br>
<br>
So he came nearer, and couched in the shallow water, and leaned his head upon his hand and listened.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
And the Soul said to him, ‘When I left thee I turned my face to the East and journeyed. From the East cometh everything that is wise. Six days I journeyed, and on the morning of the seventh day I came to a hill that is in the country of the Tartars. I sat down under the shade of a tamarisk tree to shelter myself from the sun. The land was dry and burnt up with the heat. The people went to and fro over the plain like flies crawling upon a disk of polished copper.<br>
<br>
‘When it was noon a cloud of red dust rose up from the flat rim of the land. When the Tartars saw it, they strung their painted bows, and having leapt upon their little horses they galloped to meet it. The women fled screaming to the waggons, and hid themselves behind the felt curtains.<br>
<br>
‘At twilight the Tartars returned, but five of them were missing, and of those that came back not a few had been wounded. They harnessed their horses to the waggons and drove hastily away. Three jackals came out of a cave and peered after them. Then they sniffed up the air with their nostrils, and trotted off in the opposite direction.<br>
<br>
‘When the moon rose I saw a camp-fire burning on the plain, and went towards it. A company of merchants were seated round it on carpets. Their camels were picketed behind them, and the negroes who were their servants were pitching tents of tanned skin upon the sand, and making a high wall of the prickly pear.<br>
<br>
‘As I came near them, the chief of the merchants rose up and drew his sword, and asked me my business.<br>
<br>
‘I answered that I was a Prince in my own land, and that I had escaped from the Tartars, who had sought to make me their slave. The chief smiled, and showed me five heads fixed upon long reeds of bamboo.<br>
<br>
‘Then he asked me who was the prophet of God, and I answered him Mohammed.<br>
<br>
‘When he heard the name of the false prophet, he bowed and took me by the hand, and placed me by his side. A negro brought me some mare’s milk in a wooden dish, and a piece of lamb’s flesh roasted.<br>
<br>
‘At daybreak we started on our journey. I rode on a red-haired camel by the side of the chief, and a runner ran before us carrying a spear. The men of war were on either hand, and the mules followed with the merchandise. There were forty camels in the caravan, and the mules were twice forty in number.<br>
<br>
‘We went from the country of the Tartars into the country of those who curse the Moon. We saw the Gryphons guarding their gold on the white rocks, and the scaled Dragons sleeping in their caves. As we passed over the mountains we held our breath lest the snows might fall on us, and each man tied a veil of gauze before his eyes. As we passed through the valleys the Pygmies shot arrows at us from the hollows of the trees, and at night-time we heard the wild men beating on their drums. When we came to the Tower of Apes we set fruits before them, and they did not harm us. When we came to the Tower of Serpents we gave them warm milk in howls of brass, and they let us go by. Three times in our journey we came to the banks of the Oxus. We crossed it on rafts of wood with great bladders of blown hide. The river-horses raged against us and sought to slay us. When the camels saw them they trembled.<br>
<br>
‘The kings of each city levied tolls on us, but would not suffer us to enter their gates. They threw us bread over the walls, little maize-cakes baked in honey and cakes of fine flour filled with dates. For every hundred baskets we gave them a bead of amber.<br>
<br>
‘When the dwellers in the villages saw us coming, they poisoned the wells and fled to the hill-summits. We fought with the Magadae who are born old, and grow younger and younger every year, and die when they are little children; and with the Laktroi who say that they are the sons of tigers, and paint themselves yellow and black; and with the Aurantes who bury their dead on the tops of trees, and themselves live in dark caverns lest the Sun, who is their god, should slay them; and with the Krimnians who worship a crocodile, and give it earrings of green glass, and feed it with butter and fresh fowls; and with the Agazonbae, who are dog-faced; and with the Sibans, who have horses’ feet, and run more swiftly than horses. A third of our company died in battle, and a third died of want. The rest murmured against me, and said that I had brought them an evil fortune. I took a horned adder from beneath a stone and let it sting me. When they saw that I did not sicken they grew afraid.<br>
<br>
‘In the fourth month we reached the city of Illel. It was night-time when we came to the grove that is outside the walls, and the air was sultry, for the Moon was travelling in Scorpion. We took the ripe pomegranates from the trees, and brake them, and drank their sweet juices. Then we lay down on our carpets, and waited for the dawn.<br>
<br>
‘And at dawn we rose and knocked at the gate of the city. It was wrought out of red bronze, and carved with sea-dragons and dragons that have wings. The guards looked down from the battlements and asked us our business. The interpreter of the caravan answered that we had come from the island of Syria with much merchandise. They took hostages, and told us that they would open the gate to us at noon, and bade us tarry till then.<br>
<br>
‘When it was noon they opened the gate, and as we entered in the people came crowding out of the houses to look at us, and a crier went round the city crying through a shell. We stood in the market-place, and the negroes uncorded the bales of figured cloths and opened the carved chests of sycamore. And when they had ended their task, the merchants set forth their strange wares, the waxed linen from Egypt and the painted linen from the country of the Ethiops, the purple sponges from Tyre and the blue hangings from Sidon, the cups of cold amber and the fine vessels of glass and the curious vessels of burnt clay. From the roof of a house a company of women watched us. One of them wore a mask of gilded leather.<br>
<br>
‘And on the first day the priests came and bartered with us, and on the second day came the nobles, and on the third day came the craftsmen and the slaves. And this is their custom with all merchants as long as they tarry in the city.<br>
<br>
‘And we tarried for a moon, and when the moon was waning, I wearied and wandered away through the streets of the city and came to the garden of its god. The priests in their yellow robes moved silently through the green trees, and on a pavement of black marble stood the rose-red house in which the god had his dwelling. Its doors were of powdered lacquer, and bulls and peacocks were wrought on them in raised and polished gold. The tilted roof was of sea-green porcelain, and the jutting eaves were festooned with little bells. When the white doves flew past, they struck the bells with their wings and made them tinkle.<br>
<br>
‘In front of the temple was a pool of clear water paved with veined onyx. I lay down beside it, and with my pale fingers I touched the broad leaves. One of the priests came towards me and stood behind me. He had sandals on his feet, one of soft serpent-skin and the other of birds’ plumage. On his head was a mitre of black felt decorated with silver crescents. Seven yellows were woven into his robe, and his frizzed hair was stained with antimony.<br>
<br>
‘After a little while he spake to me, and asked me my desire.<br>
<br>
‘I told him that my desire was to see the god.<br>
<br>
‘“The god is hunting,” said the priest, looking strangely at me with his small slanting eyes.<br>
<br>
‘“Tell me in what forest, and I will ride with him,” I answered.<br>
<br>
‘He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic with his long pointed nails. “The god is asleep,” he murmured.<br>
<br>
‘“Tell me on what couch, and I will watch by him,” I answered.<br>
<br>
‘“The god is at the feast,” he cried.<br>
<br>
‘“If the wine be sweet I will drink it with him, and if it be bitter I will drink it with him also,” was my answer.<br>
<br>
‘He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking me by the hand, he raised me up, and led me into the temple.<br>
<br>
‘And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated on a throne of jasper bordered with great orient pearls. It was carved out of ebony, and in stature was of the stature of a man. On its forehead was a ruby, and thick oil dripped from its hair on to its thighs. Its feet were red with the blood of a newly-slain kid, and its loins girt with a copper belt that was studded with seven beryls.<br>
<br>
‘And I said to the priest, “Is this the god?” And he answered me, “This is the god.”<br>
<br>
‘“Show me the god,” I cried, “or I will surely slay thee.” And I touched his hand, and it became withered.<br>
<br>
‘And the priest besought me, saying, “Let my lord heal his servant, and I will show him the god.”<br>
<br>
‘So I breathed with my breath upon his hand, and it became whole again, and he trembled and led me into the second chamber, and I saw an idol standing on a lotus of jade hung with great emeralds. It was carved out of ivory, and in stature was twice the stature of a man. On its forehead was a chrysolite, and its breasts were smeared with myrrh and cinnamon. In one hand it held a crooked sceptre of jade, and in the other a round crystal. It ware buskins of brass, and its thick neck was circled with a circle of selenites.<br>
<br>
‘And I said to the priest, “Is this the god?”<br>
<br>
‘And he answered me, “This is the god.”<br>
<br>
‘“Show me the god,” I cried, “or I will surely slay thee.” And I touched his eyes, and they became blind.<br>
<br>
‘And the priest besought me, saying, “Let my lord heal his servant, and I will show him the god.”<br>
<br>
‘So I breathed with my breath upon his eyes, and the sight came back to them, and he trembled again, and led me into the third chamber, and lo! there was no idol in it, nor image of any kind, but only a mirror of round metal set on an altar of stone.<br>
<br>
‘And I said to the priest, “Where is the god?”<br>
<br>
‘And he answered me: “There is no god but this mirror that thou seest, for this is the Mirror of Wisdom. And it reflecteth all things that are in heaven and on earth, save only the face of him who looketh into it. This it reflecteth not, so that he who looketh into it may be wise. Many other mirrors are there, but they are mirrors of Opinion. This only is the Mirror of Wisdom. And they who possess this mirror know everything, nor is there anything hidden from them. And they who possess it not have not Wisdom. Therefore is it the god, and we worship it.” And I looked into the mirror, and it was even as he had said to me.<br>
<br>
‘And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters not, for in a valley that is but a day’s journey from this place have I hidden the Mirror of Wisdom. Do but suffer me to enter into thee again and be thy servant, and thou shalt be wiser than all the wise men, and Wisdom shall be thine. Suffer me to enter into thee, and none will be as wise as thou.’<br>
<br>
But the young Fisherman laughed. ‘Love is better than Wisdom,’ he cried, ‘and the little Mermaid loves me.’<br>
<br>
‘Nay, but there is nothing better than Wisdom,’ said the Soul.<br>
<br>
‘Love is better,’ answered the young Fisherman, and he plunged into the deep, and the Soul went weeping away over the marshes.<br>
<br>
<br>

最后发表： 网事如烟
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“丝管醉春风”，呵呵，原来也是一个微酸的才俊，现在这个名字可能更好，云淡风清地写意！

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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Part IV<br>
<br>
<br>
But the little Dwarf knew nothing of all this. He liked the birds and the lizards immensely, and thought that the flowers were the most marvellous things in the whole world, except of course the Infanta, but then she had given him the beautiful white rose, and she loved him, and that made a great difference. How he wished that he had gone back with her! She would have put him on her right hand, and smiled at him, and he would have never left her side, but would have made her his playmate, and taught her all kinds of delightful tricks. For though he had never been in a palace before, he knew a great many wonderful things. He could make little cages out of rushes for the grasshoppers to sing in, and fashion the long jointed bamboo into the pipe that Pan loves to hear. He knew the cry of every bird, and could call the starlings from the tree-top, or the heron from the mere. He knew the trail of every animal, and could track the hare by its delicate footprints, and the boar by the trampled leaves. All the wild-dances he knew, the mad dance in red raiment with the autumn, the light dance in blue sandals over the corn, the dance with white snow-wreaths in winter, and the blossom-dance through the orchards in spring. He knew where the wood-pigeons built their nests, and once when a fowler had snared the parent birds, he had brought up the young ones himself, and had built a little dovecot for them in the cleft of a pollard elm. They were quite tame, and used to feed out of his hands every morning. She would like them, and the rabbits that scurried about in the long fern, and the jays with their steely feathers and black bills, and the hedgehogs that could curl themselves up into prickly balls, and the great wise tortoises that crawled slowly about, shaking their heads and nibbling at the young leaves. Yes, she must certainly come to the forest and play with him. He would give her his own little bed, and would watch outside the window till dawn, to see that the wild horned cattle did not harm her, nor the gaunt wolves creep too near the hut. And at dawn he would tap at the shutters and wake her, and they would go out and dance together all the day long. It was really not a bit lonely in the forest. Sometimes a Bishop rode through on his white mule, reading out of a painted book. Sometimes in their green velvet caps, and their jerkins of tanned deerskin, the falconers passed by, with hooded hawks on their wrists. At vintage-time came the grape-treaders, with purple hands and feet, wreathed with glossy ivy and carrying dripping skins of wine; and the charcoal-burners sat round their huge braziers at night, watching the dry logs charring slowly in the fire, and roasting chestnuts in the ashes, and the robbers came out of their caves and made merry with them. Once, too, he had seen a beautiful procession winding up the long dusty road to Toledo. The monks went in front singing sweetly, and carrying bright banners and crosses of gold, and then, in silver armour, with matchlocks and pikes, came the soldiers, and in their midst walked three barefooted men, in strange yellow dresses painted all over with wonderful figures, and carrying lighted candles in their hands. Certainly there was a great deal to look at in the forest, and when she was tired he would find a soft bank of moss for her, or carry her in his arms, for he was very strong, though he knew that he was not tall. He would make her a necklace of red bryony berries, that would be quite as pretty as the white berries that she wore on her dress, and when she was tired of them, she could throw them away, and he would find her others. He would bring her acorn-cups and dew-drenched anemones, and tiny glow-worms to be stars in the pale gold of her hair.<br>
<br>
But where was she? He asked the white rose, and it made him no answer. The whole palace seemed asleep, and even where the shutters had not been closed, heavy curtains had been drawn across the windows to keep out the glare. He wandered all round looking for some place through which he might gain an entrance, and at last he caught sight of a little private door that was lying open. He slipped through, and found himself in a splendid hall, far more splendid, he feared, than the forest, there was so much more gilding everywhere, and even the floor was made of great coloured stones, fitted together into a sort of geometrical pattern. But the little Infanta was not there, only some wonderful white statues that looked down on him from their jasper pedestals, with sad blank eyes and strangely smiling lips.<br>
<br>
At the end of the hall hung a richly embroidered curtain of black velvet, powdered with suns and stars, the King’s favourite devices, and broidered on the colour he loved best. Perhaps she was hiding behind that? He would try at any rate.<br>
<br>
So he stole quietly across, and drew it aside. No; there was only another room, though a prettier room, he thought, than the one he had just left. The walls were hung with a many-figured green arras of needle-wrought tapestry representing a hunt, the work of some Flemish artists who had spent more than seven years in its composition. It had once been the chamber of Jean le Fou, as he was called, that mad King who was so enamoured of the chase, that he had often tried in his delirium to mount the huge rearing horses, and to drag down the stag on which the great hounds were leaping, sounding his hunting horn, and stabbing with his dagger at the pale flying deer. It was now used as the council-room, and on the centre table were lying the red portfolios of the ministers, stamped with the gold tulips of Spain, and with the arms and emblems of the house of Hapsburg.<br>
<br>
The little Dwarf looked in wonder all round him, and was half-afraid to go on. The strange silent horsemen that galloped so swiftly through the long glades without making any noise, seemed to him like those terrible phantoms of whom he had heard the charcoal-burners speaking - the Comprachos, who hunt only at night, and if they meet a man, turn him into a hind, and chase him. But he thought of the pretty Infanta, and took courage. He wanted to find her alone, and to tell her that he too loved her. Perhaps she was in the room beyond.<br>
<br>
He ran across the soft Moorish carpets, and opened the door. No! She was not here either. The room was quite empty.<br>
<br>
It was a throne-room, used for the reception of foreign ambassadors, when the King, which of late had not been often, consented to give them a personal audience; the same room in which, many years before, envoys had appeared from England to make arrangements for the marriage of their Queen, then one of the Catholic sovereigns of Europe, with the Emperor’s eldest son. The hangings were of gilt Cordovan leather, and a heavy gilt chandelier with branches for three hundred wax lights hung down from the black and white ceiling. Underneath a great canopy of gold cloth, on which the lions and towers of Castile were broidered in seed pearls, stood the throne itself, covered with a rich pall of black velvet studded with silver tulips and elaborately fringed with silver and pearls. On the second step of the throne was placed the kneeling-stool of the Infanta, with its cushion of cloth of silver tissue, and below that again, and beyond the limit of the canopy, stood the chair for the Papal Nuncio, who alone had the right to be seated in the King’s presence on the occasion of any public ceremonial, and whose Cardinal’s hat, with its tangled scarlet tassels, lay on a purple tabouret in front. On the wall, facing the throne, hung a life-sized portrait of Charles V. in hunting dress, with a great mastiff by his side, and a picture of Philip II. receiving the homage of the Netherlands occupied the centre of the other wall. Between the windows stood a black ebony cabinet, inlaid with plates of ivory, on which the figures from Holbein’s Dance of Death had been graved - by the hand, some said, of that famous master himself.<br>
<br>
But the little Dwarf cared nothing for all this magnificence. He would not have given his rose for all the pearls on the canopy, nor one white petal of his rose for the throne itself. What he wanted was to see the Infanta before she went down to the pavilion, and to ask her to come away with him when he had finished his dance. Here, in the Palace, the air was close and heavy, but in the forest the wind blew free, and the sunlight with wandering hands of gold moved the tremulous leaves aside. There were flowers, too, in the forest, not so splendid, perhaps, as the flowers in the garden, but more sweetly scented for all that; hyacinths in early spring that flooded with waving purple the cool glens, and grassy knolls; yellow primroses that nestled in little clumps round the gnarled roots of the oak-trees; bright celandine, and blue speedwell, and irises lilac and gold. There were grey catkins on the hazels, and the foxgloves drooped with the weight of their dappled bee-haunted cells. The chestnut had its spires of white stars, and the hawthorn its pallid moons of beauty. Yes: surely she would come if he could only find her! She would come with him to the fair forest, and all day long he would dance for her delight. A smile lit up his eyes at the thought, and he passed into the next room.<br>
<br>
<br>

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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终于贴完了,帖子长度有限制真是麻烦啊。<br>
<br>
想当年（上初中的时候吧）俺就是看了这篇童话的英文简写本后痛哭流涕，从此迷上了王尔德<img src="../leadbbsfile/UBBicon/em03.GIF" width=46 height=46 align=absmiddle border=0>。<br>
<br>
明后两天我再来贴两篇更经典的，虽然有耐心看完这么长一大篇的东西的人可能不多，但如此灿烂凄美的文笔，只要细细品味，就一定会喜欢上的！<img src="../leadbbsfile/UBBicon/em28.GIF" width=46 height=46 align=absmiddle border=0><br>
<br>

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The Selfish Giant<br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
<br>
<br>
Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant’s garden.<br>
<br>
It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. “How happy we are here!” they cried to each other.<br>
<br>
One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.<br>
<br>
“What are you doing here?” he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.<br>
<br>
“My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant; “any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.” So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
TRESPASSERS<br>
WILL BE<br>
PROSECUTED<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
He was a very selfish Giant.<br>
<br>
The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. “How happy we were there,” they said to each other.<br>
<br>
Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has forgotten this garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all the year round.” The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. “This is a delightful spot,” he said, “we must ask the Hail on a visit.” So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.<br>
<br>
“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; “I hope there will be a change in the weather.”<br>
<br>
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none. “He is too selfish,” she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.<br>
<br>
One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. “I believe the Spring has come at last,” said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.<br>
<br>
What did he see?<br>
<br>
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. “Climb up! little boy,” said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.<br>
<br>
And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. “How selfish I have been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for ever and ever.” He was really very sorry for what he had done.<br>
<br>
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. “It is your garden now, little children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o’clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.<br>
<br>
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.<br>
<br>
“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the boy I put into the tree.” The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.<br>
<br>
“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away.”<br>
<br>
“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.<br>
<br>
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. “How I would like to see him!” he used to say.<br>
<br>
Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. “I have many beautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.”<br>
<br>
One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.<br>
<br>
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.<br>
<br>
Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, “Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.<br>
<br>
“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.”<br>
<br>
“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds of Love.”<br>
<br>
“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.<br>
<br>
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.”<br>
<br>
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.<br>
<br>
<br>

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i like this piece very much!

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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The Happy Prince<br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
<br>
Part II<br>
<br>
When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. “What a remarkable phenomenon,” said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. “A swallow in winter!” And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.<br>
<br>
“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished stranger!” so he enjoyed himself very much.<br>
<br>
When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Have you any commissions for Egypt?” he cried; “I am just starting.”<br>
<br>
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”<br>
<br>
“I am waited for in Egypt,” answered the Swallow. “To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water’s edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.<br>
<br>
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.”<br>
<br>
“I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. “Shall I take him another ruby?”<br>
<br>
“Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.”<br>
<br>
“Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that”; and he began to weep.<br>
<br>
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”<br>
<br>
So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away to the student’s garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.<br>
<br>
“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,” and he looked quite happy.<br>
<br>
The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes. “Heave a-hoy!” they shouted as each chest came up. “I am going to Egypt”! cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.<br>
<br>
“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.<br>
<br>
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”<br>
<br>
“It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”<br>
<br>
“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there stands a little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.”<br>
<br>
“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, “but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then.”<br>
<br>
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”<br>
<br>
So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. “What a lovely bit of glass,” cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.<br>
<br>
Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind now,” he said, “so I will stay with you always.”<br>
<br>
“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to Egypt.”<br>
<br>
“I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet.<br>
<br>
All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.<br>
<br>
“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.”<br>
<br>
So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s arms to try and keep themselves warm. “How hungry we are!” they said. “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.<br>
<br>
Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.<br>
<br>
“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy.”<br>
<br>
Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. “We have bread now!” they cried.<br>
<br>
Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.<br>
<br>
The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker’s door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.<br>
<br>
But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more. “Good-bye, dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?”<br>
<br>
“I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.”<br>
<br>
“It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow. “I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?”<br>
<br>
And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.<br>
<br>
At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.<br>
<br>
Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!” he said.<br>
<br>
“How shabby indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.<br>
<br>
“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,” said the Mayor in fact, “he is litttle beter than a beggar!”<br>
<br>
“Little better than a beggar,” said the Town Councillors.<br>
<br>
“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued the Mayor. “We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here.” And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.<br>
<br>
So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. “As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor at the University.<br>
<br>
Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. “We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and it shall be a statue of myself.”<br>
<br>
“Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.<br>
<br>
“What a strange thing!” said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry. “This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it away.” So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.<br>
<br>
“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.<br>
<br>
“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.”<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>

最后发表： artemis
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信陵君多日不见，一来就诗兴大发啊！顶！

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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The House of Judgment<br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
<br>
<br>
And there was silence in the House of Judgment, and the Man came<br>
naked before God.<br>
<br>
And God opened the Book of the Life of the Man.<br>
<br>
And God said to the Man, 'Thy life hath been evil, and thou hast<br>
shown cruelty to those who were in need of succour, and to those who<br>
lacked help thou hast been bitter and hard of heart. The poor<br>
called to thee and thou didst not hearken, and thine ears were<br>
closed to the cry of My afflicted. The inheritance of the<br>
fatherless thou didst take unto thyself, and thou didst send the<br>
foxes into the vineyard of thy neighbour's field. Thou didst take<br>
the bread of the children and give it to the dogs to eat, and My<br>
lepers who lived in the marshes, and were at peace and praised Me,<br>
thou didst drive forth on to the highways, and on Mine earth out of<br>
which I made thee thou didst spill innocent blood.'<br>
<br>
And the Man made answer and said, 'Even so did I.'<br>
<br>
And again God opened the Book of the Life of the Man.<br>
<br>
And God said to the Man, 'Thy life hath been evil, and the Beauty I<br>
have shown thou hast sought for, and the Good I have hidden thou<br>
didst pass by. The walls of thy chamber were painted with images,<br>
and from the bed of thine abominations thou didst rise up to the<br>
sound of flutes. Thou didst build seven altars to the sins I have<br>
suffered, and didst eat of the thing that may not be eaten, and the<br>
purple of thy raiment was broidered with the three signs of shame.<br>
Thine idols were neither of gold nor of silver that endure, but of<br>
flesh that dieth. Thou didst stain their hair with perfumes and put<br>
pomegranates in their hands. Thou didst stain their feet with<br>
saffron and spread carpets before them. With antimony thou didst<br>
stain their eyelids and their bodies thou didst smear with myrrh.<br>
Thou didst bow thyself to the ground before them, and the thrones of<br>
thine idols were set in the sun. Thou didst show to the sun thy<br>
shame and to the moon thy madness.'<br>
<br>
And the Man made answer and said, 'Even so did I.'<br>
<br>
And a third time God opened the Book of the Life of the Man.<br>
<br>
And God said to the Man, 'Evil hath been thy life, and with evil<br>
didst thou requite good, and with wrongdoing kindness. The hands<br>
that fed thee thou didst wound, and the breasts that gave thee suck<br>
thou didst despise. He who came to thee with water went away<br>
thirsting, and the outlawed men who hid thee in their tents at night<br>
thou didst betray before dawn. Thine enemy who spared thee thou<br>
didst snare in an ambush, and the friend who walked with thee thou<br>
didst sell for a price, and to those who brought thee Love thou<br>
didst ever give Lust in thy turn.'<br>
<br>
And the Man made answer and said, 'Even so did I.'<br>
<br>
And God closed the Book of the Life of the Man, and said, 'Surely I<br>
will send thee into Hell. Even into Hell will I send thee.'<br>
<br>
And the Man cried out, 'Thou canst not.'<br>
<br>
And God said to the Man, 'Wherefore can I not send thee to Hell, and<br>
for what reason?'<br>
<br>
'Because in Hell have I always lived,' answered the Man.<br>
<br>
And there was silence in the House of Judgment.<br>
<br>
And after a space God spake, and said to the Man, 'Seeing that I may<br>
not send thee into Hell, surely I will send thee unto Heaven. Even<br>
unto Heaven will I send thee.'<br>
<br>
And the Man cried out, 'Thou canst not.'<br>
<br>
And God said to the Man, 'Wherefore can I not send thee unto Heaven,<br>
and for what reason?'<br>
<br>
'Because never, and in no place, have I been able to imagine it,'<br>
answered the Man.<br>
<br>
And there was silence in the House of Judgment.<br>
<br>
<br>

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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The Master<br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
<br>
<br>
Now when the darkness came over the earth Joseph of Arimathea,<br>
having lighted a torch of pinewood, passed down from the hill into<br>
the valley. For he had business in his own home.<br>
<br>
And kneeling on the flint stones of the Valley of Desolation he saw<br>
a young man who was naked and weeping. His hair was the colour of<br>
honey, and his body was as a white flower, but he had wounded his<br>
body with thorns and on his hair had he set ashes as a crown.<br>
<br>
And he who had great possessions said to the young man who was naked<br>
and weeping, 'I do not wonder that your sorrow is so great, for<br>
surely He was a just man.'<br>
<br>
And the young man answered, 'It is not for Him that I am weeping,<br>
but for myself. I too have changed water into wine, and I have<br>
healed the leper and given sight to the blind. I have walked upon<br>
the waters, and from the dwellers in the tombs I have cast out<br>
devils. I have fed the hungry in the desert where there was no<br>
food, and I have raised the dead from their narrow houses, and at my<br>
bidding, and before a great multitude, of people, a barren fig-tree<br>
withered away. All things that this man has done I have done also.<br>
And yet they have not crucified me.'<br>
<br>
<br>

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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The Disciple <br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
　　<br>
When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it comfort.<br>
　　<br>
And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of their hair and cried to the pool and said, 'We do not wonder that you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was he.'<br>
　　<br>
'But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.<br>
　　<br>
'Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. 'Us did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he would mirror his own beauty.'<br>
　　<br>
And the pool answered, 'But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw ever my own beauty mirrored.'<br>
<br>

最后发表： 闲过信陵饮
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不好意思，好久没来这里交作业了，今天开始连载王尔德的散文诗和童话，大家不要和我抢哦～～<br>
<img src="../leadbbsfile/UBBicon/em36.GIF" width=46 height=46 align=absmiddle border=0><br>
<br>
<br>
The Artist<br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
<br>
One evening there came into his soul the desire to fashion an image<br>
of The Pleasure that abideth for a Moment. And he went forth into<br>
the world to look for bronze. For he could think only in bronze.<br>
<br>
But all the bronze of the whole world had disappeared, nor anywhere<br>
in the whole world was there any bronze to be found, save only the<br>
bronze of the image of The Sorrow that endureth for Ever.<br>
<br>
Now this image he had himself, and with his own hands, fashioned,<br>
and had set it on the tomb of the one thing he had loved in life.<br>
On the tomb of the dead thing he had most loved had he set this<br>
image of his own fashioning, that it might serve as a sign of the<br>
love of man that dieth not, and a symbol of the sorrow of man that<br>
endureth for ever. And in the whole world there was no other bronze<br>
save the bronze of this image.<br>
<br>
And he took the image he had fashioned, and set it in a great<br>
furnace, and gave it to the fire.<br>
<br>
And out of the bronze of the image of The Sorrow that endureth for<br>
Ever he fashioned an image of The Pleasure that abideth for a<br>
Moment.<br>
<br>

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i like this piece very much.<br>
<br>
thanks for sharing with us.