安徒生童话-风的故事-英语故事-双语故事-
安徒生童话,风的故事
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EAR the shores of the great Belt, which is one of the straits that connect the Cattegat with the Baltic, stands an old
mansion with thick red walls. I know every stone of it,” says the Wind.
“I saw it when it was part of the castle of Marck
Stig on the promontory. But the castle was obliged to be pulled down, and the stone was used again for the walls of a new
mansion on another spot—the baronial residence of Borreby, which still stands near the coast. I knew them well, those noble
lords and ladies, the successive generations that dwelt there; and now I’
m going to tell you of Waldemar Daa and his
daughters. How proud was his bearing, for he was of royal blood, and could boast of more noble deeds than merely hunting the
stag and emptying the wine-cup. His rule was despotic: ‘It shall be,’
he was accustomed to say. His wife, in garments
embroidered with gold, stepped proudly over the polished marble floors. The tapestries were gorgeous, and the furniture of
costly and artistic taste. She had brought gold and plate with her into the house. The cellars were full of wine. Black,
fiery horses, neighed in the stables. There was a look of wealth about the house of Borreby at that time. They had three
children, daughters, fair and delicate maidens—Ida, Joanna, and Anna
Dorothea; I have never forgotten their names. They were
a rich, noble family, born in affluence and nurtured in luxury.
“Whir-r-r, whir-r-r!” roared the Wind, and went on, “I did not see in this house, as in other great houses, the high-
born lady sitting among her women, turning the spinning-wheel. She could sweep the sounding chords of the guitar, and sing to
the music, not always Danish melodies, but the songs of a strange land. It was ‘Live and let live,’ here. Stranger guests
came from far and near, music sounded, goblets clashed, and I,” said the Wind, “was not able to drown the noise.
Ostentation, pride, splendor, and display ruled, but not the fear of the Lord.
”It was on the evening of the first day of May,” the Wind continued, “I came from the west, and had seen the ships
overpowered with the waves, when all on board persisted or were cast shipwrecked on the coast of Jutland. I had hurried
across the heath and over Jutland’s wood-girt eastern coast, and over
the island of Funen, and then I drove across the great
belt, sighing and moaning. At length I lay down to rest on the shores of Zeeland, near to the great house of Borreby, where
the splendid forest of oaks still flourished. The young men of the neighborhood were collecting branches and brushwood under
the oak-trees. The largest and dryest they could find they carried into the village, and piled them up in a heap and set them
on fire. Then the men and maidens danced, and sung in a circle round the blazing pile. I lay quite quiet,” said the Wind, “
but I silently touched a branch which had been brought by one of the handsomest of the young men, and the wood blazed up
brightly, blazed brighter than all the rest. Then he was chosen as the chief, and received the name of the Shepherd; and
might choose his lamb from among the maidens. There was greater mirth and rejoicing than I had ever heard in the halls of the
rich baronial house. Then the noble lady drove by towards the baron’s
mansion with her three daughters, in a gilded carriage
drawn by six horses. The daughters were young and beautiful—three
charming blossoms—a rose, a lily, and a white hyacinth.
The mother was a proud tulip, and never acknowledged the salutations of any of the men or maidens who paused in their sport
to do her honor. The gracious lady seemed like a flower that was rather
stiff in the stalk. Rose, lily, and hyacinth—yes, I
saw them all three. Whose little lambs will they one day become? thought I; their shepherd will be a gallant knight, perhaps
a prince. The carriage rolled on, and the peasants resumed their dancing. They drove about the summer through all the
villages near. But one night, when I rose again, the high-born lady lay down to rise again no more; that thing came to her
which comes to us all, in which there is nothing new. Waldemar Daa remained for a time silent and thoughtful. ‘The loftiest
tree may be bowed without being broken,’ said a voice within him. His
daughters wept; all the people in the mansion wiped
their eyes, but Lady Daa had driven away, and I drove away too,” said the Wind. “Whir-r-r, whir-r-r-!
“I returned again; I often returned and passed over the island of Funen and the shores of the Belt. Then I rested by
Borreby, near the glorious wood, where the heron made his nest, the haunt of the wood-pigeons, the blue-birds, and the black
stork. It was yet spring, some were sitting on their eggs, others had already hatched their young broods; but how they
fluttered about and cried out when the axe sounded through the forest, blow upon blow! The trees of the forest were doomed.
Waldemar Daa wanted to build a noble ship, a man-of-war, a three-decker, which the king would be sure to buy; and these, the
trees of the wood, the landmark of the seamen, the refuge of the birds, must be felled. The hawk started up and flew away,
for its nest was destroyed; the heron and all the birds of the forest became homeless, and flew about in fear and anger. I
could well understand how they felt. Crows and ravens croaked, as if in scorn, while the trees were cracking and falling
around them. Far in the interior of the wood, where a noisy swarm of laborers were working, stood Waldemar Daa and his three
daughters, and all were laughing at the wild cries of the birds, excepting one, the youngest, Anna Dorothea, who felt grieved
to the heart; and when they made preparations to fell a tree that was almost dead, and on whose naked branches the black
stork had built her nest, she saw the poor little things stretching out their necks, and she begged for mercy for them, with
the tears in her eyes. So the tree with the black stork’s nest was left
standing; the tree itself, however, was not worth
much to speak of. Then there was a great deal of hewing and sawing, and at last the three-decker was built. The builder was a
man of low origin, but possessing great pride; his eyes and forehead spoke of large intellect, and Waldemar Daa was fond of
listening to him, and so was Waldemar’s daughter Ida, the eldest, now
about fifteen years old; and while he was building the
ship for the father, he was building for himself a castle in the air, in
which he and Ida were to live when they were
married. This might have happened, indeed, if there had been a real castle, with stone walls, ramparts, and a moat. But in
spite of his clever head, the builder was still but a poor, inferior bird; and how can a sparrow expect to be admitted into
the society of peacocks?
“I passed on in my course,” said the Wind, “and he passed away
also. He was not allowed to remain, and little Ida got
over it, because she was obliged to do so. Proud, black horses, worth looking at, were neighing in the stable. And they were
locked up; for the admiral, who had been sent by the king to inspect the new ship, and make arrangements for its purchase,
was loud in admiration of these beautiful horses. I heard it all,” said the Wind, “for I accompanied the gentlemen through
the open door of the stable, and strewed stalks of straw, like bars of
gold, at their feet. Waldemar Daa wanted gold, and the
admiral wished for the proud black horses; therefore he praised them so much. But the hint was not taken, and consequently
the ship was not bought. It remained on the shore covered with boards,—a Noah’s ark that never got to the water—Whir-r-r-r
—and that was a pity.
“In the winter, when the fields were covered with snow, and the
water filled with large blocks of ice which I had blown
up to the coast,” continued the Wind, “great flocks of crows and ravens, dark and black as they usually are, came and
alighted on the lonely, deserted ship. Then they croaked in harsh accents of the forest that now existed no more, of the many
pretty birds’ nests destroyed and the little ones left without a home; and all for the sake of that great bit of lumber,
that proud ship, that never sailed forth. I made the snowflakes whirl till
the snow lay like a great lake round the ship, and
drifted over it. I let it hear my voice, that it might know what the storm has to say. Certainly I did my part towards
teaching it seamanship.
“That winter passed away, and another winter and summer both
passed, as they are still passing away, even as I pass
away. The snow drifts onwards, the apple-blossoms are scattered, the leaves fall,—everything passes away, and men are
passing away too. But the great man’s daughters are still young, and
little Ida is a rose as fair to look upon as on the day
when the shipbuilder first saw her. I often tumbled her long, brown hair, while she stood in the garden by the apple-tree,
musing, and not heeding how I strewed the blossoms on her hair, and dishevelled it; or sometimes, while she stood gazing at
the red sun and the golden sky through the opening branches of the dark,
thick foliage of the garden trees. Her sister Joanna
was bright and slender as a lily; she had a tall and lofty carriage and figure, though, like her mother, rather stiff in
back. She was very fond of walking through the great hall, where hung the portraits of her ancestors. The women were
represented in dresses of velvet and silk, with tiny little hats, embroidered with pearls, on their braided hair. They were
all handsome women. The gentlemen appeared clad in steel, or in rich cloaks lined with squirrel’s fur; they wore little
ruffs, and swords at their sides. Where would Joanna’s place be on that
wall some day? and how would he look,—her noble
lord and husband? This is what she thought of, and often spoke of in a low voice to herself. I heard it as I swept into the
long hall, and turned round to come out again. Anna Dorothea, the pale hyacinth, a child of fourteen, was quiet and
thoughtful; her large, deep, blue eyes had a dreamy look, but a childlike smile still played round her mouth. I was not able
to blow it away, neither did I wish to do so. We have met in the garden, in the hollow lane, in the field and meadow, where
she gathered herbs and flowers which she knew would be useful to her father in preparing the drugs and mixtures he was always
concocting. Waldemar Daa was arrogant and proud, but he was also a learned man, and knew a great deal. It was no secret, and
many opinions were expressed on what he did. In his fireplace there was a fire, even in summer time. He would lock himself in
his room, and for days the fire would be kept burning; but he did not talk much of what he was doing. The secret powers of
nature are generally discovered in solitude, and did he not soon expect to find out the art of making the greatest of all
good things—the art of making gold? So he fondly hoped; therefore the chimney smoked and the fire crackled so constantly.
Yes, I was there too,” said the Wind. “‘Leave it alone,’ I sang down
the chimney; ‘leave it alone, it will all end in
smoke, air, coals, and ashes, and you will burn your fingers.’ But
Waldemar Daa did not leave it alone, and all he possessed
vanished like smoke blown by me. The splendid black horses, where are they? What became of the cows in the field, the old
gold and silver vessels in cupboards and chests, and even the house and home itself? It was easy to melt all these away in
the gold-making crucible, and yet obtain no gold. And so it was. Empty are the barns and store-rooms, the cellars and
cupboards; the servants decreased in number, and the mice multiplied. First one window became broken, and then another, so
that I could get in at other places besides the door. ‘Where the chimney
smokes, the meal is being cooked,’ says the
proverb; but here a chimney smoked that devoured all the meals for the
sake of gold. I blew round the courtyard,” said the
Wind, “like a watchman blowing his home, but no watchman was there.
I twirled the weather-cock round on the summit of the
tower, and it creaked like the snoring of a warder, but no warder was there; nothing but mice and rats. Poverty laid the
table-cloth; poverty sat in the wardrobe and in the larder. The door fell off its hinges, cracks and fissures made their
appearance everywhere; so that I could go in and out at pleasure, and that is how I know all about it. Amid smoke and ashes,
sorrow, and sleepless nights, the hair and beard of the master of the house turned gray, and deep furrows showed themselves
around his temples; his skin turned pale and yellow, while his eyes still looked eagerly for gold, the longed-for gold, and
the result of his labor was debt instead of gain. I blew the smoke and ashes into his face and beard; I moaned through the
broken window-panes, and the yawning clefts in the walls; I blew into the chests and drawers belonging to his daughters,
wherein lay the clothes that had become faded and threadbare, from being worn over and over again. Such a song had not been
sung, at the children’s cradle as I sung now. The lordly life had
changed to a life of penury. I was the only one who
rejoiced aloud in that castle,” said the Wind. “At last I snowed them up,
and they say snow keeps people warm. It was good
for them, for they had no wood, and the forest, from which they might have obtained it, had been cut down. The frost was very
bitter, and I rushed through loop-holes and passages, over gables and roofs with keen and cutting swiftness. The three high-
born daughters were lying in bed because of the cold, and their father crouching beneath his leather coverlet. Nothing to
eat, nothing to burn, no fire on the hearth! Here was a life for high-born people! ‘Give it up, give it up!’ But my Lord
Daa would not do that.
‘After winter, spring will come,’ he said, ‘after want, good times.
We must not lose patience, we must learn to
wait. Now my horses and lands are all mortgaged, it is indeed high time;
but gold will come at last—at Easter.’
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