The Nightingale and The rose ｜夜鸯与玫瑰

原著作者｜Oscar Wilde In a garden so green lived a Young Student He was sad because he had no red rose "No red rose," he sighed. "So I can't dance with the one I love." A little Nightingale sat in an oak tree She heard the student cry and her heart felt heavy "He needs a red rose! True love is so important," she sang. The Nightingale flew to a White Rosebush "Give me a red rose," she asked, "for the Young Student." The Rosebush whispered, "My roses are white, white as the snow." "Go to the other side— maybe they have one." The Nightingale flew to the next bush "Give me a red rose," she sang, her voice soft and sweet. That Rosebush sighed, "My roses are yellow, like the sun." "To make a red rose, you must sing to me all night long." "And your heart's blood must stain my thorns." The Nightingale paused. "Heart's blood? That is a high price." But she looked at the Student still crying under the window. "Love is more precious than life itself," she decided. So, that night the Nightingale pressed her breast against a sharp thorn. She sang a beautiful song of true, perfect love. The thorn slowly— slowly went into her heart. And the White Rose began to change its color. Red, red, red it grew, with the Nightingale's song and blood. When the sun came up, the Rose was a deep, rich crimson. It was the most beautiful rose in the whole wide world. But the Nightingale lay still beneath the bush. Her song was over. The Student woke up and saw the magnificent rose. "Oh, what a miracle!" he cried. "It is the perfect rose of love!" He ran to the Princess's house and gave her the gift. "Will you dance with me now?" he asked. "Here is the reddest rose." The Princess looked at the rose. Then she laughed. "A nice rose, but it isn't worth my new diamonds," she said. "My uncle sent me real jewels. Everyone knows jewels are much better than flowers." The Student’s face went cold. He threw the rose into the street. A cart wheel rolled over it. "What a silly thing is Love!" he muttered. "It isn't as useful as Logic or Books." He walked away back to his quiet room and his heavy books. He never knew the price of the rose. He never knew the Nightingale’s song.前往小宇宙评论区与主播互动