安徒生童话-第32部分

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　the　clefts；　there　were　also　large　smooth　lakes　in　the　wood；on　which　the　swans　were　swimming　about　and　flapping　their　wings。　Theking's　son　often　stood　still　and　listened；　sometimes　he　thought　thatthe　sound　of　the　bell　rose　up　to　him　out　of　one　of　these　deep　lakes；but　soon　he　found　that　this　was　a　mistake；　and　that　the　bell　wasringing　still　farther　in　the　wood。　Then　the　sun　set；　the　clouds　wereas　red　as　fire；　it　became　quiet　in　the　wood；　he　sank　down　on　hisknees；　sang　an　evening　hymn　and　said：　〃I　shall　never　find　what　I　amlooking　for！　Now　the　sun　is　setting；　and　the　night；　the　dark　night；　isapproaching。　Yet　I　may　perhaps　see　the　round　sun　once　more　before　hedisappears　beneath　the　horizon。　I　will　climb　up　these　rocks；　theyare　as　high　as　the　highest　trees！〃　And　then；　taking　hold　of　thecreepers　and　roots；　he　climbed　up　on　the　wet　stones；　wherewater…snakes　were　wriggling　and　the　toads；　as　it　were；　barked　athim：　he　reached　the　top　before　the　sun；　seen　from　such　a　height；　hadquite　set。　〃Oh；　what　a　splendour！〃　The　sea；　the　great　majestic　sea；which　was　rolling　its　long　waves　against　the　shore；　stretched　outbefore　him；　and　the　sun　was　standing　like　a　large　bright　altar　andthere　where　sea　and　heaven　met…　all　melted　together　in　the　mostglowing　colours；　the　wood　was　singing；　and　his　heart　too。　The　whole　ofnature　was　one　large　holy　church；　in　which　the　trees　and　hoveringclouds　formed　the　pillars；　the　flowers　and　grass　the　woven　velvetcarpet；　and　heaven　itself　was　the　great　cupola；　up　there　the　flamecolour　vanished　as　soon　as　the　sun　disappeared；　but　millions　ofstars　were　lighted；　diamond　lamps　were　shining；　and　the　king's　sonstretched　his　arms　out　towards　heaven；　towards　the　sea；　and　towardsthe　wood。　Then　suddenly　the　poor　boy　with　the　short…sleeved　jacket　andthe　wooden　shoes　appeared；　he　had　arrived　just　as　quickly　on　theroad　he　had　chosen。　And　they　ran　towards　each　other　and　took　oneanother's　hand；　in　the　great　cathedral　of　nature　and　poesy；　andabove　them　sounded　the　invisible　holy　bell；　happy　spirits　surroundedthem；　singing　hallelujahs　and　rejoicing。

THE　END。

　　1872

　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

　THE　BELL…DEEP

　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen

〃DING…DONG！　ding…dong！〃　It　sounds　up　from　the　〃bell…deep〃　in　theOdense…Au。　Every　child　in　the　old　town　of　Odense；　on　the　island　ofFunen；　knows　the　Au；　which　washes　the　gardens　round　about　the　town；and　flows　on　under　the　wooden　bridges　from　the　dam　to　thewater…mill。　In　the　Au　grow　the　yellow　water…lilies　and　brownfeathery　reeds；　the　dark　velvety　flag　grows　there；　high　and　thick；　oldand　decayed　willows；　slanting　and　tottering；　hang　far　out　over　thestream　beside　the　monk's　meadow　and　by　the　bleaching　ground；　butopposite　there　are　gardens　upon　gardens；　each　different　from　the　rest；some　with　pretty　flowers　and　bowers　like　little　dolls'　pleasuregrounds；　often　displaying　cabbage　and　other　kitchen　plants；　and　hereand　there　the　gardens　cannot　be　seen　at　all；　for　the　great　elder　treesthat　spread　themselves　out　by　the　bank；　and　hang　far　out　over　thestreaming　waters；　which　are　deeper　here　and　there　than　an　oar　canfathom。　Opposite　the　old　nunnery　is　the　deepest　place；　which　is　calledthe　〃bell…deep；〃　and　there　dwells　the　old　water　spirit；　the　〃Au…mann。〃This　spirit　sleeps　through　the　day　while　the　sun　shines　down　uponthe　water；　but　in　starry　and　moonlit　nights　he　shows　himself。　He　isvery　old。　Grandmother　says　that　she　has　heard　her　own　grandmother　tellof　him；　he　is　said　to　lead　a　solitary　life；　and　to　have　nobody　withwhom　he　can　converse　save　the　great　old　church　Bell。　Once　the　Bellhung　in　the　church　tower；　but　now　there　is　no　trace　left　of　thetower　or　of　the　church；　which　was　called　St。　Alban's。

〃Ding…dong！　ding…dong！〃　sounded　the　Bell；　when　the　tower　stillstood　there；　and　one　evening；　while　the　sun　was　setting；　and　theBell　was　swinging　away　bravely；　it　broke　loose　and　came　flying　downthrough　the　air；　the　brilliant　metal　shining　in　the　ruddy　beam。

〃Ding…dong！　ding…dong！　Now　I'll　retire　to　rest！〃　sang　the　Bell；and　flew　down　into　the　Odense…Au；　where　it　is　deepest；　and　that　is　whythe　place　is　called　the　〃bell…deep。〃

But　the　Bell　got　neither　rest　nor　sleep。　Down　in　the　Au…mann'shaunt　it　sounds　and　rings；　so　that　the　tones　sometimes　pierce　upwardthrough　the　waters；　and　many　people　maintain　that　its　strains　forebodethe　death　of　some　one；　but　that　is　not　true；　for　the　Bell　is　onlytalking　with　the　Au…mann；　who　is　now　no　longer　alone。

And　what　is　the　Bell　telling？　It　is　old；　very　old；　as　we　havealready　observed；　it　was　there　long　before　grandmother's　grandmotherwas　born；　and　yet　it　is　but　a　child　in　parison　with　the　Au…mann；who　is　quite　an　old　quiet　personage；　an　oddity；　with　his　hose　ofeel…skin；　and　his　scaly　Jacket　with　the　yellow　lilies　for　buttons；　anda　wreath　of　reed　in　his　hair　and　seaweed　in　his　beard；　but　he　looksvery　pretty　for　all　that。

What　the　Bell　tells？　To　repeat　it　all　would　require　years　anddays；　for　year　by　year　it　is　telling　the　old　stories；　sometimesshort　ones；　sometimes　long　ones；　according　to　its　whim；　it　tells　ofold　times；　of　the　dark　hard　times；　thus：

〃In　the　church　of　St。　Alban；　the　monk　had　mounted　up　into　thetower。　He　was　young　and　handsome；　but　thoughtful　exceedingly。　Helooked　through　the　loophole　out　upon　the　Odense…Au；　when　the　bed　ofthe　water　was　yet　broad；　and　the　monks'　meadow　was　still　a　lake。　Helooked　out　over　it；　and　over　the　rampart；　and　over　the　nuns'　hillopposite；　where　the　convent　lay；　and　the　light　gleamed　forth　fromthe　nun's　cell。　He　had　known　the　nun　right　well；　and　he　thought　ofher；　and　his　heart　beat　quicker　as　he　thought。　Ding…dong！　ding…dong！〃

Yes；　this　was　the　story　the　Bell　told。

〃Into　the　tower　came　also　the　dapper　man…servant　of　the　bishop；and　when　I；　the　Bell；　who　am　made　of　metal；　rang　hard　and　loud；　andswung　to　and　fro；　I　might　have　beaten　out　his　brains。　He　sat　downclose　under　me；　and　played　with　two　little　sticks　as　if　they　hadbeen　a　stringed　instrument；　and　he　sang　to　it。　'Now　I　may　sing　itout　aloud；　though　at　other　times　I　may　not　whisper　it。　I　may　sing　ofeverything　that　is　kept　concealed　behind　lock　and　bars。　Yonder　it　iscold　and　wet。　The　rats　are　eating　her　up　alive！　Nobody　knows　of　it！Nobody　hears　of　it！　Not　even　now；　for　the　bell　is　ringing　andsinging　its　loud　Ding…dong；　ding…dong！'

〃There　was　a　King　in　those　days。　They　called　him　Canute。　Hebowed　himself　before　bishop　and　monk；　but　when　he　offended　the　freepeasants　with　heavy　taxes　and　hard　words；　they　seized　their　weaponsand　put　him　to　flight　like　a　wild　beast。　He　sought　shelter　in　thechurch；　and　shut　gate　and　door　behind　him。　The　violent　band　surroundedthe　church；　I　heard　tell　of　it。　The　crows；　ravens　and　magpiesstarted　up　in　terror　at　the　yelling　and　shouting　that　soundedaround。　They　flew　into　the　tower　and　out　again；　they　looked　downupon　the　throng　below；　and　they　also　looked　into　the　windows　of　thechurch；　and　screamed　out　aloud　what　they　saw　there。　King　Canuteknelt　before　the　altar　in　prayer；　his　brothers　Eric　and　Benedict　stoodby　him　as　a　guard　with　drawn　swords；　but　the　King's　servant；　thetreacherous　Blake；　betrayed　his　master。　The　throng　in　front　of　thechurch　knew　where　they　could　hit　the　King；　and　one　of　them　flung　astone　through　a　pane　of　glass；　and　the　King　lay　there　dead！　Thecries　and　screams　of　the　savage　horde　and　of　the　birds　sounded　throughthe　air；　and　I　joined　in　it　also；　for　I　sang　'Ding…dong！　ding…dong！'

〃The　church　bell　hangs　high；　and　looks　far　around；　and　sees　thebirds　around　it；　and　understands　their　language。　The　wind　roars　inupon　it　through　windows　and　loopholes；　and　the　wind　knowseverything；　for　he　gets　it　from　the　air；　which　encircles　all　things；and　the　church　bell　understands　his　tongue；　and　rings　it　out　intothe　world；　'Ding…dong！　ding…dong！'

〃But　it　was　too　much　for　me　to　hear　and　to　know；　I　was　not　ableany　longer　to　ring　it　out。　I　became　so　tired；　so　heavy；　that　thebeam　broke；　and　I　flew　out　into　the　gleaming　Au；　where　the　water　isdeepest；　and　where　the　Au…mann　lives；　solitary　and　alone；　and　yearby　year　I　tell　him　what　I　have　heard　and　what　I　know。　Ding…dong！ding…dong〃

Thus　it　sounds　plainingly　out　of　the　bell…deep　in　theOdense…Au。　That　is　what　grandmother　told　us。

But　the　schoolmaster　says　that　there　was　not　any　bell　that　rungdown　there；　for　that　it　could　not　do　so；　and　that　no　Au…mann　dweltyonder；　for　there　was　no　Au…mann　at　all！　And　when　all　the　other　churchbells　are　sounding　sweetly；　he　says　that　it　is　not　really　the　bellsthat　are　sounding；　but　that　it　is　the　air　itself　which　sends　forth　thenotes；　and　grandmother　said　to　us　that　the　Bell　itself　said　it　was　theair　who　told　it　to　him；　consequently　they　are　agreed　on　that　point；and　this　much　is　sure。

〃Be　cautious；　cautious；　and　take　good　heed　to　thyself；〃　theyboth　say。

The　air　knows　everything。　It　is　around　us；　it　is　in　us；　it　talksof　our　thoughts　and　of　our　deeds；　and　it　speaks　longer　of　them　thandoes　the　Bell　down　in　the　depths　of　the　Odense…Au　where　the　Au…manndwells。　It　rings　it　out　in　the　vault　of　heaven；　far；　far　out；forever　and　ever；　till　the　heaven　bells　sound　〃Ding…dong！　ding…dong！〃

THE　END。

　　1872

　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

THE　BIRD　OF　POPULAR　SONG

　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen

IT　is　winter…time。　The　earth　wears　a　snowy　garment；　and　looks　likemarble　hewn　out　of　the　rock；　the　air　is　bright　and　clear；　the　windis　sharp　as　a　well…tempered　sword；　and　the　trees　stand　like　branchesof　white　coral　or　blooming　almond　twigs；　and　here　it　is　keen　as　on　thelofty　Alps。

The　night　is　splendid　in　the　gleam　of　the　Northern　Lights；　andin　the　glitter　of　innumerable　twinkling　stars。

But　we　sit　in　the　warm　room；　by　the　hot　stove；　and　talk　aboutthe　old　times。　And　we　listen　to　this　story：

By　the　open　sea　was　a　giant's　grave；　and　on　the　grave…mound　sat　atmidnight　the　spirit　of　the　buried　hero；　who　had　been　a　king。　Thegolden　circlet　gleamed　on　his　brow；　his　hair　fluttered　in　the　wind；and　he　was　clad　in　steel　and　iron。　He　bent　his　head　mournfully；　andsighed　in　deep　sorrow；　as　an　unquiet　spirit　might　sigh。

And　a　ship　came　sailing　by。　Presently　the　sailors　lowered　theanchor　and　landed。　Among　them　was　a　singer；　and　he　approached　theroyal　spirit；　and　said；

〃Why　mournest　thou；　and　wherefore　dost　thou　suffer　thus？〃

And　the　dead　man　answered；

〃No　one　has　sung　the　deeds　of　my　life；　they　are　dead　andforgotten。　Song　doth　not　carry　them　forth　over　the　lands；　nor　into　thehearts　of　men；　therefore　I　have　no　rest　and　no　peace。〃

And　he　spoke　of　his　works；　and　of　his　warlike　deeds；　which　hiscontemporaries　had　known；　but　which　had　not　been　sung；　because　therewas　no　singer　among　his　panions。

Then　the　old　bard　struck　the　strings　of　his　harp；　and　sang　ofthe　youthful　courage　of　the　hero；　of　the　strength　of　the　man；　and　ofthe　greatness　of　his　good　deeds。　Then　the　face　of　the　dead　one　gleamedlike　the　margin　of　the　cloud　in　the　moonlight。　Gladly　and　of　goodcourage；　the　form　arose　in　splendor　and　in　majesty；　and　vanishedlike　the　glancing　of　the　northern　light。　Nought　was　to　be　seen　but　thegreen　turfy　mound；　with　the　stones　on　which　no　Runic　record　has　beengraven；　but　at　the　last　sound　of　the　harp　there　soared　over　thehill；　as　though　he　had　fluttered　from　the　harp；　a　little　bird；　acharming　singing…bird；　with　ringing　voice　of　the　thrush；　with　themoving　voice　pathos　of　the　human　heart；　with　a　voice　that　told　ofhome；　like　the　voice　that　is　heard　by　the　bird　of　passage。　Thesinging…bird　soared　away；　over　mountain　and　valley；　over　field　andwood…　he　was　the　Bird　of　Popular　Song；　who　never　dies。

We　hear　his　song…　we　hear　it　now　in　the　room　while　the　whitebees　are　swarming　without；　and　the　storm　clutches　the　windows。　Thebird　sings　not　alone　the　requiem　of　heroes；　he　sings　also　sweet　gentlesongs　of　love；　so　many　and　so　warm；　of　Northern　fidelity　and　truth。　Hehas　stories　in　words　and　in　tones；　he　has　proverbs　and　snatches　ofproverbs；　songs　which；　like　Runes　laid　under　a　dead　man's　tongue；force　him　to　speak；　and　thus　Popular　Song　tells　of　the　land　of　hisbirth。

In　the　old　heathen　days；　in　the　times　of　the　Vikings；　thepopular　speech　was　enshrined　in　the　harp　of　the　bard。

In　the　days　of　knightly　castles；　when　the　strongest　fist　heldthe　scales　of　justice；　when　only　might　was　right；　and　a　peasant　anda　dog　were　of　equal　importance；　where　did　the　Bird　of　Song　findshelter　and　protection？　Neither　violence　nor　stupidity　gave　him　athought。

But　in　the　gabled　window　of　the　knightly　castle；　the　lady　of　thecastle　sat　with　the　parchment　roll　before　her；　and　wrote　down　theold　recollections　in　song　and　legend；　while　near　her　stood　the　oldwoman　from　the　wood；　and　the　travelling　peddler　who　went　wanderingthrough　the　country。　As　these　told　their　tales；　there　fluttered　aroundthem；　with　twittering　and　song；　the　Bird　of　Popular　Song；　who　neverdies　so　long　as　the　earth　has　a　hill　upon　which　his　foot　may　rest。

And　now　he　looks　in　upon　us　and　sings。　Without　are　the　night　andthe　snow…storm。　He　lays　the　Runes　beneath　our　tongues；　and　we　know　theland　of　our　home。　Heaven　speaks　to　us　in　our　native　tongue；　in　thevoice　of　the　Bird　of　Popular　Song。　The　old　remembrances　awake；　thefaded　colors　glow　with　a　fresh　lustre；　and　story　and　song　pour　us　ablessed　draught　which　lifts　up　our　minds　and　our　thoughts；　so　that　theevening　bees　as　a　Christmas　festival。

The　snow…flakes　chase　each　other；　the　ice　cracks；　the　stormrules　without；　for　he　has　the　might；　he　is　lord…　but　not　the　LORD　OFALL。

It　is　winter　time。　The　wind　is　sharp　as　a　two…edged　sword；　thesnow…flakes　chase　each　other；　it　seems　as　though　it　had　been　snowingfor　days　and　weeks；　and　the　snow　lies　like　a　great　mountain　over　thewhole　town；　like　a　heavy　dream　of　the　winter　night。　Everything　onthe　earth　is　hidden　away；　only　the　golden　cross　of　the　church；　thesymbol　of　faith；　arises　over　the　snow　grave；　and　gleams　in　the　blueair　and　in　the　bright　sunshine。

And　over　the　buried　town　fly　the　birds　of　heaven；　the　small　andthe　great；　they　twitter　and　they　sing　as　best　they　may；　each　bird　withhis　beak。

First　es　the　band　of　sparrows：　they　pipe　at　every　trifle　in　thestreets　and　lanes；　in　the　nests　and　the　houses；　they　have　stories　totell　about　the　front　buildings　and　the　back　buildings。

〃We　know　the　buried　town；〃　they　say；　〃everything　living　in　it　ispiep！　piep！　piep！〃

The　black　ravens　and　crows　flew　on　over　the　white　snow。

〃Grub；　grub！〃　they　cried。　〃There's　something　to　be　got　down　there；something　to　swallow；　and　that's　most　important。　That's　the　opinion　ofmost　of　them　down　there；　and　the　opinion　is　goo…goo…good！〃

The　wild　swans　e　flying　on　whirring　pinions；　and　sing　of　thenoble　and　the　great；　that　will　still　sprout　in　the　hearts　of　men；　downin　the　town　which　is　resting　beneath　its　snowy　veil。

No　death　is　there…　life　reigns　yonder；　we　hear　it　on　the　notesthat　swell　onward　like　the　tones　of　the　church　organ；　which　seize　uslike　sounds　from　the　elf…hill；　like　the　songs　of　Ossian；　like　therushing　swoop　of　the　wandering　spirits'　wings。　What　harmony！　Thatharmony　speaks　to　our　hearts；　and　lifts　up　our　souls！　It　is　the　Birdof　Popular　Song　whom　we　hear。

And　at　this　moment　the　warm　breath　of　heaven　blows　down　from　thesky。　There　are　gaps　in　the　snowy　mountains；　the　sun　shines　into　theclefts；　spring　is　ing；　the　birds　are　returning；　and　new　races　areing　with　the　same　home　sounds　in　their　hearts。

Hear　the　story　of　the　year：　〃The　night　of　the　snow…storm；　theheav