按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
h 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