一串珍珠的童话故事

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所属分类:民间故事

从哥本哈根通到柯尔索尔①的铁路,可算是丹麦唯一的铁路②,这等于是一串珠子,而欧洲却有不少这样的珠子。最昂贵的几颗珠子的名字是:“巴黎”、“伦敦”、“维也纳”和“那不勒斯”。但是有许多人不把这些大都市当做最美丽的珠子,却把某个无声无息的小城市当作他们的最喜欢的家。他们最心爱的人住在这小城市里。的确,它常常只不过是一个朴素的庄园,一幢藏在绿篱笆里的小房子,一个小点。当火车在它旁边经过的时候,谁也看不见它。

在哥本哈根和柯尔索尔之间的铁路线上,有多少颗这样的珠子呢?我们算一算,能够引起多数人注意的一共有六颗。旧的记忆和诗情使这几颗珠子发出光辉,因此它们也在我们的思想中射出光彩。

佛列德里克六世③的宫殿是建筑在一座小山上;这里就是奥伦施拉格尔斯④儿时的家。在这座山的附近就有这样一颗珠子藏在松得尔马根森林里面。大家把它叫“菲勒蒙和包茜丝茅庐”,这也就是说:两个可爱的老人之家。拉贝克和他的妻子珈玛⑤就住在里面。当代的学者从忙碌的哥布哈根特地到这个好客的屋子里来集会。这是知识界的家——唔,请不要说:“嗨,变得多快啊!”没有变,这儿仍然是学者之家,是病植物的温室!没有气力开放的花苞,在这儿得到保养和庇护,直到开花结子。精神的太阳带着生命力和欢乐,射进这安静的精神之家里来。周围的世界,通过眼睛,射进灵魂的无底的深处:这个浸在人间的爱里的白痴之家,是一个神圣的地方,是病植物的温室。这些植物将有一天被移植到上帝的花园里去,在那里开出花朵。这里现在住着智力最弱的人们。有个时候,最伟大和最能干的头脑在这里会面,交流思想,达到很高的境界——在这个“菲勒蒙和包茜丝茅庐”里,灵魂的火焰仍然在燃烧着。

我们现在看到了古老的罗斯吉尔得。它是洛亚尔泉旁的一个作为皇家墓地的小镇。在这有许多矮房屋的镇上,教堂的瘦长尖塔升向空中,同时也倒映在伊塞海峡里。我们在这儿只寻找一座坟墓,在珠子的闪光里来观察它。这不是那个伟大的皇后玛加列特的坟墓——不是的。这坟就在教堂的墓地里:我们刚刚就在它的白墙的外边经过。坟上盖着一块平凡的墓石,第一流的风琴手——丹麦传奇的复兴者——就躺在它下面。古代的传奇是我们的灵魂中的和谐音乐。我们从它知道,凡是有“滚滚白浪”的地方,就有一个国王驻扎的营地!罗斯吉尔得,你是一个埋葬帝王的城市!在你的珠子里我们要看到一个寒碜的坟墓;它的墓石上刻有一个竖琴和一个名字——魏塞⑥。

我们现在来到西格尔斯得。它在林格斯得这个小镇的附近。河床是很低的。在哈巴特的船停过的地方,离茜格妮的闺房不远,长着许多金黄的玉蜀黍。谁不知道哈巴特的故事呢?正当茜格妮的闺房着火的时候,哈巴特在一株栎树上被绞死。这是一个伟大的爱情故事。

“美丽的苏洛是藏在深树林里!”⑦这个安静的修道院小镇隐隐地在长满了青苔的绿树林里显露出来。年轻的眼睛从湖上的学院里朝外界的大路上凝望,静听火车的龙头轰轰地驰过树林。苏洛,你是一颗珠子,你保藏着荷尔堡的骨灰!你的学术之宫⑧像一只伟大的白天鹅,立在树林中深沉的湖畔。在那附近,有一幢小小的房子,像树林中的一朵星形白花,射出闪烁的亮光。我们的眼睛都向着它望。虔诚的赞美诗的朗诵声从这里飘到各地。这里面有祈祷声。农民静静地听,于是他们知道了丹麦逝去了的那些日子。绿树林和鸟儿的歌声总是联在一起的;同样,苏洛和英格曼的名字永远也分不开。

再往前走就是斯拉格尔斯!在这颗珠子的光里,有什么东西反射出来呢?安特伏尔斯柯乌寺院早已没有了,宫殿里的华丽大厅也没有了,甚至它剩下的一个孤独的边屋现在也没有了。然而还是有一个古老的遗迹存留了下来。人们把它修理了无数次。它就是立在山上的一个木十字架。在远古时代的某一天夜里,斯拉格尔斯的牧师圣安得尔斯被神托着从耶路撒冷的空中起飞。他一睁开眼睛就发现自己落在这座山上。

柯尔索尔——你⑨是在这地方出生的,你给我们:

在瑟兰岛之文克努得的歌中,

戏谐中杂有诚意。

你是语言和风趣的大师!那个荒凉堡垒的古墙是你儿时之家的最后一个可以看得见的明证。当太阳落下去的时候,它的影子就映着你出生的那幢房子。你在这古墙上向斯卜洛戈的高地望;当你还是“很小的时候”,你看到“月亮沉到岛后”⑩,你用不朽的调子歌颂它,正如你歌颂瑞士的群山一样。你在世界的《迷宫》⑾里走过,你发现:

什么地方的玫瑰也没有这样鲜艳,

什么地方的荆棘也没有这样细小,

什么地方的床榻也没有这样柔软,

像我们天真的儿时睡过的那样好。

你这活泼的、风趣的歌手!我们为你扎一个车叶草的花环。我们把这花环抛到湖里,让波浪把它带到埋葬着你的骨灰的吉勒尔海峡的岸旁。这花环代表年轻的一代对你的敬意,代表你的出生地柯尔索尔对你的敬意——这串珠子在这儿断了。

“这的确是从哥本哈根牵到柯尔索尔的一串珠子,”外祖母听到我们刚才念的句子说。“这对于我说来是一串珠子,而且40多年以来一直是如此,”她说。“那时我们没有蒸汽机。现在我们只须几个钟头就可以走完的路程,那时得花好几天工夫。那是1815年;我才21岁。那是一个可爱的时代!现在虽然已经过了60年,时代仍然是可爱的,充满了幸福!在我年轻的时候,我们认为哥本哈根是一切城市中最大的城市。比起现在来,那时去哥本哈根一次就算是一件了不起的事情。我的父母还想过了20年以后再去看一次;我也得跟着同去。我们把这次旅行的计划谈论了好几年,现在这计划却真的要实现了!我觉得,一个完全不同的新生活快要开始;在某种意义上说,我的这种新生活也真的开始了。

“大家忙着缝东西和捆行李。当我们要动身的时候,的确,该有多少好朋友来送行啊!这是我们的一次伟大的旅行!在上午我们坐着爸爸和妈妈的‘荷尔斯坦’式的马车走出奥登塞来。我们在街上经过的时候,一直到我们走出圣雨尔根门为止;所有的熟人都在窗子里对我们点头。天气非常晴和,鸟儿在唱着歌,一切都显得非常可爱。我们忘记了去纽堡是一段艰苦的长途旅行。我们到达的时候天已经黑了。邮车要到深夜才能到来,而船却要等它来了以后才开行。但是我们却上了船。我们面前是一望无际的平静的水。

“我们和着衣服躺下睡了。我早晨一醒来就走上甲板。雾非常大,两边岸上什么也看不见。我听到公鸡的叫声,同时也注意到太阳升上来了,钟声响起来了。我们来到了什么地方呢?雾已经消散了。事实上我们仍然停泊在纽堡附近。一股轻微的逆风整天不停地吹着。我们一下把帆掉向这边,一下把帆掉向那边,最后我总算是很幸运:在晚间刚过11点钟的时候,我们到达了柯尔索尔。但是这18海里的路程已经使我们花了22个钟头。

“走上陆地是一件愉快的事情,但是天却很黑了;灯光也不亮。一切对我说来都是生疏的,因为我除了奥登塞以外,什么别的地方也没有去过。

“‘柏格生就是在这儿出生的!’我的父亲说,‘比尔克纳⑿也在这儿住过。’

这时我就觉得,这个充满了矮小房子的小城市立刻变得光明和伟大起来。我们同时也觉得非常高兴,我们的脚是踏着坚实的地面。这天晚上我睡不着;我想着自从前天离家以后我所看过和经历过的这许多东西。

“第二天早晨我们很早就得爬起来,因为在没有到达斯拉格尔斯以前,我们还有一条充满了陡坡和泥坑的坏路要走。在斯拉格尔斯另一边的一段路也并不比这条好。我们希望早点到达‘螃蟹酒家’;我们可以从这儿在当天到苏洛去。我们可以拜访一下‘磨坊主的爱弥尔’——我们就是这样称呼他的。是的,他就是你的外祖父,是我的去世的丈夫,是乡下的牧师。他那时在苏洛念书,刚刚考完第二次考试,而且通过了。

“我们在中午过后到达‘螃蟹酒家’。这是那时一个漂亮的地方,是全部旅程中一个最好的酒店,一个可爱的处所。是的,大家都得承认,它现在还是如此。卜兰别克太太是一个勤快的老板娘;店里所有的东西都像擦洗得非常干净的切肉桌一样。墙上挂着的玻璃镜框里镶着拍格生写给她的信。这很值得一看!对我说来,这是一件了不起的东西。

“接着我们就到苏洛去;我们遇见爱弥尔。我相信,他看到我们非常高兴,就如我们看到他一样。他非常和蔼,也体贴人。我们同他一道去参观教堂;那里面有阿卜索伦⒀的坟墓和荷尔堡的棺材,我们看到古代僧人的刻字;我们在湖上划船到帕那萨斯⒁去。这是我记忆中最愉快的一个下午。我想,如果世界上有个什么地方可以写诗的话,这块地方一定是苏洛——处于安静而美丽的大自然中的苏格。

于是我们在月光下向着人们所谓的‘哲学家漫步处’走去。这是湖旁和水边的一条美丽而幽静的小路。它与通向‘螃蟹酒家’的大路相联结。爱弥尔一直陪着我们,跟我们一起吃晚饭。爸爸和妈妈发现他已经长成一个聪明的美男子了,他答应五天后就回到哥本哈根去,跟他的家里的人和我们同住一些时候。的确,现在圣灵降临节快到了。在苏洛和‘螃蟹酒家’的那些时刻,要算是我的一生中最美丽的珍珠。

“第二天早晨我们很早就动身了,因为到罗斯吉尔得去还得走好长一段路。我们必须及时到达那里才能看见主教堂,同时在当天晚上爸爸还要去看一位老同学。这都按计划做到了。我们这天晚上在罗斯吉尔得过夜;第二天——但是在吃中饭的时候——才回到哥本哈根,因为这段路程最不好,最不完整。从柯尔索尔到哥本哈根的旅程花了我们将近三天工夫。现在同样的旅程只要三个钟头就够了。

“这一串珍珠并役有变得比以前更昂贵:因为这是不可能的;不过串着这些珍珠的线现在却是又新又奇异。我跟爸爸妈妈在哥本哈根住了三个星期,而爱弥尔和我们在一起整整待了18天。我们回到富恩岛上去的时候,他一直从哥本哈根陪着我们到柯尔索尔。在我们没有分手以前,我们就订婚了。所以现在你可以了解,我也把哥本哈根到柯尔索尔的这段路叫做一串珍珠。

“后来爱弥尔在阿森斯找到了一个职业,于是我们就结婚了。我们常常谈起到哥本哈根去的那次旅行,而且打算再去一次。但是很快你的母亲就出生了,接着她就有了弟弟和妹妹了。要照顾和关心的事情实在太多了。那时父亲升了职位,成为一个牧师。当然一切是非常愉快和幸福的。但是我们却再也没有机会到哥本哈根去了。不管我们怎样怀恋它和谈论它,我们一直没有再到那儿去过。现在我已经太老了,再也没有气力坐火车旅行了。不过我很喜欢火车。火车是人间的一件宝贵东西:有了火车,你们就可以更快地回到我身边来!

“现在从奥登塞到哥本哈根,并不比我在年轻时从纽堡到哥本哈根远。现在你可以坐快车到意大利去,所花的时间跟我们到哥本哈根去差不多!是的,这是一件了不起的事情!虽然如此,我还是愿意坐下来,让别人去旅行,让别人来看我。但是你们却不要因为我坐着不动就笑我啦!我有一次更了不起的旅行在等着我:这跟你们的旅行不同,比你坐火车还要快。只要我们的上帝愿意,我将旅行到你们的外祖父那里去。等你们做完了工作,在这个幸福的世界上享受了你们的一生以后,我知道你们也会到我们那里去的;孩子,你们可以相信我,当我们谈起我们活在人间的日子的时候,我将也会在那儿说:‘从哥本哈根到柯尔索尔的确是一串珍珠!’”

①柯尔索尔(Korsor)是瑟兰岛上极北部的一个小镇,跟哥本哈根在同一个岛上。

②这是1856年的情形。

@佛列德里克六世(Fredrikden Sjettes,1768-1839)是丹麦的国王(1803-1839),也是挪威的国王(1808-1814)。

④奥伦施拉格尔斯(Adam Gottlob Oelenschlagers,1779~1850)是丹麦有名的诗人和戏剧家。

⑤拉贝克(Knud Lyne Rabbek)是丹麦一个多产而平庸的作家,死于1830年。但他和他的妻子珈玛(Camma)在丹麦文艺界起了相当重要的作用.因为他们的家是丹麦文艺界一个集会的中心。

⑥魏塞(Christoph Ernst Friedrich Weyse,1775-1842)是丹麦一个著名的作曲家和风琴手——丹麦传奇的复兴者。

⑦这是引自丹麦名作家英格曼(Bernhard Severin Ingemann,1789-1862)的一句话。英格曼是安徒生的朋友。

⑧指“苏洛书院”,这是丹麦著名作家荷尔堡创办的一所学校。

⑨指丹麦的名诗人和讽刺作家柏格生(Jens Immanuel Bagsen,1764~1826)。

⑩引自柏格生的一首名歌《当我还是很小的时候》。

⑾这是伯格生的第一部游记。

⑿比尔克纳(Michael Gottlieb Birkner,1756~1798)是一个为言论自由而斗争的人。

⒀这是丹麦一个有名的主教。

⒁这是“苏洛书院”的一个花园。帕那萨斯是希腊的一个山名,在神话中是艺术之女神的住处。

英文版:A String of Pearls

The railroad in Denmark still extends only from Copenhagen to Korsör; it is a string of pearls. Europe has a wealth of these pearls; its most costly are named Paris, London, Vienna, Naples. And yet many a man will point out as his favorite pearl not one of these great cities but rather some little country town that is still the home of homes to him, the home of those dearest to him. Yes, often it is not a town at all, but a single homestead, a little house, hidden among green hedges, a place hardly visible as the train speeds by.

How many pearls are there on the line from Copenhagen to Korsör? We will consider just six, which most people must notice; old memories and poetry itself give a luster to these pearls, so that they shine in our thoughts.

Near the hill where stands the palace of Frederick VI, the home of Oehlenschläger's childhood, one of these pearls glistens, sheltered by Söndermarken's woody ground. It used to be called "The Cottage of Philemon and Baucis." Here lived Rahbek and his wife, Camma; here, under their hospitable roof, assembled many of the generation's finest intellects from busy Copenhagen; it was the festival home of the intellectual. Now, don't say, "Ah, what a change!" No, it is still the home of the intellect, a conservatory for sick plants, for buds which do not have the strength to unfold their true beauty of color and form or show the blossoming and fruit-bearing which is hidden within them. The insane asylum, surrounded by human love, is truly a spot of holiness, a hospital for the sick plants that shall someday be transplanted to bloom in the paradise of God. The weakest minds are assembled now here, where once the strongest and keenest met to exchange thoughts and ideas, but still the flame of generosity mounts heavenward from "The Cottage of Philemon and Baucis."

Ancient Roskilde, the burial town of Kings, by Hroar's Spring, now lies before us. The slender towers of the church lift up above the low town and mirror themselves in Issefiord. Only one grave shall we seek here; it is not that of the mighty Queen Margrethe; no within the white-walled churchyard which we speed close by is the grave, and over it lays a small, plain stone. The master of the organ, the reviver of the old Danish romances, rests here. We recall, "The clear waves rolled" and "There dwelt a king in Leire." Roskilde, burial place of kings-in your pearl we see the insignificant gravestone whereon is cut a lyre and the name Weyse.

Now we reach Sigersted, near the town of Ringsted. The bed of the river is low here; yellow corn waves over the spot where Hagbarth's boat lay at anchor, not far from Signe's maiden bower. Who does not know the legend of Hagbarth, who was hanged on the oak tree while the bower of Signe burst into flames? Who can forget that legend of immortal love?

"Beautiful Sorö, encircled by woods!" Your quiet old cloistered town peeps out through its mossy trees; the keen eyes of youth from the academy can look across the lake toward the world's highway and hear the roar of the locomotive's dragon as it speeds through the woods. Sorö, pearl of poetry, you are guarding the dust of Holberg! Your palace of learning stands beside the deep woodland lake like a great white swan, and near by, like the bright starflower of the woods, there gleams a tiny cottage, whence pious hymns echo throughout the land; words are spoken within, and the peasant listens and learns of Denmark's bygone days. As the song of the bird is to the greenwood, so is Ingemann to Sorö.

On to the town of Slagelse! What is mirrored here in this pearl's luster? Gone forever is the cloister of Antoorskov (NB: Antvorskov); vanished are the rich halls of the castle, even the last remaining wing; yet one relic of olden times still lingers here, the wooden cross on the hill. It has been repaired again and again, for it marks the spot where, legend tells us, Saint Anders, holy priest of Slagelse, awoke, after having been brought there from Jerusalem in a single night.

Korsör, birthplace of Baggesen, master of words and wit! The ruined old ramparts of the fallen fortress are now the last visible witness of your childhood home; their lengthening sunset shadows point to the spot where stood the house in which you were born. From these hills you looked toward Sprogö and sang in undying verse.

Nowhere have roses so red a hue

And nowhere are feathers so light and so blue,

Nowhere the thorns so daintily grown,

As those to childhood innocence known.

Humorous, charming singer! We shall weave for thee a garland of woodbine and fling it into the lake, so that the current may bear it to the coast of Kielerfiord, where your ashes rest. The tide shall bring you a greeting from the new generation, a greeting from your birthplace Korsör - where I drop my string of pearls.

"That's quite right! A string of pearls does stretch from Copenhagen to Korsör," said Grandmother when she had heard this read aloud. "It's a string of pearls for me now, as it was more than forty years ago. We had no railroad then; we spent days on a trip that can now be made in as many hours. That was in 1815, and I was twenty-one; that is a charming age! Although to be up in the sixties, that is also a wonderful age! In my young days it was a much rarer event than it is now to come to Copenhagen, which we considered the town of all towns! My parents hadn't visited it for twenty years, but at last they were going, and I was going with them. We had talked about that journey for years before, and now it was actually coming true; it seemed as though a new life were beginning for me, and really in a way a new life did begin for me.

"There was such a bustle of sewing and packing; and when at last we were ready to start, such a crowd of friends came to bid us farewell! It was a long journey we had ahead of us. Shortly before noon we drove out of Odense in my parents' Holstein carriage, and our friends waved to us from the windows all the way down the street, till we passed through St. Jörgen's Gate. The weather was beautiful; the birds sang, and everything was joyful; we forgot what a long and tiresome road it was to Nyborg. We reached it toward evening; but the little sailing vessel had to wait for the mail, which didn't arrive until night. Then we got on board, and as far as we could see the wide, smooth waters lay before us. We lay down and went to sleep in our clothes. When I awoke and came on deck next morning, I could see nothing at all; a heavy fog covered everything. When I heard the cocks crowing, I knew it must be sunrise; bells were ringing, but I didn't know where; then the mist lifted, and we found we were still lying very close to Nyborg. Later in the day a wind came up, but it was against us; we tacked back and forth, and at last were lucky enough to reach Korsör by a little past eleven that night, having spent twenty-two hours to go sixteen miles!

It was good to get ashore, but it was dark; the lamps were weak, and it all seemed very strange to me, who had never been in any other town but Odense.

" 'Look!' said my father. 'Baggesen was born there! And Birckner lived in that house!' When I heard that, somehow the dark old town with its narrow little streets seemed to grow larger and brighter. And we were so glad to feel solid earth under our feet! There was no sleep for me that night, for I was so excited over all that I had seen and heard since I had left home the day before.

"Next morning we had to leave early; there was a terrible road ahead of us, with great bumps and holes as far as Slagelse, and not much better from there on, and we wanted to get to the Crab Inn early, so that on the same day we could reach Sorö and visit the Möllers' Emil, as we called him then; yes, he was your grandfather, my late husband, the dean. He was a student at Sorö then, and had just passed his second examination.

"That afternoon we reached the Crab Inn, which was a gallant place at that time, the very best inn on the whole trip, with the prettiest country around it. Yes, but you must all admit that it still is. Madame Plambek was an industrious hostess, and everything in her house was as smoothly scoured as a larding board. On the wall they had, framed under glass, Baggesen's letter to her; it was indeed worth seeing, and I greatly enjoyed looking at it. Then he went to Sorö and found Emil there. You can imagine how glad we were to see him, and he to see us. He was so thoughtful and charming; he took us to see the church, and the graves of Absalon and Holberg; he inspected the old monkish inscriptions with us, and sailed with us across the lake to Parnasset. It was the most wonderful evening I remember! I was thinking that to become a poet one had only to come to Sorö and meditate among those lovely, peaceful scenes. By moonlight we followed the 'Philosopher's Walk,' as it's called, the wonderful and lonely little path beside the lake that joins the highway near the Crab Inn. Emil stayed for supper with us, and my father and my mother declared he had grown so sensible and looked so well. It was almost Whitsuntide, and he promised that in a few days he would be in Copenhagen to join us and his family. Ah, those few hours in Sorö and at the Crab Inn I count among the choicest pearls of my life!

"Next morning we again started very early, for we had a long trip to Roskilde, where we wanted to see the church and Father wanted to visit an old school friend that evening. We spent that night in Roskilde and reached Copenhagen by noon the next day. So we had spent about three days on a journey that can now be made in three hours-Korsör to Copenhagen. The pearls on that way have not grown more costly-that could never be-but the string is new and wonderful.

"I stayed with my parents in Copenhagen for three weeks. Emil was with us for eighteen whole days, and when we returned to Fünen he went with us as far as Korsör. There, before we parted, we were betrothed. So it is no wonder I should call the road from Copenhagen to Korsör a string of pearls.

"Afterwards, when Emil received his post at Assens, we were married. We often talked about that journey to Copenhagen, and intended doing it again, but then your mother came along, and after her came her brothers and sisters, and with all of them there was so much to do and take care of! Then your grandfather was promoted and made a dean; yes, everything was happiness and joy, but we never got to Copenhagen again. No, I have never been there since, though we often thought and talked about it. Now I'm much too old to travel by rail, but still I'm right glad there is a railway; it's a real blessing, because it brings you young ones to me more quickly!

"Nowadays Odense is hardly farther from Copenhagen than in my youth it was from Nyborg; you can speed to Italy in the time it took us to reach Copenhagen! Yes, that is certainly something! It doesn't matter that I just sit here always; let the others travel, so long as they sometimes travel to me.

"And you needn't laugh at me, you young people, for sitting so still here, day after day! I have really a wonderful journey ahead of me; I shall soon have to travel at a speed far greater than the railway's. For when our Lord calls me I shall go to join your grandfather; and when you have completed your work on this dear earth, you too will join us; and then, if we talk over the days of our mortal life, believe me, dear children, I shall say then as I do now, 'From Copenhagen to Korsör is a perfect string of pearls!' "

文章来源:安徒生童话

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