Oscar Wilde – The Happy Prince
1888
THE HAPPY PRINCE
Oscar Wilde
Wilde, Oscar (1854-1900) - An Irish-born English poet, novelist, and playwright. Considered an eccentric, he was the leader of the aesthetic movement that advocated “art for art’s sake” and was once imprisoned for two years with hard labor for homosexual practices. The Happy Prince (1888) - A fairy tale about a swallow who falls out of love with a reed then lands on and falls in love with the stature of the Happy Prince.
THE HAPPY PRINCE
High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince.
He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold; for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.
He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.
“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.” “I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean white pinafores.
“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen one.”
“Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.
“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.
“It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows, “she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds.
Then, when the autumn came, they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. “She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtsies. “I admit that she is domestic,” he continued, “but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.”
“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
“You have been trifling with me,” he cried. “I am off to the Pyramids. Goodbye!” and he flew away.
All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.“Where shall I put up?” he said; “I hope the town has made preparations.” Then he saw the statue on the tall column. “I will put up there,” he cried; “it is a fine position with plenty of fresh air.” So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.
“I have a golden bedroom he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. ”What a curious thing!” he cried. “there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.” Then another drop fell.“What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” he said;“I must look for a good chimney-pot,” and he determined to fly away.
But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw- Ah! what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.
“Who are you?” he said.
“I am the Happy Prince.” “Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you have quite drenched me.” “When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, “I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the day time I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask
what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep.” “What, is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.
“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, “far away in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.” “I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. “My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will be going to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.” “Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.” “I don’t think I like boys,”answered the Swallow. “Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller’s sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.”
But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. “It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger.” “Thank you, little Swallow,”said the Prince.
So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.
He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover.
“How wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the power of love!” “I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,” she answered; “I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.”He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman’s thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings. “How cool I feel,” said the boy, “I must be getting better”; and he sank into a delicious slumber.
Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.” “That is because you have done a good action,” said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy. When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. “What a remarkable phenomenon,” said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. “A swallow in winter!” And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.
“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished stranger!” so he enjoyed himself very much.
When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Have you any commissions for Egypt?” he cried. “I am just starting.”“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?” “I am waited for in Egypt,”answered the Swallow. “To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water’s edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.”“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a
desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.” “I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. “Shall I take him another ruby?” “Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my eyes are all that I have left.
They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.” “Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that”; and he began to weep.
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.” So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away to the student’s garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.
“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,” and he looked quite happy.
The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes.
“Heave a-hoy!” they shouted as each chest came up. “I am going to Egypt!” cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.
“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?” “It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby
shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”
“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there stands a little match-girl.
She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.” “I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, “but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then.” “Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince,“do as I command you.” So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand.
“What a lovely bit of glass,” cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.
Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind now,”he said, “so I will stay with you always.” “No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to Egypt.” “I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet.
All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.
“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.” So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s
arms to try and keep themselves warm. “How hungry we are!”they said. “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.
Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.
“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy.”
Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. “We have bread now!” they cried.
Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.
The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker’s door when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.
But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more. “Good-bye, dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?” “I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.” “It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow. “I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?” And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.
At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost. Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!” he said.
“How shabby indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor, and they went up to look at it.
“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,” said the Mayor. “in fact, he is little better than a beggar!” “Little better than a beggar,” said the Town Councillors.
“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued the Mayor.“We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here.” And the town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.
So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. “As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor at the University.
Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. “We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and it shall be a statue of myself.” “Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.
“What a strange thing,” said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry.
“This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it away.” So they threw it on a dust heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.
“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.
“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.”
THE END
名家资料英文介绍：奥斯卡·王尔德 Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), Irish poet and dramatist whose reputation rests on his comic masterpieces Lady Windermere's Fan温夫人的扇子(1892) and The Importance of Being Earnest认真的重要性(1895). Among Wilde's other best-known works are his only novel The Picture of Dorian Gray多利安?格雷的画像(1891) and his fairy tales especially "The Happy Prince." Wilde was born on October 16, 1854 in Dublin to unconventional parents - his mother Lady Jane Francesca Wilde (1820-96), was a poet and journalist. His father was Sir William Wilde, an Irish antiquarian古物研究者,收集古物者（antiques）, gifted writer, and specialist in diseases of the eye and ear. Wilde studied at Portora Royal School, Enniskillen, County Fermanagh (1864-71), Trinity College, Dublin (1871-74) and Magdalen College, Oxford (1874-78). In 1878 Wilde received his B.A. and in the same year he moved to London. His lifestyle and humorous wit soon made him the spokesman for
2021南京大学英语语言文学考研参考书真题经验
南京大学 ——英语语言文学
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2014年考广外比较文化研究全过程
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Oscar Wilde - The Nightingale and the Rose
The Nightingale and the Rose Wilde, Oscar Published:1888 Categorie(s):Fiction, Short Stories, Juvenile Source:Wikisource
About Wilde: Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde(October16,1854–November30, 1900)was an Irish playwright,novelist,poet,and short story writer. Known for his barbed wit,he was one of the most successful playwrights of late Victorian London,and one of the greatest celebrities of his day.As the result of a famous trial,he suffered a dramatic downfall and was im-prisoned for two years of hard labour after being convicted of the offence of"gross indecency".The scholar H.Montgomery Hyde suggests this term implies homosexual acts not amounting to buggery in British legis-lation of the time. Source: Wikipedia Also available on Feedbooks for Wilde: ?The Picture of Dorian Gray(1891) ?The Importance of Being Earnest(1895) ?The Canterville Ghost(1887) ? A House of Pomegranates(1892) Note:This book is brought to you by Feedbooks https://www.sodocs.net/doc/d917948705.html, Strictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purposes.
oscar wilde 的名言
王尔德名言 Oscar Wilde quotes( When a love comes to an end, weaklings cry, efficient ones instantly find anoth er love and wise already had one in reserve. 当爱到了终点,软弱者哭泣,精明者马上去发现另外一个,聪明的早就预备了一个. No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did he would cease t o be an artist. 没有伟大的艺术家是看事物真实的样子,如果他这样那他就不再是艺术家 I represent to you all the sins you have never had the courage to commit 我提供给你们的是你们没勇气去犯的罪 One can always be kind to people one cares nothing about 总是善待别人的人对什么都不在意 We Irish are too poetical to be poets; we are a nation of brilliant failures, b ut we are the greatest talkers since the Greeks. 我们爱尔兰人太诗意以至不能做诗人,我们是才华横溢的失败者的国度,可我们是自希腊人以来最伟大的讲演者 What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise 痛苦的审判是那些虚伪的祝福 The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray. 情感的好处就是让我们误入歧途 Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best. 请不要射击钢琴师,他已经尽力了. The heart was made to be broken 心是用来碎的 The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius. 公众是惊人地宽容,可以原谅一切除了天才 Religions die when they are proved to be true. Science is the record of dead re ligions. 宗教会死亡,当他们需要证实是真的时候,科学是死亡宗教的记录 Why was I born with such contemporaries 为什么我会和这么多同代人一块出生呢? A poet can survive everything but a misprint. 诗歌可以拯救一切除了印刷错误 Only the shallow know themselves. 只有影子才懂他们自己
英国文学阅读与欣赏复习1-6单元
1、The earliest form of literature in Anglo-Saxon period was oral. 2、Anglo-Saxon 代表作《Beowulf》“national epic of the Anglo-Saxons”特征：alliteration 3、Religious poet Caedmon，story in Bible 4、The first great book in prose散文in English is 《Anglo-Saxon Chronicle》(AD1 to 1154) 5、Anglo- Norman period, French Latin and English, 重要形式metrical romance(源自法国文学) 关于love or knight adventure 或两者都有。最出名素材Legend of King Arthur 和round table knights. 代表作：《Sir Gawain and the Green Knight》 6、Preparation of Renaissance, Hundred Y ears' War,, the War of Roses. 先锋代表作《Piers Plowman》(by William Langland)著名人物Geoffrey Chaucer, 代表作《The Canterbury Tales》.风格satirical and narrative 7、同时期，a collection of the legends of King Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory(法翻英) 8、John Wyclif 翻译Bible（拉丁翻英）《Wyclif Bible》 9、一种folk literature 叫ballad（民谣） 10、Geoffrey Chaucer,(1340-1400), 受早期意大利文艺复习影响，《The House of Fame》《The Parliament of Fouls》《Troilus and Criseyde》《The Legend of Good Women》,死后第一个第一个葬在“Poet's Corner" 的诗人。特点：heroic couplet 11、文艺复兴到英国大概16世纪，the Tudors，English merchant class, agrarian revolution, clothing industry, the geographical exploration and trade expansion, reformation. 主要事情separate the English Church from Rome. 12、William Caxton 引进印刷术 13、文艺复兴时期三种文学：poetry, prose and drama 14、Drama 起源于宗教，miracle plays，morality plays(《Everyman》 15、Drama黄金时期伊丽莎白一世，appeal to all classes in society 16、Dramatists, "University Wits", 七个成员，代表Christopher Marlowe(先于Shakespeare)其成就Elizabethan tragedy, using blank verse.代表作《The tragical History of Doctor Faustus》德国传说，献身魔鬼。 17、Ben Jonson的喜剧，《Every Man in His Humor》,《V olpone》假死贪婪, 《The Silence Woman》, 《The Alchemist》and 《Bartholomew Fairs》他的To Celia 情诗 18、Shakespeare,17th, 第一部剧《A comedy of Errors》historical drama《Titus Andronicus》《Henry 4th》narrative poems 《V enus and Adonis》and《The Rape of Lucrece》.其他《Midsummer Night's Dream》《Much Ado About Nothing》四大悲剧《Hamlet》《Othello》《King Lear》《Macbeth》最后一篇《The Tempest》 19、文艺复兴初期，lyric poetry 代表《Thomas Wyatt》和《Earl of Surrey》sonnet 和blank verse 的引进，Wyatt开创新世界，人成为诗歌主题 20、Sonnet的代表人物Sidney(第一个写完十四行诗系列，sonnet sequence组诗，示爱) 和Shakespeare（不仅示爱，还affection for his young friend，搞基？？XD） 21、同时期，Edmund Spense r,,当时最有名，The Fairie Queene ,combining Arthur legend with religious and Platonic idealism and political commentary 22、Prose散文，Sir Thomas Mor e, early humanist, 代表作《Utopia》,对话形式，prose包括religious writing Translation the Authorized V ersion of the Bible, King James
Oscar wilde quotes
Oscar wilde quotes 我们皆深陷泥潭，但我们之中的某些人会仰望星空。 We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. 伟大的艺术家所看到的，从来都不是世界的本来面目， 一旦他看到了真实，他将不再是艺术家。 No great artist ever see things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist. 当一段爱走到末路时，弱者哭泣，能者另觅，而智者，早已“狡兔三穴”。 When a love comes to an end, weaklings cry, efficient ones instantly find another love, and wise already had one in reserve. 对于那些我们漠不关心的人，我们总能做到温文尔雅。 On can always be kind to people one cares nothing about. 女人是用来爱的，而不是理解。 Woman are meant to be loved, not to be understand. 结婚是误解的结果，男女因误会而结合，因了解而分开。 The marriage is the misunderstanding result, the men and women because of misunderstands unifies, because of understood that separates. 女人是用耳朵恋爱的，而男人却是用眼睛。 The woman is with the ear love, but the man is actually with the eye. 男人只会越变越老，绝不会越变越好。 The man more will only change older, more will not change better. 满口道德的男人，通常都是伪善的；而满口道德的女人，一定相貌平庸。 The full mouth morals' man, usually is hypocritical; But the full mouth morals' woman, certain facial expression is mediocre. 用好坏来群分人是愚蠢荒谬的，人只有两种——迷人，或者乏味。 It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious. 心就是用来碎的。 The heart was made to broken. 摆脱诱惑的唯一途径就是屈从于诱惑……除了诱惑，我什么都能抵御。 The only way to get ri d of temptation is to yield to it…… I can resist
奥斯卡·王尔德诗歌：玫瑰和云香
奥斯卡·王尔德诗歌：玫瑰和云香 玫瑰和云香听起来不错，以下是小编给大家整理的英文诗歌——奥斯卡·王尔德诗歌：玫瑰和云香。希望可以帮到大家 Roses And Rue By Oscar Wilde. 奥斯卡·王尔德：玫瑰和云香 Edvard Hagerup Grieg - Peer Gynt Orchestral Suite No 1 Op 46, Aase's Death 背景音乐：格里格-管弦乐组曲《培尔·金特》第一组曲Op.46-《奥塞之死》Rupert Penry Jones 朗读：鲁伯特·彭利·琼斯 Could we dig up this long-buried treasure, 是否我们还能掘出这掩埋已久的珍宝 Were it worth the pleasure, 它的珍贵是否值得 We never could learn love's song, 我们永远无法学会爱之歌 We are parted too long. 因为我们分开太久 Could the passionate past that is fled 是否这已然消逝的激情往昔 Call back its dead, 还能召回它的亡者 Could we live it all over again, 我们能否重新经历 Were it worth the pain! 那痛苦是否值得 I remember we used to meet 我记得我们常常相见
By an ivied seat, 在攀著长春藤的座椅 And you warbled each pretty word 你婉转颂唱每个美丽的字句 With the air of a bird; 如小鸟般圆润清丽 And your voice had a quaver in it, 而你的声音中有一种颤音 Just like a linnet, 一如朱雀，并且抖动 And shook, as the blackbird's throat 如山鸟的喉咙 With its last big note; 发出它最后的洪亮音符 And your eyes, they were green and grey 而你的眼睛，绿色和灰色 Like an April day, 有如四月天 But lit into amethyst 当我弯下腰亲吻时 When I stooped and kissed; 却发亮如紫水晶 And your mouth, it would never smile 而你的嘴，并不微笑 For a long, long while, 持续很长，很久一阵子 Then it rippled all over with laughter 然后笑声才如涟漪向四处波动 Five minutes after.
王尔德 The Young King Oscar Wilde
The Young King Oscar Wilde IT was the night before the day fixed for his coronation, and the young King was sitting alone in his beautiful chamber. His courtiers had all taken their leave of him, bowing their heads to the ground, according to the ceremonious usage of the day, and had retired to the Great Hall of the Palace, to receive a few last lessons from the Professor of Etiquette; there being some of them who had still quite natural manners, which in a courtier is, I need hardly say, a very grave offence. The lad - for he was only a lad, being but sixteen years of age - was not sorry at their departure, and had flung himself back with a deep sigh of relief on the soft cushions of his embroidered couch, lying there, wild-eyed and open-mouthed, like a brown woodland Faun, or some young animal of the forest newly snared by the hunters. And, indeed, it was the hunters who had found him, coming upon him almost by chance as, bare-limbed and pipe in hand, he was following the flock of the poor goatherd who had brought him up, and whose son he had always fancied himself to be. The child of the old King's only daughter by a secret marriage with one much beneath her in station - a stranger, some said, who, by the wonderful magic of his lute-playing, had made the young Princess love him; while others spoke of an artist from Rimini, to whom the Princess had shown much, perhaps too much honour, and who had suddenly disappeared from the city, leaving his work in the Cathedral unfinished - he had been, when but a week old, stolen away from his mother's side, as she slept, and given into the charge of a common peasant and his wife, who were without children of their own, and lived in a remote part of the forest, more than a day's ride from the town. Grief, or the plague, as the court physician stated, or, as some suggested, a swift Italian poison administered in a cup of spiced wine, slew, within an hour of her wakening, the white girl who had given him birth, and as the trusty messenger who bare the child across his saddle-bow, stooped from his weary horse and knocked at the rude door of the goatherd's hut, the body of the Princess was being lowered into an open grave that had been dug in a deserted churchyard, beyond the city gates, a grave where, it was said, that another body was also lying, that of a young man of marvellous and foreign beauty, whose hands were tied behind him with a knotted cord, and whose breast was stabbed with many red wounds. Such, at least, was the story that men whispered to each other. Certain it was that the old King, when on his death-bed, whether moved by remorse for his great sin, or merely desiring that the kingdom should not pass away from his line, had had the lad sent for, and, in the presence of the Council, had acknowledged him as his heir. And it seems that from the very first moment of his recognition he had shown signs of that strange passion for beauty that was destined to have so great an influence over his life. Those who accompanied him to the suite of rooms set apart for his service, often spoke of the cry of pleasure that broke from his lips when he saw the delicate raiment and rich jewels that had been prepared for him, and of the almost fierce joy with which he flung aside his rough leathern tunic and coarse sheepskin cloak. He missed, indeed, at times the fine freedom of his forest life, and was always apt to chafe at the tedious Court ceremonies that occupied so much of each day, but the wonderful palace - Joyeuse, as they called it - of which he now found himself lord, seemed to him to be a
【奥斯卡瓦尔德 oscarwilde语录】
！【奥斯卡瓦尔德oscarwilde语录】 ·！【奥斯卡·瓦尔德Oscar·Wilde语录】·· 1.逢场作戏和终身不渝之间的区别只在于逢场作戏稍微长一些。 2.爱，始于自我欺骗，终于欺骗他人。这就是所谓的浪漫。 3.浪漫的精髓就在于它充满种种可能。 4.人是理性动物，但当他被要求按照理性的要求行动时，可又要发脾气了。 5.没有人富有到可以赎回自己的过去。 6.真相很少纯粹，也决不简单。7.一生的浪漫，从自恋开始。8.我们都生活在阴沟里，但仍有人仰望星空。9.大多数人发现他们从未后悔的事情只是他们的错误，但发现时已经太晚了。10.什么是离婚的主要原因？结婚。11.当爱情走到尽头，软弱者哭个不停，有效率的马上去寻找下一个目标，而聪明的早就预备了下一个。12.伟大的艺术家所看到的，从来都不是世界的本来面目。一旦他看透了，他就不再是艺术家。13.我给你们讲述的是所有你们没勇气去犯的罪孽。14.一个人总是可以善待他毫不在意的人。15.心是用来碎的。16.宗教一旦被证明是正确时就会消亡。科学便是已消亡宗教的记录。17.只有浅薄的人才了解自己。18.摆脱诱惑的唯一方式是臣服于诱惑……我能抗拒一切，除了诱惑。19.不满是个人或民族迈向进步的第一步。20.我喜欢自
言自语，因为这样节约时间，而且不会有人跟我争论。21.格言是智慧耐用的替代品。22.梦想家只能在月光下找到前进的方向，他为此遭受的惩罚是比所有人提前看到曙光。 23.每个圣人都有过去，每个罪人都有未来。24.生活是世上最罕见的事情，大多数人只是存在，仅此而已。25.我喜欢有未来的男人和有过去的女人。26.悲观主义者是这种人：当他可以从两种罪恶中选择时，他把两种都选了。 27.社会仅仅以一种精神概念而存在，真实世界中只有个体存在。28.一个愤世嫉俗的人知道所有东西的价格，却不知道任何东西的价值。29.我喜欢人甚于原则，此外我还喜欢没原则的人甚于世界上的一切。30.我不想谋生；我想生活。31.适度是极其致命的事情。过度带来的成功是无可比拟的。32.我想所有迷人的人都是被宠爱着的，这是他们吸引力来源的秘密。33.没有比冷静更让人恼火的。 34.奚落是庸才对天才的颂歌。35.什么也不做是世上最难的事情，最困难并且最智慧。36.平常的财宝会被偷走，而真正的财富则不会。你灵魂里无限珍贵的东西是无法被夺走的。37.恨是盲目的，爱亦然。38.注意穿着打扮是必要的。而拥有生活目标却并非如此。39.永远宽恕你的敌人，没有什么能比这个更让他们恼怒的了。40.孩子最初爱他们父母，等大一些他们评判父母；然后有些时候，他们原谅父母。41.生活中只有两种悲剧:一个是没有得
Oscar wilde名句
Oscar wilde A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her. Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much. America had often been discovered before Columbus, but it had always been hushed up. America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between. Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination. Arguments are to be avoided; they are always vulgar and often convincing. At twilight, nature is not without loveliness, though perhaps its chief use is to illustrate quotations from the poets. Biography lends to death a new terror. Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months. Genius is born--not paid. I always like to know everything about my new friends, and nothing about my old ones. I am not young enough to know everything. I think that God in creating Man somewhat overestimated his ability.
Oscar Wilde(王尔德幽默名言)
王尔德幽默名言 I can resist everything except temptation. 我可以抗拒一切，诱惑除外。 A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. 不够真诚是危险的，太真诚则绝对是致命的。 I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I’m saying. 我简直太聪明了，有时连我自己都不知道自己在说什么。 I love acting. It is so much more real than life. 我喜欢演戏。与人生相比，演戏更真实。 I was working on the proof of one of my poems all morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again. 我整个早上都在校对自己的一首诗，我去掉了一个逗号。下午我又把它加了上去。 In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. 世界上只有两种悲剧，一种是一个人没有得到他想要的，另一种是他得到了。 It is very easy to endure the difficulties of one's enemies. It is the successes of one's friends that are hard to bear. 来自敌人的困难可以忍，来自朋友的成功则无可忍。 True friends stab you in the front. 当面扎刀的是真朋友。
Oscar Wilde – The Happy Prince
1888 THE HAPPY PRINCE Oscar Wilde Wilde, Oscar (1854-1900) - An Irish-born English poet, novelist, and playwright. Considered an eccentric, he was the leader of the aesthetic movement that advocated “art for art’s sake” and was once imprisoned for two years with hard labor for homosexual practices. The Happy Prince (1888) - A fairy tale about a swallow who falls out of love with a reed then lands on and falls in love with the stature of the Happy Prince.
THE HAPPY PRINCE High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold; for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt. He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not. “Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.” “I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue. “He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean white pinafores. “How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen one.” “Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming. One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her. “Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer. “It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows, “she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds.