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安徒生童话故事第20篇:梦神Ole-Luk-Oie,the Dream-God
在平平淡淡的日常中,大家都经常接触到童话吧,童话对儿童来说具有重要的发展价值,对教师和父母来说具有重要的教育学意义。那么,都有哪些经典童话故事呢?下面是小编收集整理的安徒生童话故事第20篇:梦神Ole-Luk-Oie,the Dream-God,欢迎大家借鉴与参考,希望对大家有所帮助。
安徒生童话故事第:梦神Ole-Luk-Oie,the Dream-God
世界上没有谁能像奥列·路却埃那样,会讲那么多的故事——他才会讲呢!
天黑了以后,当孩子们还乖乖地坐在桌子旁边或坐在凳子上的时候,奥列·路却埃就来了。他轻轻地走上楼梯,因为他是穿着袜子走路的;他不声不响地把门推开,于是“嘘!”
他在孩子的眼睛里喷了一点甜蜜的牛奶——只是一点儿,一丁点儿,但已足够使他们张不开眼睛。这样他们就看不见他了。他在他们背后偷偷地走着,轻柔地吹着他们的脖子,于是他们的脑袋便感到昏沉。啊,是的!但这并不会伤害他们,因为奥列·路却埃是非常心疼小孩子的。他只是要求他们放安静些,而这只有等他们被送上床以后才能做到:他必须等他们安静下来以后才能对他们讲故事。
当孩子们睡着了以后,奥列·路却埃就在床边坐上来。他穿的衣服是很漂亮的:他的上衣是绸子做的,不过什么颜色却很难讲,因为它一会儿发红,一会儿发绿,一会儿发蓝——完全看他怎样转动而定。他的每条胳膊下面夹着一把伞。一把伞上绘着图画;他就把这把伞在好孩子上面撑开,使他们一整夜都能梦得见美丽的故事。可是另外一把伞上面什么也没有画:他把这把伞在那些顽皮的孩子上面张开,于是这些孩子就睡得非常糊涂,当他们在早晨醒来的时候,觉得什么梦也没有做过。
现在让我们来听听,奥列·路却埃怎样在整个星期中每天晚上来看一个名叫哈尔马的孩子,对他讲了一些什么故事。
那一共有七个故事,因为每个星期有七天。
星期一
“听着吧,”奥列·路却埃在晚上把哈尔马送上床以后说;
“现在我要装饰一番。”于是花盆里的花儿都变成了大树,长树枝在屋子的天花板下沿着墙伸展开来,使得整个屋子看起来像一个美丽的花亭。这些树枝上都开满了花,每朵花比玫瑰还要美丽,而且发出那么甜的香气,叫人简直想尝尝它。——它比果子酱还要甜。水果射出金子般的光;甜面包张开了口,露出里面的葡萄干。这一切是说不出地美。不过在此同时,在哈尔马放课本的桌子抽屉内,有一阵可怕的哭声发出来了。
“这是什么呢?”奥列·路却埃说。他走到桌子那儿去,把抽屉拉开。原来是写字的石板在痛苦地抽筋,因为一个错误的数字跑进总和里去,几乎要把它打散了。写石板用的那支粉笔在系住它的那根线上跳跳蹦蹦,像一只小狗。它很想帮助总和,但是没有办法下手——接着哈尔马的练习簿里面又发出一阵哀叫声——这听起来真叫人难过。每一页上的大楷字母一个接着一个地排成直行,每个字旁边有一个小楷宇,也成为整齐的直行。这就是练字的范本。在这些字母旁边还有一些字母。它们以为它们跟前面的字母一样好看。这就是哈尔马所练的字,不过它们东倒西歪,越出了它们应该看齐的线条。
“你们要知道,你们应该这样站着,”练习范本说。“请看——像这样略为斜一点,轻松地一转!”
“啊,我们倒愿意这样做呢,”哈尔马写的字母说,“不过我们做不到呀;我们的身体不太好。”
“那么你们得吃点药才成,”奥列·路却埃说。
“哦,那可不行,”它们叫起来,马上直直地站起来,叫人看到非常舒服。
“是的,现在我们不能讲什么故事了,”奥列·路却埃说。
“我现在得叫它们操练一下。一,二!一,二!”他这样操练着字母。它们站着,非常整齐,非常健康,跟任何范本一样。
不过当奥列·路却埃走了、早晨哈尔马起来看看它们的时候,它们仍然是像以前那样,显得愁眉苦脸。
星期二
当哈尔马上上床以后,奥列·路却埃就在房里所有的家具上把那富有魔力的奶轻轻地喷了一口。于是每一件家具就开始谈论起自己来,只有那只痰盂独自个儿站着一声不响。它有点儿恼,觉得大家都很虚荣,只顾谈论着自己,思想着自己,一点也不考虑到谦虚地站在墙角边、让大家在自己身上吐痰的它。
衣柜顶上挂着一张大幅图画,它嵌在镀金的框架里。这是一幅风景画。人们在里面可以看到一株很高的古树,草丛中的花朵,一个大湖和跟它联着的一条河,那条河环绕着火树林,流过许多宫殿,一直流向大洋。
奥列·路却埃在这画上喷了一口富有魔力的奶,于是画里的鸟雀便开始唱起歌来,树枝开始摇动起来,云块也在飞行——人人可以看到云的影子在这片风景上掠过。
现在奥列·路却埃把小小的哈尔马抱到框架上去,而哈尔马则把自己的脚伸进画里去——一直伸到那些长得很高的草里去。于是他就站在那儿。太阳穿过树枝照到他身上。他跑到湖旁边去,坐上一只停在那儿的小船。这条小船涂上了红白两种颜色,它的帆发出银色的光。六只头上戴着金冠、额上戴有一颗光耀的蓝星的天鹅,拖着这条船漂过这青翠的森林——这里的树儿讲出一些关于强盗和巫婆的故事,花儿讲出一些关于美丽的小山精水怪的故事,讲些蝴蝶所告诉过它们的故事。
许多美丽的、鳞片像金银一样的鱼儿,在船后面游着。有时它们跳跃一下,在水里弄出一阵“扑通”的响声。许多蓝色的、红色的、大大小小的鸟儿,排成长长的两行在船后面飞。蚊蚋在跳着舞,小金虫在说:“唧!唧!”它们都要跟着哈尔马来,而且每一位都能讲一个故事。
这才算得是一次航行呢!森林有时显得又深又黑,有时又显得像一个充满了太阳光和花朵的、极端美丽的花园,还有雄伟的、用玻璃砖和大理石砌成的宫殿。阳台上立着好几位公主。她们都是哈尔马所熟悉的一些小女孩——因为他跟她们在一起玩耍过。她们伸出手来,每只手托着一般卖糕饼的女人所能卖出的最美丽的糖猪。哈尔马在每一只糖猪旁边经过的时候,就顺手去拿,不过公主们握得那么紧,结果每人只得到一半——公主得到一小半,哈尔马得到一大半。每个宫殿旁边都有一些小小的王子在站岗。他们背着金刀,向他撒下许多葡萄干和锡兵。他们真不愧称为王子!
哈尔马张着帆航行,有时通过森林,有时通过大厅,有时直接通过一个城市的中心。他来到了他保姆所住的那个城市。当他还是一个小宝宝的时候,这位保姆常常把他抱在怀里。她一直是非常爱护他的。她对他点头,对他招手,同时念着她自己为哈尔马编的那首诗:
亲爱的哈尔马,我对你多么想念,
你小的时候,我多么喜欢吻你,
吻你的前额、小嘴和那么鲜红的脸——
我的宝贝,我是多么地想念你!
我听着你喃喃地学着最初的话语,
可是我不得不对你说一声再见。
愿上帝在世界上给你无限的幸福,
你——天上降下的一个小神仙。
所有的鸟儿也一同唱起来,花儿在梗子上也跳起舞来,许多老树也点起头来,正好像奥列·路却埃是在对它们讲故事一样。
星期三
嗨!外面的雨下得多么大啊!哈尔马在梦中都可以听到雨声。当奥列·路却埃把窗子推开的时候,水简直就流到窗槛上来了。外面成了一个湖,但是居然还有一条漂亮的船停在屋子旁边哩。
“小小的哈尔马,假如你跟我一块儿航行的话,”奥列·路却埃说,“你今晚就可以开到外国去,明天早晨再回到这儿来。”
于是哈尔马就穿上他星期日穿的漂亮衣服,踏上这条美丽的船。天气立刻就晴朗起来了。他们驶过好几条街道,绕过教堂。现在在他们面前展开一片汪洋大海。他们航行了很久,最后陆地就完全看不见了。他们看到了一群鹳鸟。这些鸟儿也是从它们的家里飞出来的,飞到温暖的国度里去。它们排成一行,一个接着一个地飞,而且已经飞得很远——很远!它们之中有一只已经飞得很倦了,它的翅膀几乎不能再托住它向前飞。它是这群鸟中最后的一只。不久它就远远地落在后面。最后它张着翅膀慢慢地坠下来了。虽然它仍旧拍了两下翅膀,但是一点用也没有。它的脚触到了帆索,于是它就从帆上滑下来。砰!它落到甲板上来了。
船上的侍役把它捉住,放进鸡屋里的鸡、鸭和吐绶鸡群中去。这只可怜的鹳鸟在它们中间真是垂头丧气极了。
“你们看看这个家伙吧!”母鸡婆们齐声说。
于是那只雄吐绶鸡就装模作样地摆出一副架子,问鹳鸟是什么人。鸭子们后退了几步,彼此推着:“叫呀!叫呀!”
鹳鸟告诉它们一些关于炎热的非洲、金字塔和在沙漠上像野马一样跑的鸵鸟的故事。不过鸭子们完全不懂得它所讲的这些东西,所以它们又彼此推了几下!
“我们有一致的意见,那就是它是一个傻瓜!”
“是的,它的确是很傻,”雄吐绶鸡说,咯咯地叫起来。
于是鹳鸟就一声不响,思念着它的非洲。
“你的那双腿瘦长得可爱,”雄吐绶鸡说,“请问你,它们值多少钱一亚伦②?”
“嘎!嘎!嘎!”所有的鸭子都讥笑起来。不过鹳鸟装做没有听见。
“你也可以一起来笑一阵子呀,”雄吐绶鸡对它说,“因为这话说得很有风趣。难道你觉得这说得太下流了不成?嗨!嗨!
它并不是一个什么博学多才的人!我们还是自己来说笑一番吧。”
于是它们都咕咕地叫起来,鸭子也嘎嘎地闹起来,“呱!咕!呱!咕!”它们自己以为幽默得很,简直不成样子。
可是哈尔马走到鸡屋那儿去,把鸡屋的后门打开,向鹳鸟喊了一声。鹳鸟跳出来,朝他跳到甲板上来。现在它算是得着休息了。它似乎在向哈尔马点着头,表示谢意。于是它展开双翼,向温暖的国度飞去。不过母鸡婆都在咕咕地叫着,鸭子在嘎嘎地闹着,同时雄吐绶鸡的脸涨得通红。
“明天我将把你们拿来烧汤吃。”哈尔马说。于是他就醒了,发现仍然躺在自己的小床上。奥列·路却埃这晚为他布置的航行真是奇妙。
星期四
“我告诉你,”奥列·路却埃说,“你决不要害怕。我现在给你一个小耗子看。”于是他向他伸出手来,手掌上托着一个轻巧的、可爱的动物。“它来请你去参加一个婚礼。有两个小耗子今晚要结为夫妇。它们住在你妈妈的食物储藏室的地下:那应该是一个非常可爱的住所啦!”
“不过我怎样能够钻进地下的那个小耗子洞里去呢?”哈尔马问。
“我来想办法,”奥列·路却埃说,“我可以使你变小呀。”
于是他在哈尔马身上喷了一口富有魔力的奶。这孩子马上就一点一点地缩小,最后变得不过只有指头那么大了。
“现在你可以把锡兵的制服借来穿穿:我想它很合你的身材。一个人在社交的场合,穿起一身制服是再漂亮也不过的。”
“是的,一点也不错。”哈尔马说。
不一会儿他穿得像一个很潇洒的兵士。
“劳驾你坐在你妈妈的顶针上,”小耗子说,“让我可以荣幸地拉着你走。”
“我的天啦!想不到要这样麻烦小姐!”哈尔马说。这么着,他们就去参加小耗子的婚礼了。
他们先来到地下的一条长长的通道里。这条通道的高度,恰好可以让他们拉着顶针直穿过去。这整条路是用引火柴照着的。
“你闻闻!这儿的味道有多美!”耗子一边拉,一边说。
“这整条路全用腊肉皮擦过一次。再也没有什么东西比这更好!”
现在他们来到了举行婚礼的大厅。所有的耗子太太们都站在右手边,她们互相私语和憨笑,好像在逗着玩儿似的。所有的耗子先生们都立在左手边,他们在用前掌摸着自己的胡子。于是,在屋子的中央,新郎和新娘出现了。他们站在一个啃空了的乳饼的圆壳上。他们在所有的客人面前互相吻得不可开交——当然喽,他们是订过婚的,马上就要举行结婚礼了。
客人们川流不息地涌进来。耗子们几乎能把对方踩死。这幸福的一对站在门中央,弄得人们既不能进来,也不能出去。
像那条通道一样,这屋子也是用腊肉皮擦得亮亮的,而这点腊肉皮也就是他们所吃的酒菜了。不过主人还是用盘子托出一粒豌豆作为点心。这家里的一位小耗子在它上面啃出了这对新婚夫妇的名字——也可以说是他们的第一个字母吧。这倒是一件很新奇的花样哩。
所有来参加的耗子都认为这婚礼是很漂亮的,而且招待也非常令人满意。
哈尔马又坐着顶针回到家里来;他算是参加了一个高等的社交场合,不过他得把自己缩做一团,变得渺小,同时还要穿上一件锡兵的制服。
星期五
“你决不会相信,有多少成年人希望跟我在一道啊!”奥列·路却埃说,“尤其是那些做过坏事的人。他们常常对我说:‘小小的奥列啊,我们合不上眼睛,我们整夜躺在床上,望着自己那些恶劣的行为——这些行为像丑恶的小鬼一样,坐在我们的床沿上,在我们身上浇着沸水。请你走过来把他们赶走,好叫我们好好地睡一觉吧!’于是他们深深地叹了一口气,我们很愿意给你酬劳。晚安吧,奥列。钱就在窗槛上。不过,我并不是为了钱而做事的呀。”奥列·路却埃说。
“我们今晚将做些什么呢?”哈尔马问。
“对,我不知道你今晚有没有兴趣再去参加一个婚礼。这个婚礼跟昨天的不同。你妹妹的那个大玩偶——他的样子像一个大男人,名字叫做赫尔曼——将要和一个叫贝尔达的玩偶结婚。此外,今天还是这玩偶的生日,因此他们收到很多的礼品。”
“是的,我知道这事。”哈尔马说。“无论什么时候,只要这些玩偶想要有新衣服穿,我的妹妹就让他们来一个生日庆祝会,或举行一次婚礼。这类的事儿已经发生过一百次了!”
“是的,不过今夜举行的是一百零一次的婚礼呀。当这一百零一次过去以后,一切就会完了。正因为这样,所以这次婚礼将会是非常华丽。你再去看一次吧!”
哈尔马朝桌子看了一眼。那上面有一座纸做的房子,窗子里有亮光;外面站着的锡兵全在敬礼。新郎和新娘坐在地上,靠着桌子的腿,若有所思的样子,而且并不是没有道理的。奥列·路却埃,穿着祖母的黑裙子,特来主持这个婚礼。
当婚礼终了以后,各种家具合唱起一支美丽的歌——歌是铅笔为他们编的。它是随着兵士击鼓的节奏而唱出的:
我们的歌像一阵风,
来到这对新婚眷属的房中;
他们站得像棍子一样挺直,
他们都是手套皮所制!
万岁,万岁!棍子和手套皮!
我们在风雨中高声地贺喜!
于是他们开始接受礼品——不过他们拒绝收受任何食物,因为他们打算以爱情为食粮而生活下去。
“我们现在到乡下去呢,还是到外国去作一趟旅行?”新郎问。
他们去请教那位经常旅行的燕子和那位生了五窠孩子的老母鸡。燕子讲了许多关于那些美丽的温带国度的事情:那儿熟了的葡萄沉甸甸地、一串一串地挂着;那儿的空气是温和的;那儿的山岳发出这里从来见不到的光彩。
“可是那儿没有像我们这儿的油菜呀!”老母鸡说。“有一年夏天我跟孩子们住在乡下。那儿有一个沙坑。我们可以随便到那儿去,在那儿抓土;我们还得到许可钻进一个长满了油菜的菜园里去。啊,那里面是多么青翠啊!我想象不出还有什么东西比那更美!”
“不过这根油菜梗跟那根油菜梗不是一个样儿,”燕子说。
“而且这儿的天气老是那样坏!”
“人们可以习惯于这种天气的。”老母鸡说。
“可是这儿很冷,老是结冰。”
“那对于油菜是非常好的!”老母鸡说。“此外这儿的天气也会暖和起来的呀。四年以前,我们不是有过一连持续了五星期的夏天吗?那时天气是那么热,你连呼吸都感到困难;而且我们还不像他们那样有有毒的动物,此外我们也没有强盗。
谁不承认我们的国家最美丽,谁就是一个恶棍——那么他就不配住在此地了。”于是老母鸡哭起来。“我也旅行过啦!我坐在一个鸡圈里走过150里路:我觉得旅行没有一点儿乐趣!”
“是的,老母鸡是一个有理智的女人!”玩偶贝尔达说。
“我对于上山去旅行也不感到兴趣,因为你无非是爬上去,随后又爬下来罢了。不,我们还是走到门外的沙坑那儿去,在油菜中间散散步吧。”
问题就这么解决了。
星期六
“现在讲几个故事给我听吧!”小小的哈尔马说;这时奥列·路却埃已经把他送上了床。
“今晚我们没有时间讲故事了,”奥列回答说,同时把他那把非常美丽的雨伞在这孩子的头上撑开。“现在请你看看这几个中国人吧!”
整个的雨伞看起来好像一个中国的大碗:里面有些蓝色的树,拱起的桥,上面还有小巧的中国人在站着点头。
“明天我们得把整个世界洗刷得焕然一新,”奥列说,“因为明天是一个神圣的日子——礼拜日。我将到教堂的尖塔顶上去,告诉那些教堂的小精灵把钟擦得干干净净,好叫它们能发出美丽的声音来。我将走到田野里去,看风儿有没有把草和叶上的灰尘扫掉;此外,最巨大的一件工作是:我将要把天上的星星摘下来,把它们好好地擦一下。我要把它们兜在我的围裙里。可是我得先记下它们的号数,同时也得记下嵌住它们的那些洞口的号数,好使它们将来能回到原来的地方去;否则它们就嵌不稳,结果流星就会太多了,因为它们会一个接着一个地落下来。”
“请听着!您知道,路却埃先生,”一幅老画像说;它挂在哈尔马挨着睡的那堵墙上,“我是哈尔马的曾祖父。您对这孩子讲了许多故事,我很感谢您;不过请您不要把他的头脑弄得糊里糊涂。星星是不可以摘下来的,而且也不能擦亮!星星都是一些球体,像我们的地球一样。它们之所以美妙,就正是为了这个缘故。”
“我感谢您,老曾祖父,”奥列·路却埃说,“我感谢您!
您是这一家之长。您是这一家的始祖。但是我比您还要老!我是一个年老的异教徒:罗马人和希腊人把我叫做梦神。我到过最华贵的家庭;我现在仍然常常去!我知道怎样对待伟大的人和渺小的人。现在请您讲您的事情吧!”——于是奥列·路却埃拿了他的伞走出去了。
“嗯,嗯!这种年头,一个人连发表意见都不成!”这幅老画像发起牢骚来。
于是哈尔马就醒来了。
星期日
“晚安!”奥列·路却埃说;哈尔马点点头,于是他便跑过去,把曾祖父的画像翻过来面对着墙,好叫他不再像昨天那样,又来插嘴。
“现在你得讲几个故事给我听:关于生活在一个豆荚里的五颗青豌豆的故事;关于一只公鸡的脚向母鸡的脚求爱的故事;关于一根装模作样的缝补针自以为是缝衣针的故事。”
“好东西享受太过也会生厌的呀!”奥列·路却埃说。“您知道,我倒很想给你一样东西看看。我把我的弟弟介绍给你吧。他也叫做奥列·路却埃;不过他拜访任何人,从来不超过一次以上。当他到来的时候,总是把他所遇见的人抱在马上,讲故事给他听。他只知道两个故事。一个是极端的美丽,世上任何人都想象不到;另一个则是非常丑恶和可怕,——我没有办法形容出来。”
于是奥列·路却埃把小小的哈尔马抱到窗前,说:“你现在可以看到我的弟弟——另一位叫做奥列·路却埃的人了。也有人把他叫做‘死神’!你要知道,他并不像人们在画册中把他画成一架骸骨那样可怕。不,那骸骨不过是他上衣上用银丝绣的一个图案而已。这上衣是一件很美丽的骑兵制服。在他后面,在马背上,飘着一件黑天鹅绒做的斗篷。请看他奔驰的样子吧!”
哈尔马看到这位奥列·路却埃怎样骑着马飞驰过去,怎样把年轻人和年老的人抱到自己的马上。有些他放在自己的前面坐着,有些放在自己的后面坐着。不过他老是先问:“你们的通知簿上是怎样写的?”他们齐声回答说:“很好。”他说:“好吧,让我亲自来看看吧。”于是每人不得不把自己的通知簿交出来看。那些簿子上写着“很好”和“非常好”等字样的人坐在他的前面,听一个美丽的故事;那些簿子上写着“勉强”“尚可”等字样的人只得坐在他的后面,听一个非常可怕的故事。后者发着抖,大声哭泣。他们想要跳下马来,可是这点他们做不到,因为他们立刻就紧紧地生在马背上了。
“不过死神是一位最可爱的奥列·路却埃啦,”哈尔马说,“我并不怕他!”
“你也不需要怕他呀,”奥列·路却埃说,“你只要时时注意,使你的通知簿上写上好的评语就得了!”
“是的,这倒颇有教育意义!”曾祖父的画像叽咕地说。
“提提意见究竟还是有用的啦。”现在他算是很满意了。
你看,这就是奥列·路却埃的故事。今晚他自己还能对你多讲一点!
①他是丹麦小孩子的一个好朋友。谁都认识他。在丹麦文中他叫奥列·路却埃(Ole Lukcie),“奥列”是丹麦极普通的人名,“路却埃”是丹麦文里Lukke和cie两个字的简写,意思是“闭起眼睛”。
②亚伦(Alen)是丹麦量长度的单位,等于0.627米。
梦神英文版:
Ole-Luk-Oie,the Dream-God
THERE is nobody in the world who knows so many stories as Ole-Luk-Oie, or who can relate them so nicely.In the evening, while the children are seated at the table or in their little chairs, he comes up the stairs very softly, for he walks in his socks, then he opens the doors without the slightest noise, and throws a small quantity of very fine dust in their eyes, just enough to prevent them from keeping them open, and so they do not see him.Then he creeps behind them, and blows softly upon their necks,
till their heads begin to droop.But Ole-Luk-Oie does not wish to hurt them, for he is very fond of children, and only wants them to be quiet that he may relate to them pretty stories, and they never are quiet until they are in bed and asleep.As soon as they are asleep, Ole-Luk-Oie seats himself upon the bed.He is nicely dressed; his coat is made of silken stuff; it is impossible to say of what color, for it changes from green to red, and from red to blue as he turns from side to side.Under each arm he carries an umbrella; one of them, with pictures on the inside, he spreads over the good children, and then they dream the most beautiful stories the whole night.But the other umbrella has no pictures, and this he holds over the naughty children so that they sleep heavily, and wake in the morning without having dreamed at all.
Now we shall hear how Ole-Luk-Oie came every night during a whole week to the little boy named Hjalmar, and what he told him.There were seven stories, as there are seven days in the week.
Monday
NOW pay attention,” said Ole-Luk-Oie, in the evening, when Hjalmar was in bed, “and I will decorate the room.”
Immediately all the flowers in the flower-pots became large trees, with long branches reaching to the ceiling, and stretching along the walls, so that the whole room was like a greenhouse.All the branches were loaded with flowers, each flower as beautiful and as fragrant as a rose; and, had any one tasted them, he would have found them sweeter even than jam.The fruit glittered like gold, and there were cakes so full of plums that they were nearly bursting.It was incomparably beautiful.At the same time sounded dismal moans from the table-drawer in which lay Hjalmar’s school books.
“What can that be now?” said Ole-Luk-Oie, going to the table and pulling out the drawer.
It was a slate, in such distress because of a false number in the sum, that it had almost broken itself to pieces.The pencil pulled and tugged at its string as if it were a little dog that wanted to help, but could not.
And then came a moan from Hjalmar’s copy-book.Oh, it was quite terrible to hear! On each leaf stood a row of capital letters, every one having a small letter by its side.This formed a copy; under these were other letters, which Hjalmar had written: they fancied they looked like the copy, but they were mistaken; for they were leaning on one side as if they intended to fall over the pencil-lines.
“See, this is the way you should hold yourselves,” said the copy.“Look here, you should slope thus, with a graceful curve.”
“Oh, we are very willing to do so, but we cannot,” said Hjalmar’s letters; “we are so wretchedly made.”
“You must be scratched out, then,” said Ole-Luk-Oie.
“Oh, no!” they cried, and then they stood up so gracefully it was quite a pleasure to look at them.
“Now we must give up our stories, and exercise these letters,” said Ole-Luk-Oie; “One, two—one, two—” So he drilled them till they stood up gracefully, and looked as beautiful as a copy could look.But after Ole-Luk-Oie was gone, and Hjalmar looked at them in the morning, they were as wretched and as awkward as ever.
Tuesday
AS soon as Hjalmar was in bed, Ole-Luk-Oie touched, with his little magic wand, all the furniture in the room, which immediately began to chatter, and each article only talked of itself.
Over the chest of drawers hung a large picture in a gilt frame, representing a landscape, with fine old trees, flowers in the grass, and a broad stream, which flowed through the wood, past several castles, far out into the wild ocean.Ole-Luk-Oie touched the picture with his magic wand, and immediately the birds commenced singing, the branches of the trees rustled, and the clouds moved across the sky, casting their shadows on the landscape beneath them.Then Ole-Luk-Oie lifted little Hjalmar up to the frame, and placed his feet in the picture, just on the high grass, and there he stood with the sun shining down upon him through the branches of the trees.He ran to the water, and seated himself in a little boat which lay there, and which was painted red and white.The sails glittered like silver, and six swans, each with a golden circlet round its neck, and a bright blue star on its forehead, drew the boat past the green wood, where the trees talked of robbers and witches, and the flowers of beautiful little elves and fairies, whose histories the butterflies had related to them.Brilliant fish, with scales like silver and gold, swam after the boat, sometimes making a spring and splashing the water round them, while birds, red and blue, small and great, flew after him in two long lines.The gnats danced round them, and the cockchafers cried “Buz, buz.” They all wanted to follow Hjalmar, and all had some story to tell him.It was a most pleasant sail.Sometimes the forests were thick and dark, sometimes like a beautiful garden, gay with sunshine and flowers; then he passed great palaces of glass and of marble, and on the balconies stood princesses, whose faces were those of little girls whom Hjalmar knew well, and had often played with.One of them held out her hand, in which was a heart made of sugar, more beautiful than any confectioner ever sold.As Hjalmar sailed by, he caught hold of one side of the sugar heart, and held it fast, and the princess held fast also, so that it broke in two pieces.Hjalmar had one piece, and the princess the other, but Hjalmar’s was the largest.At each castle stood little princes acting as sentinels.They presented arms, and had golden swords, and made it rain plums and tin soldiers, so that they must have been real princes.
Hjalmar continued to sail, sometimes through woods, sometimes as it were through large halls, and then by large cities.At last he came to the town where his nurse lived, who had carried him in her arms when he was a very little boy, and had always been kind to him.She nodded and beckoned to him, and then sang the little verses she had herself composed and set to him,—
“How oft my memory turns to thee,
My own Hjalmar, ever dear!
When I could watch thy infant glee,
Or kiss away a pearly tear.
’Twas in my arms thy lisping tongue
First spoke the half-remembered word,
While o’er thy tottering steps I hung,
My fond protection to afford.
Farewell! I pray the Heavenly Power
To keep thee till thy dying hour.”
And all the birds sang the same tune, the flowers danced on their stems, and the old trees nodded as if Ole-Luk-Oie had been telling them stories as well.
Wednesday
HOW the rain did pour down! Hjalmar could hear it in his sleep;.and when Ole-Luk-Oie opened the window, the water flowed quite up to the window-sill.It had the appearance of a large lake outside, and a beautiful ship lay close to the house.
“Wilt thou sail with me to-night, little Hjalmar?” said Ole-Luk-Oie; “then we shall see foreign countries, and thou shalt return here in the morning.”
All in a moment, there stood Hjalmar, in his best clothes, on the deck of the noble ship; and immediately the weather became fine.They sailed through the streets, round by the church, and on every side rolled the wide, great sea.They sailed till the land disappeared, and then they saw a flock of storks, who had left their own country, and were travelling to warmer climates.The storks flew one behind the other, and had already been a long, long time on the wing.One of them seemed so tired that his wings could scarcely carry him.He was the last of the row, and was soon left very far behind.At length he sunk lower and lower, with outstretched wings, flapping them in vain, till his feet touched the rigging of the ship, and he slided from the sails to the deck, and stood before them.Then a sailor-boy caught him, and put him in the hen-house, with the fowls, the ducks, and the turkeys, while the poor stork stood quite bewildered amongst them.
“Just look at that fellow,” said the chickens.
Then the turkey-cock puffed himself out as large as he could, and inquired who he was; and the ducks waddled backwards, crying, “Quack, quack.”
Then the stork told them all about warm Africa, of the pyramids, and of the ostrich, which, like a wild horse, runs across the desert.But the ducks did not understand what he said, and quacked amongst themselves, “We are all of the same opinion; namely, that he is stupid.”
“Yes, to be sure, he is stupid,” said the turkey-cock; and gobbled.
Then the stork remained quite silent, and thought of his home in Africa.
“Those are handsome thin legs of yours,” said the turkey-cock.“What do they cost a yard?”
“Quack, quack, quack,” grinned the ducks; but, the stork pretended not to hear.
“You may as well laugh,” said the turkey; “for that remark was rather witty, or perhaps it was above you.Ah, ah, is he not clever? He will be a great amusement to us while he remains here.” And then he gobbled, and the ducks quacked, “Gobble, gobble; Quack, quack.”
What a terrible uproar they made, while they were having such fun among themselves!
Then Hjalmar went to the hen-house; and, opening the door, called to the stork.Then he hopped out on the deck.He had rested himself now, and he looked happy, and seemed as if he nodded to Hjalmar, as if to thank him.Then he spread his wings, and flew away to warmer countries, while the hens clucked, the ducks quacked, and the turkey-cock turned quite scarlet in the head.
“To-morrow you shall be made into soup,” said Hjalmar to the fowls; and then he awoke, and found himself lying in his little bed.
It was a wonderful journey which Ole-Luk-Oie had made him take this night.
Thursday
WHAT do you think I have got here?” said Ole-Luk-Oie, “Do not be frightened, and you shall see a little mouse.” And then he held out his hand to him, in which lay a lovely little creature.“It has come to invite you to a wedding.Two little mice are going to enter into the marriage state tonight.They reside under the floor of your mother’s store-room, and that must be a fine dwelling-place.”
“But how can I get through the little mouse-hole in the floor?” asked Hjalmar.
“Leave me to manage that,” said Ole-Luk-Oie.“I will soon make you small enough.” And then he touched Hjalmar with his magic wand, whereupon he became less and less, until at last he was not longer than a little finger.“Now you can borrow the dress of the tin soldier.I think it will just fit you.It looks well to wear a uniform when you go into company.”
“Yes, certainly,” said Hjalmar; and in a moment he was dressed as neatly as the neatest of all tin soldiers.
“Will you be so good as to seat yourself in your mamma’s thimble,” said the little mouse, “that I may have the pleasure of drawing you to the wedding.”
“Will you really take so much trouble, young lady?” said Hjalmar.And so in this way he rode to the mouse’s wedding.
First they went under the floor, and then passed through a long passage, which was scarcely high enough to allow the thimble to drive under, and the whole passage was lit up with the phosphorescent light of rotten wood.
“Does it not smell delicious?” asked the mouse, as she drew him along.“The wall and the floor have been smeared with bacon-rind; nothing can be nicer.”
Very soon they arrived at the bridal hall.On the right stood all the little lady-mice, whispering and giggling, as if they were making game of each other.To the left were the gentlemen-mice, stroking their whiskers with their fore-paws; and in the centre of the hall could be seen the bridal pair, standing side by side, in a hollow cheese-rind, and kissing each other, while all eyes were upon them; for they had already been betrothed, and were soon to be married.More and more friends kept arriving, till the mice were nearly treading each other to death; for the bridal pair now stood in the doorway, and none could pass in or out.
The room had been rubbed over with bacon-rind, like the passage, which was all the refreshment offered to the guests.But for dessert they produced a pea, on which a mouse belonging to the bridal pair had bitten the first letters of their names.This was something quite uncommon.All the mice said it was a very beautiful wedding, and that they had been very agreeably entertained.
After this, Hjalmar returned home.He had certainly been in grand society; but he had been obliged to creep under a room, and to make himself small enough to wear the uniform of a tin soldier.
Friday
IT is incredible how many old people there are who would be glad to have me at night,” said Ole-Luk-Oie, “especially those who have done something wrong.‘Good little Ole,’ say they to me, ‘we cannot close our eyes, and we lie awake the whole night and see all our evil deeds sitting on our beds like little imps, and sprinkling us with hot water.Will you come and drive them away, that we may have a good night’s rest?’ and then they sigh so deeply and say, ‘We would gladly pay you for it.Good-night, Ole-Luk, the money lies on the window.’ But I never do anything for gold.” “What shall we do to-night?” asked Hjalmar.“I do not know whether you would care to go to another wedding,” he replied, “although it is quite a different affair to the one we saw last night.Your sister’s large doll, that is dressed like a man, and is called Herman, intends to marry the doll Bertha.It is also the dolls’ birthday, and they will receive many presents.”
“Yes, I know that already,” said Hjalmar, “my sister always allows her dolls to keep their birthdays or to have a wedding when they require new clothes; that has happened already a hundred times, I am quite sure.”
“Yes, so it may; but to-night is the hundred and first wedding, and when that has taken place it must be the last, therefore this is to be extremely beautiful.Only look.”
Hjalmar looked at the table, and there stood the little card-board doll’s house, with lights in all the windows, and drawn up before it were the tin soldiers presenting arms.The bridal pair were seated on the floor, leaning against the leg of the table, looking very thoughtful, and with good reason.Then Ole-Luk-Oie dressed up in grandmother’s black gown married them.
As soon as the ceremony was concluded, all the furniture in the room joined in singing a beautiful song, which had been composed by the lead pencil, and which went to the melody of a military tattoo.
“What merry sounds are on the wind,
As marriage rites together bind
A quiet and a loving pair,
Though formed of kid, yet smooth and fair!
Hurrah! If they are deaf and blind,
We’ll sing, though weather prove unkind.”
And now came the present; but the bridal pair had nothing to eat, for love was to be their food.
“Shall we go to a country house, or travel?” asked the bridegroom.
Then they consulted the swallow who had travelled so far, and the old hen in the yard, who had brought up five broods of chickens.
And the swallow talked to them of warm countries, where the grapes hang in large clusters on the vines, and the air is soft and mild, and about the mountains glowing with colors more beautiful than we can think of.
“But they have no red cabbage like we have,” said the hen, “I was once in the country with my chickens for a whole summer, there was a large sand-pit, in which we could walk about and scratch as we liked.Then we got into a garden in which grew red cabbage; oh, how nice it was, I cannot think of anything more delicious.”
“But one cabbage stalk is exactly like another,” said the swallow; “and here we have often bad weather.”
“Yes, but we are accustomed to it,” said the hen.
“But it is so cold here, and freezes sometimes.”
“Cold weather is good for cabbages,” said the hen; “besides we do have it warm here sometimes.Four years ago, we had a summer that lasted more than five weeks, and it was so hot one could scarcely breathe.And then in this country we have no poisonous animals, and we are free from robbers.He must be wicked who does not consider our country the finest of all lands.He ought not to be allowed to live here.” And then the hen wept very much and said, “I have also travelled.I once went twelve miles in a coop, and it was not pleasant travelling at all.”
“The hen is a sensible woman,” said the doll Bertha.“I don’t care for travelling over mountains, just to go up and come down again.No, let us go to the sand-pit in front of the gate, and then take a walk in the cabbage garden.”
And so they settled it.
Saturday
AM I to hear any more stories?” asked little Hjalmar, as soon as Ole-Luk-Oie had sent him to sleep.
“We shall have no time this evening,” said he, spreading out his prettiest umbrella over the child.“Look at these Chinese,” and then the whole umbrella appeared like a large china bowl, with blue trees and pointed bridges, upon which stood little Chinamen nodding their heads.“We must make all the world beautiful for to-morrow morning,” said Ole-Luk-Oie, “for it will be a holiday, it is Sunday.I must now go to the church steeple and see if the little sprites who live there have polished the bells, so that they may sound sweetly.Then I must go into the fields and see if the wind has blown the dust from the grass and the leaves, and the most difficult task of all which I have to do, is to take down all the stars and brighten them up.I have to number them first before I put them in my apron, and also to number the places from which I take them, so that they may go back into the right holes, or else they would not remain, and we should have a number of falling stars, for they would all tumble down one after the other.”
“Hark ye! Mr.Luk-Oie,” said an old portrait which hung on the wall of Hjalmar’s bedroom.“Do you know me? I am Hjalmar’s great-grandfather.I thank you for telling the boy stories, but you must not confuse his ideas.The stars cannot be taken down from the sky and polished; they are spheres like our earth, which is a good thing for them.”
“Thank you, old great-grandfather,” said Ole-Luk-Oie.“I thank you; you may be the head of the family, as no doubt you are, but I am older than you.I am an ancient heathen.The old Romans and Greeks named me the Dream-god.I have visited the noblest houses, and continue to do so; still I know how to conduct myself both to high and low, and now you may tell the stories yourself:” and so Ole-Luk-Oie walked off, taking his umbrellas with him.
“Well, well, one is never to give an opinion, I suppose,” grumbled the portrait.And it woke Hjalmar.
Sunday
GOOD evening,” said Ole-Luk-Oie.
Hjalmar nodded, and then sprang out of bed, and turned his great-grandfather’s portrait to the wall, so that it might not interrupt them as it had done yesterday.“Now,” said he, “you must tell me some stories about five green peas that lived in one pod; or of the chickseed that courted the chickweed; or of the darning needle, who acted so proudly because she fancied herself an embroidery needle.”
“You may have too much of a good thing,” said Ole-Luk-Oie.“You know that I like best to show you something, so I will show you my brother.He is also called Ole-Luk-Oie but he never visits any one but once, and when he does come, he takes him away on his horse, and tells him stories as they ride along.He knows only two stories.One of these is so wonderfully beautiful, that no one in the world can imagine anything at all like it; but the other is just as ugly and frightful, so that it would be impossible to describe it.” Then Ole-Luk-Oie lifted Hjalmar up to the window.“There now, you can see my brother, the other Ole-Luk-Oie; he is also called Death.You perceive he is not so bad as they represent him in picture books; there he is a skeleton, but now his coat is embroidered with silver, and he wears the splendid uniform of a hussar, and a mantle of black velvet flies behind him, over the horse.Look, how he gallops along.” Hjalmar saw that as this Ole-Luk-Oie rode on, he lifted up old and young, and carried them away on his horse.Some he seated in front of him, and some behind, but always inquired first, “How stands the mark-book?”
“Good,” they all answered.
“Yes, but let me see for myself,” he replied; and they were obliged to give him the books.Then all those who had “Very good,” or “Exceedingly good,” came in front of the horse, and heard the beautiful story; while those who had “Middling,” or “Tolerably good,” in their books, were obliged to sit behind, and listen to the frightful tale.They trembled and cried, and wanted to jump down from the horse, but they could not get free, for they seemed fastened to the seat.
“Why, Death is a most splendid Luk-Oie,” said Hjalmar.“I am not in the least afraid of him.”
“You need have no fear of him,” said Ole-Luk-Oie, “if you take care and keep a good conduct book.”
“Now I call that very instructive,” murmured the great-grandfather’s portrait.“It is useful sometimes to express an opinion;” so he was quite satisfied.
These are some of the doings and sayings of Ole-Luk-Oie.I hope he may visit you himself this evening, and relate some more.
赏析:
1.想象力的赞歌:安徒生通过奥列·路却埃这一角色,展现了无边的想象力和创造力。梦神每晚为哈尔马编织不同的梦境,带他游历奇异世界、参加耗子的婚礼、见识玩偶的王国等,这些场景极大地激发了读者(尤其是儿童)的想象空间,鼓励他们探索未知和创造自己的梦想世界。
2.教育意义:故事中蕴含了教育孩子的智慧。奥列·路却埃的梦境不仅仅是娱乐,还隐含着道德教育和生活哲理。例如,通过梦境让哈尔马学会区分真实与虚幻,理解勇敢、善良、诚实等美德的重要性,以及对生活的积极态度和对知识的好奇心。
3.情感的抚慰:梦神的角色象征着安慰与保护,给夜晚带来温暖和安全感。在奥列·路却埃的陪伴下,哈尔马的梦境虽充满冒险,但总是安全温馨的,体现了父母或照顾者对孩子温柔的关怀和引导。
4.文学艺术性:安徒生运用诗意的语言和丰富的比喻,使得《梦神》成为一篇文学艺术品。故事中细腻的情感描绘、生动的形象刻画,以及对梦境与现实交织的巧妙处理,展示了安徒生作为大师级童话作家的艺术才华。
5.文化与心理学的映射:奥列·路却埃作为梦的化身,反映了人类对梦境的普遍好奇和探索。在心理学层面,故事触及了梦境与意识、潜意识的关系,以及它们如何影响个人的成长和心理发展,与弗洛伊德等心理学家关于梦境的理论相呼应。
6.永恒的主题:尽管故事创作于一个多世纪前,但它探讨的主题——成长、梦想、教育、爱与失去等,都是跨越时代、普遍共鸣的。《梦神》因此不仅是一部儿童文学作品,也是成人反思自我与世界关系的镜子。
综上所述,《梦神Ole-Luk-Oie, the Dream-God》不仅是安徒生童话中一个引人入胜的故事,更是一篇富有深意、值得反复品味的文学佳作,其艺术魅力和教育价值随着时间的流逝而愈发彰显。
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