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Умопомрачительная смесь разных жанров, очень увлекательно
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Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen
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"It is Winter, the old man of the former year; he is not dead, as the calendar says, but he is guardian to the spring, which is coming."
"When will Spring come?" asked the sparrows, "for we shall have better times then, and a better rule. The old times are worth nothing."
And in quiet thought old Winter looked at the leafless forest, where the graceful form and bends of each tree and branch could be seen; and while Winter slept, icy mists came from the clouds, and the ruler dreamt of his youthful days and of his manhood, and in the morning dawn the whole forest glittered with hoar frost, which the sun shook from the branches, – and this was the summer dream of Winter.
"When will Spring come?" asked the sparrows. "Spring!" Again the echo sounded from the hills on which the snow lay. The sunshine became warmer, the snow melted, and the birds twittered, "Spring is coming!" And high in the air flew the first stork, and the second followed; a lovely child sat on the back of each, and they sank down on the open field, kissed the earth, and kissed the quiet old man; and, as the mist from the mountain top, he vanished away and disappeared. And the story of the year was finished.
"This is all very fine, no doubt," said the sparrows, "and it is very beautiful; but it is not according to the calendar, therefore, it must be all wrong."
notes
1
"I want a voice," or, "I have no voice."
2
The Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen.
"When will Spring come?" asked the sparrows, "for we shall have better times then, and a better rule. The old times are worth nothing."
And in quiet thought old Winter looked at the leafless forest, where the graceful form and bends of each tree and branch could be seen; and while Winter slept, icy mists came from the clouds, and the ruler dreamt of his youthful days and of his manhood, and in the morning dawn the whole forest glittered with hoar frost, which the sun shook from the branches, – and this was the summer dream of Winter.
"When will Spring come?" asked the sparrows. "Spring!" Again the echo sounded from the hills on which the snow lay. The sunshine became warmer, the snow melted, and the birds twittered, "Spring is coming!" And high in the air flew the first stork, and the second followed; a lovely child sat on the back of each, and they sank down on the open field, kissed the earth, and kissed the quiet old man; and, as the mist from the mountain top, he vanished away and disappeared. And the story of the year was finished.
"This is all very fine, no doubt," said the sparrows, "and it is very beautiful; but it is not according to the calendar, therefore, it must be all wrong."
notes
1
"I want a voice," or, "I have no voice."
2
The Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen.
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Последний отзыв
Умопомрачительная смесь разных жанров, очень увлекательно