English fairy tale script

Hans christian andersen's Roses on Homer's Tomb

( 1842)

All the songs in the East tell the nightingale's love for roses in the silent starry night. The singer with wings serenaded the fragrant flowers.

Not far from Smyrna, merchants were driving full camels, proudly hunching their long necks and marching under tall pine trees on sacred land. I saw the hedge of roses. Turtledoves fly among tall branches, and when the sun falls on their wings, they shine like pearls. A flower grows on the rose bush, more beautiful than all the flowers, and the nightingale sings his sorrow for her; But the rose remained silent, and no dew even fell on her leaves like tears of sympathy. Finally, she bowed her head in front of a pile of stones and said, "Here lies the greatest singer in the world; I will sprinkle my fragrance on his grave, and when the storm blows away the leaves, I will let them fall on it. The people who sang Troy became the earth, from which I was born. I, a rose on Homer's tomb, am too noble to bloom for the nightingale. " Then the nightingale sings to death. A camel driver passed by with his full load of camels and his slaves; His youngest son found the dead bird and buried the lovely singer in the grave of the great Homer, while the rose trembled in the wind.

As night falls, the rose wraps the leaves tighter and dreams: this is her dream.

It's a sunny day; A group of strangers on a pilgrimage to Homer's tomb approached. Among the strangers is a bard from the north, which is the hometown of clouds and northern lights. He picked the rose, put it in a book and took it to a distant place in the world, his motherland. The rose withered with sadness and lay between the pages. He opened the book in his home and said, "This is a rose on Homer's tomb."

Then the flowers woke up from their dreams and trembled in the wind. A drop of dew dripped from the leaves on the singer's grave. The sun has risen and the flowers are blooming more beautifully than before. It is very hot, and she is still in her warm Asia. At this time, the footsteps are getting closer and closer, and strangers, just like rose saw in her dream, came over, including a poet from the north; He picked the rose, kissed her on the fresh lips, and took her to the home of Yunyun and Northern Lights. Like a mummy, this flower is now lying in his Iliad, just like in a dream. She heard him open the book and say, "This is a rose on Homer's tomb."

I. Reference Translation (Reference Translation)

A rose on Homer's tomb

(Note: Homer was a great Greek poet in 1000 BC. His two famous epics, Iliad and Odyssey, describe the story of Greek expedition to Troy. The city is located in the northwest of Asia Minor. )

All the songs in the East sing the nightingale's love for roses. In the silent night when the stars are shining, the winged singer sang a love song for his fragrant flowers. Smyrna is a seaport in western Turkey. ) Not far away, under a tall buttonwood, businessmen are driving a group of camels carrying things. This group of cattle proudly hobbled along this sacred land with their long necks held high. I saw a circle of rose trees in full bloom. Wild pigeons are flying among the tall branches. When the sun shines on them, their wings shine like pearls. There is a flower on the rose tree fence, which is the most beautiful of all. The nightingale sang his sorrow for its love. But this rose didn't say a word, and there wasn't even a drop of dew on its leaves as a tear of sympathy. It just hangs branches towards some big stones. "One of the greatest singers in the world is buried here!" Rose said. "I am fragrant on his grave; When the storm came, my petals fell on it, and the singer of Iliad became the dust of this land, from which I sprouted and grew! I am a rose growing in Homer's grave. I am too sacred to bloom for an ordinary nightingale. "

So the nightingale sang until she died.

Camel drivers bring animals and slaves to carry things. His youngest son saw the dead bird. He buried the little singer in the grave of the great Homer. Roses tremble in the wind. Dusk is coming. The rose tightly gathered its petals and had a dream. It dreamed of a beautiful sunny day. A group of foreigners-Franks-came to visit Homer's grave. There is a singer among these foreigners; He comes from the north, the hometown of Yunkuai and Northern Lights (note: Denmark, Norway, Sweden. )。 He picked this rose, put it in a book, and then took it to another part of the world-his distant motherland. The rose withered in sorrow and lay quietly in this little book. He opened the book at home and said, "This is a rose on Homer's tomb." This is a dream of this flower. She woke up, trembling in the wind. So a dewdrop fell from her petals to the singer's grave. The sun is rising, the weather is getting warmer, and the roses are blooming more beautifully than before. She grew up in warm Asia. At this moment, footsteps sounded. The Franks that Ross saw in his dream came; Among these foreigners, there is a poet from the north: he picked this rose, kissed it on the fresh lips, and then took it to the hometown of clouds and northern lights. The flower's body is like a mummy, and now it lies in his Iliad. It seems like a dream. It heard him open the book and say, "This is a rose on Homer's grave."