EAR the shores of the great Belt, which is one of the straits that connect the Cattegat with the Baltic, stands an old

　　mansion1 with thick red walls. I know every stone of it,” says the Wind. “I saw it when it was part of the castle of Marck

　　Stig on the promontory2. But the castle was obliged to be pulled down, and the stone was used again for the walls of a new

　　mansion on another spot—the baronial residence of Borreby, which still stands near the coast. I knew them well, those noble

　　lords and ladies, the successive generations that dwelt there; and now I’m going to tell you of Waldemar Daa and his

　　daughters. How proud was his bearing, for he was of royal blood, and could boast of more noble deeds than merely hunting the

　　stag and emptying the wine-cup. His rule was despotic: ‘It shall be,’ he was accustomed to say. His wife, in garments

　　embroidered3 with gold, stepped proudly over the polished marble floors. The tapestries4 were gorgeous, and the furniture of

　　costly5 and artistic6 taste. She had brought gold and plate with her into the house. The cellars were full of wine. Black,

　　fiery7 horses, neighed in the stables. There was a look of wealth about the house of Borreby at that time. They had three

　　children, daughters, fair and delicate maidens8—Ida, Joanna, and Anna Dorothea; I have never forgotten their names. They were

　　a rich, noble family, born in affluence9 and nurtured10 in luxury.

　　“Whir-r-r, whir-r-r!” roared the Wind, and went on, “I did not see in this house, as in other great houses, the high-

　　born lady sitting among her women, turning the spinning-wheel. She could sweep the sounding chords of the guitar, and sing to

　　the music, not always Danish melodies, but the songs of a strange land. It was ‘Live and let live,’ here. Stranger guests

　　came from far and near, music sounded, goblets11 clashed, and I,” said the Wind, “was not able to drown the noise.

　　Ostentation12, pride, splendor13, and display ruled, but not the fear of the Lord.

　　”It was on the evening of the first day of May,” the Wind continued, “I came from the west, and had seen the ships

　　overpowered with the waves, when all on board persisted or were cast shipwrecked on the coast of Jutland. I had hurried

　　across the heath and over Jutland’s wood-girt eastern coast, and over the island of Funen, and then I drove across the great

　　belt, sighing and moaning. At length I lay down to rest on the shores of Zeeland, near to the great house of Borreby, where

　　the splendid forest of oaks still flourished. The young men of the neighborhood were collecting branches and brushwood under

　　the oak-trees. The largest and dryest they could find they carried into the village, and piled them up in a heap and set them

　　on fire. Then the men and maidens danced, and sung in a circle round the blazing pile. I lay quite quiet,” said the Wind, “

　　but I silently touched a branch which had been brought by one of the handsomest of the young men, and the wood blazed up

　　brightly, blazed brighter than all the rest. Then he was chosen as the chief, and received the name of the Shepherd; and

　　might choose his lamb from among the maidens. There was greater mirth and rejoicing than I had ever heard in the halls of the

　　rich baronial house. Then the noble lady drove by towards the baron’s mansion with her three daughters, in a gilded14 carriage

　　drawn15 by six horses. The daughters were young and beautiful—three charming blossoms—a rose, a lily, and a white hyacinth.

　　The mother was a proud tulip, and never acknowledged the salutations of any of the men or maidens who paused in their sport

　　to do her honor. The gracious lady seemed like a flower that was rather stiff in the stalk. Rose, lily, and hyacinth—yes, I

　　saw them all three. Whose little lambs will they one day become? thought I; their shepherd will be a gallant16 knight17, perhaps

　　a prince. The carriage rolled on, and the peasants resumed their dancing. They drove about the summer through all the

　　villages near. But one night, when I rose again, the high-born lady lay down to rise again no more; that thing came to her

　　which comes to us all, in which there is nothing new. Waldemar Daa remained for a time silent and thoughtful. ‘The loftiest

　　tree may be bowed without being broken,’ said a voice within him. His daughters wept; all the people in the mansion wiped

　　their eyes, but Lady Daa had driven away, and I drove away too,” said the Wind. “Whir-r-r, whir-r-r-!

　　“I returned again; I often returned and passed over the island of Funen and the shores of the Belt. Then I rested by

　　Borreby, near the glorious wood, where the heron made his nest, the haunt of the wood-pigeons, the blue-birds, and the black

　　stork18. It was yet spring, some were sitting on their eggs, others had already hatched their young broods; but how they

　　fluttered about and cried out when the axe19 sounded through the forest, blow upon blow! The trees of the forest were doomed20.

　　Waldemar Daa wanted to build a noble ship, a man-of-war, a three-decker, which the king would be sure to buy; and these, the

　　trees of the wood, the landmark21 of the seamen22, the refuge of the birds, must be felled. The hawk23 started up and flew away,

　　for its nest was destroyed; the heron and all the birds of the forest became homeless, and flew about in fear and anger. I

　　could well understand how they felt. Crows and ravens24 croaked25, as if in scorn, while the trees were cracking and falling

　　around them. Far in the interior of the wood, where a noisy swarm26 of laborers28 were working, stood Waldemar Daa and his three

　　daughters, and all were laughing at the wild cries of the birds, excepting one, the youngest, Anna Dorothea, who felt grieved

　　to the heart; and when they made preparations to fell a tree that was almost dead, and on whose naked branches the black

　　stork had built her nest, she saw the poor little things stretching out their necks, and she begged for mercy for them, with

　　the tears in her eyes. So the tree with the black stork’s nest was left standing29; the tree itself, however, was not worth

　　much to speak of. Then there was a great deal of hewing30 and sawing, and at last the three-decker was built. The builder was a

　　man of low origin, but possessing great pride; his eyes and forehead spoke31 of large intellect, and Waldemar Daa was fond of

　　listening to him, and so was Waldemar’s daughter Ida, the eldest32, now about fifteen years old; and while he was building the

　　ship for the father, he was building for himself a castle in the air, in which he and Ida were to live when they were

　　married. This might have happened, indeed, if there had been a real castle, with stone walls, ramparts, and a moat. But in

　　spite of his clever head, the builder was still but a poor, inferior bird; and how can a sparrow expect to be admitted into

　　the society of peacocks?

　　“I passed on in my course,” said the Wind, “and he passed away also. He was not allowed to remain, and little Ida got

　　over it, because she was obliged to do so. Proud, black horses, worth looking at, were neighing in the stable. And they were

　　locked up; for the admiral, who had been sent by the king to inspect the new ship, and make arrangements for its purchase,

　　was loud in admiration33 of these beautiful horses. I heard it all,” said the Wind, “for I accompanied the gentlemen through

　　the open door of the stable, and strewed34 stalks of straw, like bars of gold, at their feet. Waldemar Daa wanted gold, and the

　　admiral wished for the proud black horses; therefore he praised them so much. But the hint was not taken, and consequently

　　the ship was not bought. It remained on the shore covered with boards,—a Noah’s ark that never got to the water—Whir-r-r-r

　　—and that was a pity.

　　“In the winter, when the fields were covered with snow, and the water filled with large blocks of ice which I had blown

　　up to the coast,” continued the Wind, “great flocks of crows and ravens, dark and black as they usually are, came and

　　alighted on the lonely, deserted35 ship. Then they croaked in harsh accents of the forest that now existed no more, of the many

　　pretty birds’ nests destroyed and the little ones left without a home; and all for the sake of that great bit of lumber36,

　　that proud ship, that never sailed forth37. I made the snowflakes whirl till the snow lay like a great lake round the ship, and

　　drifted over it. I let it hear my voice, that it might know what the storm has to say. Certainly I did my part towards

　　teaching it seamanship.

　　“That winter passed away, and another winter and summer both passed, as they are still passing away, even as I pass

　　away. The snow drifts onwards, the apple-blossoms are scattered38, the leaves fall,—everything passes away, and men are

　　passing away too. But the great man’s daughters are still young, and little Ida is a rose as fair to look upon as on the day

　　when the shipbuilder first saw her. I often tumbled her long, brown hair, while she stood in the garden by the apple-tree,

　　musing39, and not heeding40 how I strewed the blossoms on her hair, and dishevelled it; or sometimes, while she stood gazing at

　　the red sun and the golden sky through the opening branches of the dark, thick foliage41 of the garden trees. Her sister Joanna

　　was bright and slender as a lily; she had a tall and lofty carriage and figure, though, like her mother, rather stiff in

　　back. She was very fond of walking through the great hall, where hung the portraits of her ancestors. The women were

　　represented in dresses of velvet42 and silk, with tiny little hats, embroidered with pearls, on their braided hair. They were

　　all handsome women. The gentlemen appeared clad in steel, or in rich cloaks lined with squirrel’s fur; they wore little

　　ruffs, and swords at their sides. Where would Joanna’s place be on that wall some day? and how would he look,—her noble

　　lord and husband? This is what she thought of, and often spoke of in a low voice to herself. I heard it as I swept into the

　　long hall, and turned round to come out again. Anna Dorothea, the pale hyacinth, a child of fourteen, was quiet and

　　thoughtful; her large, deep, blue eyes had a dreamy look, but a childlike smile still played round her mouth. I was not able

　　to blow it away, neither did I wish to do so. We have met in the garden, in the hollow lane, in the field and meadow, where

　　she gathered herbs and flowers which she knew would be useful to her father in preparing the drugs and mixtures he was always

　　concocting43. Waldemar Daa was arrogant44 and proud, but he was also a learned man, and knew a great deal. It was no secret, and

　　many opinions were expressed on what he did. In his fireplace there was a fire, even in summer time. He would lock himself in

　　his room, and for days the fire would be kept burning; but he did not talk much of what he was doing. The secret powers of

　　nature are generally discovered in solitude45, and did he not soon expect to find out the art of making the greatest of all

　　good things—the art of making gold? So he fondly hoped; therefore the chimney smoked and the fire crackled so constantly.

　　Yes, I was there too,” said the Wind. “‘Leave it alone,’ I sang down the chimney; ‘leave it alone, it will all end in

　　smoke, air, coals, and ashes, and you will burn your fingers.’ But Waldemar Daa did not leave it alone, and all he possessed46

　　vanished like smoke blown by me. The splendid black horses, where are they? What became of the cows in the field, the old

　　gold and silver vessels47 in cupboards and chests, and even the house and home itself? It was easy to melt all these away in

　　the gold-making crucible48, and yet obtain no gold. And so it was. Empty are the barns and store-rooms, the cellars and

　　cupboards; the servants decreased in number, and the mice multiplied. First one window became broken, and then another, so

　　that I could get in at other places besides the door. ‘Where the chimney smokes, the meal is being cooked,’ says the

　　proverb; but here a chimney smoked that devoured49 all the meals for the sake of gold. I blew round the courtyard,” said the

　　Wind, “like a watchman blowing his home, but no watchman was there. I twirled the weather-cock round on the summit of the

　　tower, and it creaked like the snoring of a warder, but no warder was there; nothing but mice and rats. Poverty laid the

　　table-cloth; poverty sat in the wardrobe and in the larder50. The door fell off its hinges, cracks and fissures51 made their

　　appearance everywhere; so that I could go in and out at pleasure, and that is how I know all about it. Amid smoke and ashes,

　　sorrow, and sleepless52 nights, the hair and beard of the master of the house turned gray, and deep furrows53 showed themselves

　　around his temples; his skin turned pale and yellow, while his eyes still looked eagerly for gold, the longed-for gold, and

　　the result of his labor27 was debt instead of gain. I blew the smoke and ashes into his face and beard; I moaned through the

　　broken window-panes, and the yawning clefts54 in the walls; I blew into the chests and drawers belonging to his daughters,

　　wherein lay the clothes that had become faded and threadbare, from being worn over and over again. Such a song had not been

　　sung, at the children’s cradle as I sung now. The lordly life had changed to a life of penury55. I was the only one who

　　rejoiced aloud in that castle,” said the Wind. “At last I snowed them up, and they say snow keeps people warm. It was good

　　for them, for they had no wood, and the forest, from which they might have obtained it, had been cut down. The frost was very

　　bitter, and I rushed through loop-holes and passages, over gables and roofs with keen and cutting swiftness. The three high-

　　born daughters were lying in bed because of the cold, and their father crouching56 beneath his leather coverlet. Nothing to

　　eat, nothing to burn, no fire on the hearth57! Here was a life for high-born people! ‘Give it up, give it up!’ But my Lord

　　Daa would not do that.

　　‘After winter, spring will come,’ he said, ‘after want, good times. We must not lose patience, we must learn to

　　wait. Now my horses and lands are all mortgaged, it is indeed high time; but gold will come at last—at Easter.’ #p#

　　“I heard him as he thus spoke; he was looking at a spider’s web, and he continued, ‘Thou cunning little weaver58, thou

　　dost teach me perseverance59. Let any one tear thy web, and thou wilt60 begin again and repair it. Let it be entirely61 destroyed,

　　thou wilt resolutely62 begin to make another till it is completed. So ought we to do, if we wish to succeed at last.’

　　“It was the morning of Easter-day. The bells sounded from the neighboring church, and the sun seemed to rejoice in the

　　sky. The master of the castle had watched through the night, in feverish63 excitement, and had been melting and cooling,

　　distilling64 and mixing. I heard him sighing like a soul in despair; I heard him praying, and I noticed how he held his breath.

　　The lamp burnt out, but he did not observe it. I blew up the fire in the coals on the hearth, and it threw a red glow on his

　　ghastly white face, lighting65 it up with a glare, while his sunken eyes looked out wildly from their cavernous depths, and

　　appeared to grow larger and more prominent, as if they would burst from their sockets66. ‘Look at the alchymic glass,’ he

　　cried; ‘something glows in the crucible, pure and heavy.’ He lifted it with a trembling hand, and exclaimed in a voice of

　　agitation67, ‘Gold! gold!’ He was quite giddy, I could have blown him down,” said the Wind; “but I only fanned the glowing

　　coals, and accompanied him through the door to the room where his daughter sat shivering. His coat was powdered with ashes,

　　and there were ashes in his beard and in his tangled68 hair. He stood erect69, and held high in the air the brittle70 glass that

　　contained his costly treasure. ‘Found! found! Gold! gold!’ he shouted, again holding the glass aloft, that it might flash

　　in the sunshine; but his hand trembled, and the alchymic glass fell from it, clattering71 to the ground, and brake in a

　　thousand pieces. The last bubble of his happiness had burst, with a whiz and a whir, and I rushed away from the gold-maker’s

　　house.

　　“Late in the autumn, when the days were short, and the mist sprinkled cold drops on the berries and the leafless

　　branches, I came back in fresh spirits, rushed through the air, swept the sky clear, and snapped off the dry twigs72, which is

　　certainly no great labor to do, yet it must be done. There was another kind of sweeping73 taking place at Waldemar Daa’s, in

　　the castle of Borreby. His enemy, Owe Ramel, of Basnas, was there, with the mortgage of the house and everything it

　　contained, in his pocket. I rattled74 the broken windows, beat against the old rotten doors, and whistled through cracks and

　　crevices75, so that Mr. Owe Ramel did not much like to remain there. Ida and Anna Dorothea wept bitterly, Joanna stood, pale

　　and proud, biting her lips till the blood came; but what could that avail? Owe Ramel offered Waldemar Daa permission to

　　remain in the house till the end of his life. No one thanked him for the offer, and I saw the ruined old gentleman lift his

　　head, and throw it back more proudly than ever. Then I rushed against the house and the old lime-trees with such force, that

　　one of the thickest branches, a decayed one, was broken off, and the branch fell at the entrance, and remained there. It

　　might have been used as a broom, if any one had wanted to sweep the place out, and a grand sweeping-out there really was; I

　　thought it would be so. It was hard for any one to preserve composure on such a day; but these people had strong wills, as

　　unbending as their hard fortune. There was nothing they could call their own, excepting the clothes they wore. Yes, there was

　　one thing more, an alchymist’s glass, a new one, which had been lately bought, and filled with what could be gathered from

　　the ground of the treasure which had promised so much but failed in keeping its promise. Waldemar Daa hid the glass in his

　　bosom76, and, taking his stick in his hand, the once rich gentleman passed with his daughters out of the house of Borreby. I

　　blew coldly upon his flustered77 cheeks, I stroked his gray beard and his long white hair, and I sang as well as I was able, ‘

　　Whir-r-r, whir-r-r. Gone away! Gone away!’ Ida walked on one side of the old man, and Anna Dorothea on the other; Joanna

　　turned round, as they left the entrance. Why? Fortune would not turn because she turned. She looked at the stone in the walls

　　which had once formed part of the castle of Marck Stig, and perhaps she thought of his daughters and of the old song,

　　‘The eldest and youngest, hand-in-hand,Went forth alone to a distant land’.

　　These were only two; here there were three, and their father with them also. They walked along the high-road, where once

　　they had driven in their splendid carriage; they went forth with their father as beggars. They wandered across an open field

　　to a mud hut, which they rented for a dollar and a half a year, a new home, with bare walls and empty cupboards. Crows and

　　magpies78 fluttered about them, and cried, as if in contempt, ‘Caw, caw, turned out of our nest—caw, caw,’ as they had done

　　in the wood at Borreby, when the trees were felled. Daa and his daughters could not help hearing it, so I blew about their

　　ears to drown the noise; what use was it that they should listen? So they went to live in the mud hut in the open field, and

　　I wandered away, over moor79 and meadow, through bare bushes and leafless forests, to the open sea, to the broad shores in

　　other lands, ‘Whir-r-r, whir-r-r! Away, away!’ year after year.”

　　And what became of Waldemar Daa and his daughters? Listen; the Wind will tell us:

　　“The last I saw of them was the pale hyacinth, Anna Dorothea. She was old and bent80 then; for fifty years had passed and

　　she had outlived them all. She could relate the history. Yonder, on the heath, near the town of Wiborg, in Jutland, stood the

　　fine new house of the canon. It was built of red brick, with projecting gables. It was inhabited, for the smoke curled up

　　thickly from the chimneys. The canon’s gentle lady and her beautiful daughters sat in the bay-window, and looked over the

　　hawthorn81 hedge of the garden towards the brown heath. What were they looking at? Their glances fell upon a stork’s nest,

　　which was built upon an old tumbledown hut. The roof, as far as one existed at all, was covered with moss82 and lichen83. The

　　stork’s nest covered the greater part of it, and that alone was in a good condition; for it was kept in order by the stork

　　himself. That is a house to be looked at, and not to be touched,” said the Wind. “For the sake of the stork’s nest it had

　　been allowed to remain, although it is a blot84 on the landscape. They did not like to drive the stork away; therefore the old

　　shed was left standing, and the poor woman who dwelt in it allowed to stay. She had the Egyptian bird to thank for that; or

　　was it perchance her reward for having once interceded85 for the preservation86 of the nest of its black brother in the forest of

　　Borreby? At that time she, the poor woman, was a young child, a white hyacinth in a rich garden. She remembered that time

　　well; for it was Anna Dorothea.

　　“‘O-h, o-h,’ she sighed; for people can sigh like the moaning of the wind among the reeds and rushes. ‘O-h, o-h,’

　　she would say, ‘no bell sounded at thy burial, Waldemar Daa. The poor school-boys did not even sing a psalm87 when the former

　　lord of Borreby was laid in the earth to rest. O-h, everything has an end, even misery88. Sister Ida became the wife of a

　　peasant; that was the hardest trial which befell our father, that the husband of his own daughter should be a miserable89 serf,

　　whom his owner could place for punishment on the wooden horse. I suppose he is under the ground now; and Ida—alas90! alas! it

　　is not ended yet; miserable that I am! Kind Heaven, grant me that I may die.’

　　“That was Anna Dorothea’s prayer in the wretched hut that was left standing for the sake of the stork. I took pity on

　　the proudest of the sisters,” said the Wind. “Her courage was like that of a man; and in man’s clothes she served as a

　　sailor on board ship. She was of few words, and of a dark countenance91; but she did not know how to climb, so I blew her

　　overboard before any one found out that she was a woman; and, in my opinion, that was well done,” said the Wind.

　　On such another Easter morning as that on which Waldemar Daa imagined he had discovered the art of making gold, I heard

　　the tones of a psalm under the stork’s nest, and within the crumbling92 walls. It was Anna Dorothea’s last song. There was no

　　window in the hut, only a hole in the wall; and the sun rose like a globe of burnished93 gold, and looked through. With what

　　splendor he filled that dismal94 dwelling95! Her eyes were glazing96, and her heart breaking; but so it would have been, even had

　　the sun not shone that morning on Anna Dorothea. The stork’s nest had secured her a home till her death. I sung over her

　　grave; I sung at her father’s grave. I know where it lies, and where her grave is too, but nobody else knows it.

　　“New times now; all is changed. The old high-road is lost amid cultivated fields; the new one now winds along over

　　covered graves; and soon the railway will come, with its train of carriages, and rush over graves where lie those whose very

　　names are forgoten. All passed away, passed away!

　　“This is the story of Waldemar Daa and his daughters. Tell it better, any of you, if you know how,” said the Wind; and

　　he rushed away, and was gone.#p#

　　當(dāng)風(fēng)兒在草上吹過(guò)去的時(shí)候，田野就像一湖水，起了一起漣漪。當(dāng)它在麥子上掃過(guò)去的時(shí)候，田野就像一個(gè)海，起了一層浪花，這叫做風(fēng)

　　的跳舞。不過(guò)請(qǐng)聽(tīng)它講的故事吧：它是把故事唱出來(lái)的。故事在森林的樹(shù)頂上的聲音，同它通過(guò)墻上通風(fēng)孔和隙縫時(shí)所發(fā)出的聲音是不同的。

　　你看，風(fēng)是怎樣在天上把云塊像一群羊似地驅(qū)走！你聽(tīng)，風(fēng)是怎樣在敞開(kāi)的大門(mén)里呼嘯，簡(jiǎn)直像守門(mén)人在吹著號(hào)角！它從煙囪和壁爐口吹進(jìn)來(lái)

　　的聲音是多么奇妙?。』鸢l(fā)出爆裂聲，燃燒起來(lái)，把房間較遠(yuǎn)的角落都照明了。這里是那么溫暖和舒適，坐在這兒聽(tīng)這些聲音是多么愉快啊。

　　讓風(fēng)兒自己來(lái)講吧！因?yàn)樗涝S多故事和童話——比我們?nèi)魏稳酥赖亩级唷，F(xiàn)在請(qǐng)聽(tīng)吧，請(qǐng)聽(tīng)它怎樣講吧。

　　“呼——呼——噓！去吧！”這就是它的歌聲的疊句。

　　“在那條‘巨帶’（注：這是指丹麥瑟蘭島（Ｓｊａｅｌｌａｎｄ）和富恩島（?Eｙｎ）之間的一條海峽，有４０英里長(zhǎng)，１０英里寬。

　　）的岸邊，立著一幢古老的房子；它有很厚的紅墻，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“我認(rèn)識(shí)它的每一塊石頭；當(dāng)它還是屬于涅塞特的馬爾斯克·斯蒂格（注：馬

　　爾斯克·斯蒂格（ＭａｒｓｋＳｔｉｇ）謀殺了丹麥國(guó)王愛(ài)力克五世（ＥｉｒｋＶ，１２４９？—１２８６）。據(jù)丹麥民間傳說(shuō)，他采取這種

　　行動(dòng)是因?yàn)閲?guó)王誘奸了他的妻子。）堡寨的時(shí)候，我就看見(jiàn)過(guò)它。它不得不被拆掉了！石頭用在另一個(gè)地方，砌成新的墻，造成一幢新房子—

　　—這就是波列埠莊園：它現(xiàn)在還立在那兒。

　　“我認(rèn)識(shí)和見(jiàn)過(guò)那里高貴的老爺和太太們，以及住在那里的后裔?，F(xiàn)在我要講一講關(guān)于瓦爾得馬爾·杜和他的女兒們的故事。

　　“他驕傲得不可一世，因?yàn)樗谢首宓难y(tǒng)！他除了能獵取雄鹿和把滿瓶的酒一飲而盡以外，還能做許多別的事情。他常常對(duì)自己說(shuō)：‘

　　事情自然會(huì)有辦法。’

　　“他的太太穿著金線繡的衣服，高視闊步地在光亮的地板上走來(lái)走去。壁毯（注：這是歐洲人室內(nèi)的一種裝飾品，好像地毯，但不是鋪在

　　地上，而是掛在墻上。）是華麗的；家具是貴重的，而且還有精致的雕花。她帶來(lái)許多金銀器皿作為陪嫁。當(dāng)?shù)亟牙镆呀?jīng)藏滿了東西的時(shí)候，

　　里面還藏著德國(guó)啤酒。黑色的馬在馬廄里嘶鳴。那時(shí)這家人家很富有，波列埠的公館有一種豪華的氣象。

　　“那里住著孩子，有三個(gè)嬌美的姑娘：意德、約翰妮和安娜·杜洛苔。我現(xiàn)在還記得她們的名字。

　　“她們是有錢(qián)的人，有身份的人，在豪華中出生，在豪華中長(zhǎng)大。呼——噓！去吧！”風(fēng)兒唱著。接著它繼續(xù)講下去：“我在這兒看不見(jiàn)

　　別的古老家族中常有的情景：高貴的太太跟她的女仆們坐在大廳里一起搖著紡車。她吹著洪亮的笛子，同時(shí)唱著歌——不老是那些古老的丹麥

　　歌，而是一些異國(guó)的歌。這兒的生活是活躍的，招待是殷勤的；顯貴的客人從遠(yuǎn)近各處地方到來(lái)，音樂(lè)在演奏著，酒杯在碰著，我也沒(méi)有辦法

　　把這些聲音淹沒(méi)！風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“這兒只有夸張的傲慢神氣和老爺派頭；但是沒(méi)有上帝！

　　“那正是五月一日的晚上，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“我從西邊來(lái)，我見(jiàn)到船只撞著尤蘭西部的海岸而被毀。我匆忙地走過(guò)這生滿了石楠植物和長(zhǎng)滿了

　　綠樹(shù)林的海岸，走過(guò)富恩島。現(xiàn)在我在‘巨帶’上掃過(guò)，呻吟著，嘆息著。

　　“于是我在瑟蘭島的岸上，在波列埠的那座公館的附近躺下來(lái)休息。那兒有一個(gè)青蔥的櫟樹(shù)林，現(xiàn)在仍然還存在。

　　“附近的年輕人到櫟樹(shù)林下面來(lái)收撿樹(shù)枝和柴草，收拾他們所能找到的最粗和最干的木柴。他們把木柴拿到村里來(lái)，聚成堆，點(diǎn)起火。于

　　是男男女女就在周圍跳著舞，唱著歌。

　　“我躺著一聲不響，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“不過(guò)我靜靜地把一根枝子——一個(gè)最漂亮的年輕人撿回來(lái)的枝子——撥了一下，于是他的那堆柴就燒起

　　來(lái)，燒得比所有的柴堆都高。這樣他就算是入選了，獲得了‘街頭山羊”的光榮稱號(hào)，同時(shí)還可以在這些姑娘之中選擇他的‘街頭綿羊’。這

　　兒的快樂(lè)和高興，勝過(guò)波列埠那個(gè)豪富的公館。

　　“那位貴族婦人，帶著她的三個(gè)女兒，乘著一輛由六騎馬拉著的、鍍了金的車子，向這座公館馳來(lái)。她的女兒是年輕和美麗的——是三朵

　　迷人的花：玫瑰、百合和淡白的風(fēng)信子。母親本人則是一朵鮮嫩的郁金香。大家都停止了游戲，向她鞠躬和敬禮；但是她誰(shuí)也不理，人們可以

　　看出，這位貴婦人是一朵開(kāi)在相當(dāng)硬的梗子上的花。

　　“玫瑰、百合和淡白的風(fēng)信子；是的，她們?nèi)齻€(gè)人我全都看見(jiàn)了！我想，有一天她們將會(huì)是誰(shuí)的小綿羊呢？她們的‘街頭山羊’將會(huì)是一

　　位漂亮的騎士，可能是一位王子！呼——噓！去吧！去吧！

　　“是的，車子載著她們走了，農(nóng)人們繼續(xù)跳舞。在波列埠這地方，在卡列埠，在周圍所有的村子里，人們都在慶祝夏天的到來(lái)。

　　“可是在夜里，當(dāng)我再起身的時(shí)候，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“那位貴族婦人躺下了，再也沒(méi)有起來(lái)。她碰上這樣的事情，正如許多人碰上這類的事情

　　一樣——并沒(méi)有什么新奇。瓦爾得馬爾·杜靜靜地、沉思地站了一會(huì)兒。‘最驕傲的樹(shù)可以彎，但不一定就會(huì)折斷，’他在心里說(shuō)。女兒們哭

　　起來(lái)；公館里所有的人全都在揩眼淚。杜夫人去了——可是我也去了，呼——噓！”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。

　　“我又回來(lái)了。我常?；氐礁欢鲘u和‘巨帶’的沿岸來(lái)。我坐在波列埠的岸旁，坐在那美麗的櫟樹(shù)林附近：蒼鷺在這兒做窠，斑鳩，甚至

　　藍(lán)烏鴉和黑顴鳥(niǎo)也都到這兒來(lái)。這還是開(kāi)春不久：它們有的已經(jīng)生了蛋，有的已經(jīng)孵出了小雛。嗨，它們是在怎樣飛，怎樣叫啊！人們可以聽(tīng)

　　到斧頭的響聲：一下，兩下，三下。樹(shù)林被砍掉了。瓦爾得馬爾·杜想要建造一條華麗的船——一條有三層樓的戰(zhàn)艦。國(guó)王一定會(huì)買(mǎi)它。因此

　　他要砍掉這個(gè)作為水手的目標(biāo)和飛鳥(niǎo)的隱身處的樹(shù)林。蒼鷺驚恐地飛走了，因?yàn)樗鸟奖粴У袅恕Ｉn鷺和其他的林中鳥(niǎo)都變得無(wú)家可歸，慌亂

　　地飛來(lái)飛去，憤怒地、驚恐地號(hào)叫，我了解它們的心情。烏鴉和穴烏用譏笑的口吻大聲地號(hào)叫：

　　‘離開(kāi)窠兒吧！離開(kāi)窠兒吧！離開(kāi)吧！離開(kāi)吧！’

　　“在樹(shù)林里，在一群工人旁邊，站著瓦爾得馬爾·杜和他的女兒們。他們聽(tīng)到這些鳥(niǎo)兒的狂叫，不禁大笑起來(lái)。只有一個(gè)人——那個(gè)最年

　　輕的安娜·杜洛苔——心中感到難過(guò)。他們正要推倒一株砍掉的樹(shù)，在這株樹(shù)的枝椏上有一只黑顴鳥(niǎo)的窠，窠里的小顴鳥(niǎo)正在伸出頭來(lái)——她

　　替它們向大家求情，她含著眼淚向大家求情。這株有窠的樹(shù)算是為顴鳥(niǎo)留下了。這不過(guò)只是一件很小的事情。

　　“有的樹(shù)被砍掉了，有的樹(shù)被鋸掉了。接著一個(gè)有三層樓的船便建造起來(lái)了。建筑師是一個(gè)出身微賤的人，但是他有高貴的儀表。他的眼

　　睛和前額說(shuō)明他是多么聰明。瓦爾得馬爾·杜喜歡聽(tīng)他談話；他最大的女兒意德——她現(xiàn)在有１５歲了——也是這樣。當(dāng)他正在為父親建造船

　　的時(shí)候，他也在為自己建造一個(gè)空中樓閣：他和意德將作為一對(duì)夫婦住在里面。如果這樓閣是由石墻所砌成、有壁壘和城壕、有樹(shù)林和花園的

　　話，這個(gè)幻想也許可能成為事實(shí)。不過(guò)，這位建筑師雖然有一個(gè)聰明的頭腦，但卻是一個(gè)窮鬼。的確，一只麻雀怎么能在鶴群中跳舞呢？呼—

　　—噓！我飛走了，他也飛走了，因?yàn)樗荒茏≡谶@兒。小小的意德也只好克服她的難過(guò)的心情。因?yàn)樗强酥撇豢伞?rdquo;

　　“那些黑馬在馬廄里嘶鳴；它們值得一看，而且也有人在看它們。國(guó)王親自派海軍大將來(lái)檢驗(yàn)這條新船，來(lái)布置購(gòu)買(mǎi)它。海軍大將也大為

　　稱贊這些雄赳赳的馬兒。我聽(tīng)到這一切，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“我陪著這些人走進(jìn)敞開(kāi)的門(mén)；我在他們腳前撒下一些草葉，像一條一條的黃金。瓦爾得

　　馬爾·杜想要有金子，海軍大將想要有那些黑馬——因此他才那樣稱贊它們，不過(guò)他的意思沒(méi)有被聽(tīng)懂，結(jié)果船也沒(méi)有買(mǎi)成。它躺在岸邊，亮

　　得放光，周圍全是木板；它是一個(gè)挪亞式的方舟，但永遠(yuǎn)不曾下過(guò)水。呼——噓！去吧！去吧！這真可惜。

　　“在冬天，田野上蓋滿了雪，‘巨帶’里結(jié)滿了冰，我把冰塊吹到岸上來(lái)，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“烏鴉和大渡烏都來(lái)了，它們是一大群，一個(gè)比一

　　個(gè)黑。它們落到岸邊沒(méi)有生命的、被遺*?了的、孤獨(dú)的船上。它們用一種喑啞的調(diào)子，為那已經(jīng)不再有的樹(shù)林，為那被遺*?了的貴重的雀窠，

　　為那些沒(méi)有家的老老少少的雀子而哀鳴。這完全是因?yàn)槟且淮蠖涯绢^——那一條從來(lái)沒(méi)有出過(guò)海的船的緣故。

　　“我把雪花攪得亂飛，雪花像巨浪似地圍在船的四周，壓在船的上面！我讓它聽(tīng)到我的聲音，使它知道，風(fēng)暴有些什么話要說(shuō)。我知道，

　　我在盡我的力量教它關(guān)于航行的技術(shù)。呼——噓！去吧！

　　“冬天逝去了；冬天和夏天都逝去了。它們?cè)谑湃ィ裎乙粯?，像雪花的飛舞，像玫瑰花的飛舞，像樹(shù)葉的下落——逝去了！逝去了！人

　　也逝去了！

　　“不過(guò)那幾個(gè)女兒仍然很年輕，小小的意德是一朵玫瑰花，美麗得像那位建筑師初見(jiàn)到她的時(shí)候一樣。她常常若有所思她站在花園的玫瑰

　　樹(shù)旁，沒(méi)有注意到我在她松散的頭發(fā)上撒下花朵；這時(shí)我就撫著她的棕色長(zhǎng)頭發(fā)。于是她就凝視那鮮紅的太陽(yáng)和那在花園的樹(shù)林和陰森的灌木

　　叢之間露出來(lái)的金色的天空。

　　“她的妹妹約翰妮像一朵百合花，亭亭玉立，高視闊步，和她的母親一樣，只是梗子脆了一點(diǎn)。她喜歡走過(guò)掛有祖先的畫(huà)像的大廳。在畫(huà)

　　中那些仕女們都穿著絲綢和天鵝絨的衣服；她們的發(fā)髻上都戴著綴有珍珠的小帽。她們都是一群美麗的仕女，她們的丈夫不是穿著鎧甲，就是

　　穿看用松鼠*?做里子和有皺領(lǐng)（注：這是歐洲１６世紀(jì)流行的一種領(lǐng)子。一般都是白色，有很整齊的褶皺，緊緊地圍在脖子上。）的大氅。他

　　們腰間掛著長(zhǎng)劍，但是并沒(méi)有扣在股上。約翰妮的畫(huà)像哪一天會(huì)在墻上掛起來(lái)呢？她高貴的丈夫?qū)?huì)是個(gè)什么樣的人物呢？是的，這就是她心

　　中所想著的、她低聲對(duì)自己所講著的事情。當(dāng)我吹過(guò)長(zhǎng)廊、走進(jìn)大廳、然后又折轉(zhuǎn)身來(lái)的時(shí)候，我聽(tīng)到了她的話。

　　“那朵淡白的風(fēng)信子安娜·杜洛苔剛剛滿１４歲，是一個(gè)安靜和深思的女子。她那副大而深藍(lán)的眼睛有一種深思的表情，但她的嘴唇上仍

　　然*?著一種稚*?的微笑：我沒(méi)有辦法把它吹掉，也沒(méi)有心思要這樣做。

　　“我在花園里，在空巷里，在田野里遇見(jiàn)她。她在采摘花草；她知道，這些東西對(duì)她的父親有用：她可以把它們蒸餾成為飲料。瓦爾得馬

　　爾·杜是一個(gè)驕傲自負(fù)的人，不過(guò)他也是一個(gè)有學(xué)問(wèn)的人，知道很多東西。這不是一個(gè)秘密，人們都在談?wù)撨@事情。他的煙囪即使在夏天還有

　　火冒出來(lái)。他的房門(mén)是鎖著的，一連幾天幾夜都是這樣。但是他不大喜歡談這件事情——大自然的威力應(yīng)該是在沉靜中征服的。不久他就找出

　　一件最大的秘密——制造赤金。

　　“這正是為什么煙囪一天到晚在冒煙、一天到晚在噴出火焰的緣故。是的，我也在場(chǎng)！”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“‘停止吧！停止吧！’我對(duì)著煙囪口

　　唱：‘它的結(jié)果將會(huì)只是一陣煙、空氣、一堆炭和炭灰！你將會(huì)把你自己燒得精光！呼——呼——呼——去吧！停止吧！’但是瓦爾得馬爾·

　　杜并不放其他的企圖。

　　“馬廄里那些漂亮的馬兒——它們變成了什么呢？碗柜和箱子里的那些舊金銀器皿、田野里的母牛、財(cái)產(chǎn)和房屋都變成了什么呢？——是

　　的，它們可以熔化掉，可以在那金坩堝里熔化掉，但是那里面卻變不出金子！

　　“谷倉(cāng)和儲(chǔ)藏室，酒窖和庫(kù)房，現(xiàn)在空了。人數(shù)減少了，但是耗子卻增多了。這一塊玻璃裂了，那一塊玻璃碎了；我可以不需通過(guò)門(mén)就能

　　進(jìn)了，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“煙囪一冒煙，就說(shuō)明有人在煮飯。這兒的煙囪也在冒煙；不過(guò)為了煉赤金，卻把所有的飯都耗費(fèi)掉了。

　　“我吹進(jìn)院子的門(mén)，像一個(gè)看門(mén)人吹著號(hào)角一樣，不過(guò)這兒卻沒(méi)有什么看門(mén)人，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“我把尖頂上的那個(gè)風(fēng)信雞吹得團(tuán)團(tuán)轉(zhuǎn)。它嘎

　　嘎地響著，像一個(gè)守望塔上的衛(wèi)士在發(fā)出鼾聲，可是這兒卻沒(méi)有什么衛(wèi)士，這兒只有成群的耗子。‘貧窮’就躺在桌上，‘貧窮’就坐在衣櫥

　　里和櫥柜里；門(mén)脫了榫頭，裂縫出現(xiàn)了，我可以隨便跑出跑進(jìn)。”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)，“因此我什么全知道。

　　“在煙霧和灰塵中，在悲愁和失眠之夜，他的胡須和兩鬢都變白了。他的皮膚變得枯黃；他追求金子，他的眼睛就發(fā)出那種貪圖金子的光

　　。

　　“我把煙霧和火灰向他的臉上和胡須上吹去；他沒(méi)有得到金子，卻得到了一堆債務(wù)。我從碎了的窗玻璃和大開(kāi)的裂口吹進(jìn)去。我吹進(jìn)他女

　　兒們的衣柜里去，那里面的衣服都褪了色，破舊了，因此她們老是穿著這幾套衣服。這支歌不是在她們兒時(shí)的搖籃旁邊唱的！豪富的日子現(xiàn)在

　　變成了貧窮的生活！我是這座公館里唯一高聲唱歌的人！”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“我用雪把他們封在屋子里；人們說(shuō)雪可以保持住溫暖。他們沒(méi)有木柴；

　　那個(gè)供給他們木柴的樹(shù)林已經(jīng)被砍光了。天正下著嚴(yán)霜。我在裂縫和走廊里吹，我在三角墻上和屋頂上吹，為的是要運(yùn)動(dòng)一下。這三位出身高

　　貴的小姐，冷得爬不起床來(lái)。父親在破被子下縮成一團(tuán)。吃的東西也沒(méi)有了，燒的東西也沒(méi)有了——這就是貴族的生活！呼——噓！去吧！但

　　是這正是杜老爺所辦不到的事情。#p#

　　“‘冬天過(guò)后春天就來(lái)了，’他說(shuō)，‘貧窮過(guò)后快樂(lè)的時(shí)光就來(lái)了，但是快樂(lè)的時(shí)光必須等待！現(xiàn)在房屋和田地只剩下一張典契，這正是

　　倒霉的時(shí)候。但是金子馬上就會(huì)到來(lái)的——在復(fù)活節(jié)的時(shí)候就會(huì)到來(lái)！’

　　“我聽(tīng)到他望著蜘蛛網(wǎng)這樣講：‘你聰明的小織工，你教我堅(jiān)持下去！人們弄破你的網(wǎng)，你會(huì)重新再織，把它完成！人們?cè)贇У羲銜?huì)

　　堅(jiān)決地又開(kāi)始工作——又開(kāi)始工作！人也應(yīng)該是這樣，氣力絕不會(huì)白費(fèi)。’

　　“這是復(fù)活節(jié)的早晨。鐘在響，太陽(yáng)在天空中嬉戲。瓦爾得馬爾·杜在狂熱的興奮中守了一夜；他在熔化，冷凝，提煉和混和。我聽(tīng)到他

　　像一個(gè)失望的靈魂在嘆氣，我聽(tīng)到他在祈禱，我注意到他在屏住呼吸。燈里的油燃盡了，可是他不注意。我吹著炭火；火光映著他慘白的面孔

　　，使他泛出紅光。他深陷的眼睛在眼窩里望，眼睛越睜越大，好像要跳出來(lái)似的。

　　“請(qǐng)看這個(gè)煉金術(shù)士的玻璃杯！那里面發(fā)出紅光，它是赤熱的，純清的，沉重的！他用顫抖的手把它舉起來(lái)，用顫抖的聲音喊：‘金子！

　　金子！’他的頭腦有些昏沉——我很容易就把他吹倒，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“不過(guò)我只是扇著那灼熱的炭；我陪著他走到一個(gè)房間里去，他的女兒正在

　　那兒凍得發(fā)抖。他的上衣上全是炭灰；他的胡須里，蓬松的頭發(fā)上，也是炭灰。他筆直地站著，高高地舉*?放在易碎的玻璃杯里的貴重的寶物

　　。‘煉出來(lái)了，勝利了！——金子，金子！’他叫著，把杯子舉到空中，讓它在太陽(yáng)光中發(fā)出閃光。但是他的手在發(fā)抖；這位煉金術(shù)士的杯子

　　落到地上，跌成一千塊碎片。他的幸福的最后泡沫現(xiàn)在炸碎了！呼——噓——噓！去吧！我從這位煉金術(shù)士的家里走出去了。

　　“歲暮的時(shí)候，日子很短；霧降下來(lái)了，在紅漿果和光赤的枝子上凝成水滴。我精神飽滿地回來(lái)了，我橫渡高空，掃過(guò)青天，折斷干枝—

　　—這倒不是一件很艱難的工作，但是非做不可。在波列埠的公館里，在瓦爾得馬爾·杜的家里，現(xiàn)在有了另一種大掃除。他的敵人，巴斯納斯

　　的奧微·拉美爾拿著房子的典押契據(jù)和家具的出賣(mài)契據(jù)到來(lái)了。我在碎玻璃窗上敲，腐朽的門(mén)上打，在裂縫里面呼嘯：呼——噓！我要使奧微

　　·拉美爾不喜歡在這兒待下來(lái)。意德和安娜·杜洛苔哭得非常傷心；亭亭玉立的約翰妮臉上發(fā)白，她咬著拇指，一直到血流出來(lái)——但這又有

　　什么用呢？奧微·拉美爾準(zhǔn)許瓦爾得馬爾·杜在這兒一直住到死，可是并沒(méi)有人因此感謝他。我在靜靜地聽(tīng)。我看到這位無(wú)家可歸的紳士仰起

　　頭來(lái)，顯出一副比平時(shí)還要驕傲的神氣。我向這公館和那些老婆提樹(shù)襲來(lái)，折斷了一根最粗的枝子——一根還沒(méi)有腐朽的枝子。這枝子躺在門(mén)

　　口，像是一把掃帚，人們可以用它把這房子掃得精光，事實(shí)上人們也在掃了——我想這很好。

　　“這是艱難的日子，這是不容易保持鎮(zhèn)定的時(shí)刻；但是他們的意志是堅(jiān)強(qiáng)的，他們的骨關(guān)是硬的。

　　“除了穿的衣服以外，他們什么也沒(méi)有：是的，他們還有一件東西——一個(gè)新近買(mǎi)的煉金的杯子。它盛滿了從地上撿起來(lái)的那些碎片——

　　這東西期待有一天會(huì)變成財(cái)寶，但是從來(lái)沒(méi)有兌現(xiàn)。瓦爾得馬爾·杜把這財(cái)寶藏在他的懷里。這位曾經(jīng)一度豪富的紳士，現(xiàn)在手中拿著一根棍

　　子，帶著他的三個(gè)女兒走出了波列埠的公館。我在他灼熱的臉上吹了一陣寒氣，我撫摸著他灰色的胡須和雪白的長(zhǎng)頭發(fā)，我盡力唱出歌來(lái)——

　　‘呼——噓！去吧！去吧！’這就是豪華富貴的一個(gè)結(jié)局。

　　“意德在老人的一邊走，安娜·杜洛苔在另一邊走。約翰妮在門(mén)口掉轉(zhuǎn)頭來(lái)——為什么呢？幸運(yùn)并不會(huì)掉轉(zhuǎn)身來(lái)呀。她把馬爾斯克·斯蒂

　　格公館的紅墻壁望了一眼；她想起了斯蒂格的女兒們

　　年長(zhǎng)的姐姐牽著小妹妹的手，

　　她們一起在茫茫的世界漂流。

　　“難道她在想起了這支古老的歌嗎？現(xiàn)在她們姊妹三個(gè)人在一起——父親也跟在一道！他們走著這條路——他們?nèi)A麗的車子曾經(jīng)走過(guò)的這

　　條路。她們作為一群乞丐攙著父親向前走；他們走向斯來(lái)斯特魯?shù)奶锴f，走向那年租十個(gè)馬克的泥草棚里去，走向空洞的房間和沒(méi)有家具的新

　　家里去。烏鴉和穴烏在他們的頭上盤(pán)旋，號(hào)叫，仿佛是在譏刺他們：“沒(méi)有了窠！沒(méi)有了窠！沒(méi)有了！沒(méi)有了！’這正像波列埠的樹(shù)林被砍下

　　時(shí)鳥(niǎo)兒所作的哀鳴一樣。

　　“杜老爺和他的女兒們一聽(tīng)就明白了。我在他們的耳邊吹，因?yàn)槁?tīng)到這些話并沒(méi)有什么好處。

　　“他們住進(jìn)斯來(lái)斯特魯田莊上的泥草棚里去。我走過(guò)沼澤地和田野、光赤的灌木叢和落葉的樹(shù)林，走到汪洋的水上，走到別的國(guó)家里去：

　　呼——噓！去吧！去吧！永遠(yuǎn)地去吧！”瓦爾得馬爾·杜怎么樣了呢？他的女兒怎么樣了呢？風(fēng)兒說(shuō)：

　　“是的，我最后一次看到的是安娜·杜洛苔——那朵淡白色的風(fēng)信子：現(xiàn)在她老了，腰也彎了，因?yàn)槟且呀?jīng)是５０年以前的事情。她活得

　　最久；她經(jīng)歷了一切。

　　“在那長(zhǎng)滿了石楠植物的荒地上，在微堡城附近，有一幢華麗的、副主教住的新房子。它是用紅磚砌成的；它有鋸齒形的三角墻。濃煙從

　　煙囪里冒出來(lái)。那位*?淑的太太和她的莊重的女兒們坐在大窗口，朝花園里懸掛在那兒的鼠李（注：鼠李是一種落葉灌木或小喬木，開(kāi)黃綠色

　　小花，結(jié)紫黑色核果。）和長(zhǎng)滿了石楠植物的棕色荒地凝望。她們?cè)谕裁礀|西呢？她們?cè)谕莾阂粋€(gè)快要倒的泥草棚上的顴鳥(niǎo)窠。如果說(shuō)有

　　什么屋頂，那么這屋頂只是一堆青苔和石蓮花——最干凈的地方是顴鳥(niǎo)做窠的地方，而也只有這一部分是完整的，因?yàn)轱E鳥(niǎo)把它保持完整。

　　“那個(gè)屋子只能看，不能碰；我要對(duì)它謹(jǐn)慎一點(diǎn)才成，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“這泥草棚是因?yàn)轱E鳥(niǎo)在這兒做窠才被保存下來(lái)的，雖然它是這荒地上

　　一件嚇人的東西。副主教不愿意把顴鳥(niǎo)趕走，因此這個(gè)破棚子就被保存下來(lái)了，那里面的窮苦人也就能夠住下去。她應(yīng)該感謝這只埃及的鳥(niǎo)兒

　　（注：據(jù)丹麥的民間傳說(shuō)，顴鳥(niǎo)是從埃及飛來(lái)的。）。她曾經(jīng)在波列埠樹(shù)林里為它的黑兄弟的窠求過(guò)情，可能這是它的一種報(bào)酬吧？可憐的她

　　，在那時(shí)候，她還是一個(gè)年幼的孩子——豪富的花園里的一朵淡白的風(fēng)信子。安娜·杜洛苔把這一切都記得清清楚楚。

　　“‘啊！啊！是的，人們可以嘆息，像風(fēng)在蘆葦和燈芯草里嘆息一樣，?。“?！瓦爾得馬爾·杜，在你入葬的時(shí)候，沒(méi)有人為你敲響喪鐘

　　！當(dāng)這位波列埠的主人被埋進(jìn)土里的時(shí)候，也沒(méi)有窮孩子來(lái)唱一首圣詩(shī)！啊！任何東西都有一個(gè)結(jié)束，窮苦也是一樣！意德妹妹成了一個(gè)農(nóng)人

　　的妻子。這對(duì)我們的父親說(shuō)來(lái)是一個(gè)嚴(yán)厲的考驗(yàn)！女兒的丈夫——一個(gè)窮苦的農(nóng)奴！他的主人隨時(shí)可以叫他騎上木馬（注：這是封建時(shí)代歐洲

　　的一種刑具，樣子木馬，上面裝有尖物。犯了罪的人就被放在上面坐著。）。他現(xiàn)在已經(jīng)躺在地下了吧？至于你，意德，也是一樣嗎？唉！倒

　　霉的我，還沒(méi)有一個(gè)終結(jié)！仁慈的上帝，請(qǐng)讓我死吧！’

　　“這是安娜·杜洛苔在那個(gè)寒磣的泥草棚——為顴鳥(niǎo)留下的泥草棚——里所作的祈禱。

　　“三姊妹中最能干的一位我親自帶走了，”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。“她穿著一套合乎她的性格的衣服！她化裝成為一個(gè)窮苦的年輕人，到一條海船上去

　　工作。她不多講話，面孔很沉著，她愿意做自己的工作。但是爬桅桿她可不會(huì)；因此在別人還沒(méi)有發(fā)現(xiàn)她是一個(gè)女人以前，我就把她吹下船去

　　。我想這不是一樁壞事！”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)。

　　像瓦爾得馬爾·杜幻想他發(fā)現(xiàn)了赤金的那樣一個(gè)復(fù)活節(jié)的早晨，我在那幾堵要倒塌的墻之間，在顴鳥(niǎo)的窠底下，聽(tīng)到唱圣詩(shī)的聲音——這

　　是安娜·杜洛苔的最后的歌。

　　墻上沒(méi)有窗子，只有一個(gè)洞口。太陽(yáng)像一堆金子似地升起來(lái)，照著這屋子。陽(yáng)光才可愛(ài)哩！她的眼睛在碎裂，她的心在碎裂！——即使太

　　陽(yáng)這天早晨沒(méi)有照著她，這事情也會(huì)發(fā)生。

　　“顴鳥(niǎo)作為屋頂蓋著她，一直到她死！我在她的墳旁唱圣詩(shī)，她的墳在什么地方，別的人誰(shuí)也不知道。

　　“新的時(shí)代，不同的時(shí)代！私有的土地上修建了公路，墳?zāi)棺兂闪舜舐贰２痪谜魵饩蜁?huì)帶著長(zhǎng)列的火車到來(lái)，在那些像人名一樣被遺忘了

　　的墳上馳過(guò)去——呼——噓！去吧！去吧！

　　“這是瓦爾得馬爾·杜和他的女兒們的故事。假如你們能夠的話，請(qǐng)把它講得更好一點(diǎn)吧！”風(fēng)兒說(shuō)完就掉轉(zhuǎn)身。它不見(jiàn)了。（１８５９

　　年）

　　這篇作品，首次發(fā)表于１８５９年３月２４日在哥本哈根出版的《新的童話和故事集》第三卷。安徒生在手記中寫(xiě)道：

　　“關(guān)于斯克爾斯戈附近的波列埠莊園的一些民間傳說(shuō)和野史記載中，有一個(gè)《瓦爾得馬爾和他的女兒們》的故事。我寫(xiě)這個(gè)故事的時(shí)候，

　　在風(fēng)格方面花了很大的氣力。我想使我的行文產(chǎn)生一種像風(fēng)一樣明快、光亮的效果，因此我就讓這個(gè)故事由風(fēng)講出來(lái)。”這是安徒生在童話創(chuàng)

　　作的風(fēng)格上的一種新的嘗試，即不斷創(chuàng)新。

　　故事的內(nèi)容很明顯，就是一個(gè)貴族及其家族的沒(méi)落。這是對(duì)他們的一首具有象征意義的挽歌——因而安徒生就讓風(fēng)把它唱出來(lái)。“新的時(shí)

　　代，不同的時(shí)代！私有的土地上修建了公路，墳?zāi)棺兂闪舜舐贰２痪谜魵饩蜁?huì)帶著長(zhǎng)列的火車到來(lái)，在那像人名一樣被遺忘了的墳上馳過(guò)去—

　　—呼——噓！去吧！去吧！”就是這不停的“去吧！去吧！”又把蒸氣扔在后面讓噴氣把人類送到更高的天空。舊的“去”；新的“來(lái)”，但

　　安徒生關(guān)于人類歷史和文明不斷進(jìn)展的思想?yún)s是不變的，“放之四海而皆準(zhǔn)。”