世界名著THE BUCKWHEAT_世界经典名著阅读书目

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1872

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

THE BUCKWHEAT

by Hans Christian Andersen

VERY often, after a violent thunder-storm, a field of buckwheat

appears blackened and singed, as if a flame of fire had paed over

it.The country people say that this appearance is caused by

lightning;but I will tell you what the sparrow says, and the

sparrow heard it from an old willow-tree which grew near a field of

buckwheat, and is there still.It is a large venerable tree, though

a little crippled by age.The trunk has been split, and out of the

crevice gra and brambles grow.The tree bends for-ward slightly, and

the branches hang quite down to the ground just like green hair.Corn grows in the surrounding fields, not only rye and barley, but

oats,-pretty oats that, when ripe, look like a number of little golden

canary-birds sitting on a bough.The corn has a smiling look and the

heaviest and richest ears bend their heads low as if in pious

humility.Once there was also a field of buckwheat, and this field was

exactly opposite to old willow-tree.The buckwheat did not bend like

the other grain, but erected its head proudly and stiffly on the stem.“I am as valuable as any other corn,” said he, “and I am much

handsomer;my flowers are as beautiful as the bloom of the apple

bloom, and it is a pleasure to look at us.Do you know of anything

prettier than we are, you old willow-tree?”

And the willow-tree nodded his head, as if he would say, “Indeed I

do.”

But the buckwheat spread itself out with pride, and said,“Stupid tree;he is so old that gra grows out of his body.”

There arose a very terrible storm.All the field-flowers folded

their leaves together, or bowed their little heads, while the storm

paed over them, but the buckwheat stood erect in its pride.“Bend

your head as we do,” said the flowers.“I have no occasion to do so,” replied the buckwheat.“Bend your head as we do,” cried the ears of corn;“the angel of

the storm is coming;his wings spread from the sky above to the

earth beneath.He will strike you down before you can cry for mercy.”

“But I will not bend my head,” said the buckwheat.“Close your flowers and bend your leaves,” said the old

willow-tree.“Do not look at the lightning when the cloud bursts;even

men cannot do that.In a flash of lightning heaven opens, and we can

look in;but the sight will strike even human beings blind.What

then must happen to us, who only grow out of the earth, and are so

inferior to them, if we venture to do so?”

“Inferior, indeed!” said the buckwheat.“Now I intend to have a

peep into heaven.” Proudly and boldly he looked up, while the

lightning flashed acro the sky as if the whole world were in flames.When the dreadful storm had paed, the flowers and the corn

raised their drooping heads in the pure still air, refreshed by the

rain, but the buckwheat lay like a weed in the field, burnt to

blackne by the lightning.The branches of the old willow-tree

rustled in the wind, and large water-drops fell from his green leaves

as if the old willow were weeping.Then the sparrows asked why he was

weeping, when all around him seemed so cheerful.“See,” they said,how the sun shines, and the clouds float in the blue sky.Do you not

smell the sweet perfume from flower and bush? Wherefore do you weep,old willow-tree?" Then the willow told them of the haughty pride of

the buckwheat, and of the punishment which followed in consequence.This is the story told me by the sparrows one evening when I

begged them to relate some tale to me.THE END.