我的“本家”王尔德的童话集《夜莺与玫瑰》讲述了他眼中的爱情。C总看了之后说这个故事好凄惨。但是往往就是命中注定的凄惨才让这些故事动人。人生如戏台，每个人都在扮演自己的角色。有的入戏太深，无法自拔，才能演绎出精彩绝伦的人生。否则每个人都淡淡地不肯入戏，岂不是少了很多让人欲罢不能的故事？
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE
She said that she
would dance with me if I brought her red roses,” cried the young
Student; “but in all my garden there is no red rose.”From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and she
looked out through the leaves, and wondered.
“No red rose in all my garden!” he cried, and his beautiful eyes
filled with tears. “Ah, on what little things does happiness depend!
Ihave read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets
of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made
wretched.”
“Here at last is a true lover,” said the Nightingale. “Night after
night have I sung of him, though I knew him not: night after night have
I told his story to the stars, and now I see him. His hair is dark as
the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are red as the rose of his desire;
but passion has made his face like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her
seal upon his brow.”
“The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night,” murmured the young
Student, “and my love will be of the company. If I bring her a red rose
she will dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose,
Ishall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my
shoulder,43and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no red rose in my
garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will have no
heed of me, and my heart will break.”
SHE WILL PASS ME BY
“Here indeed is the true lover,” said the Nightingale. “What I sing
of, he suffers: what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely Love is a
wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine
opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the
market-place. It may not be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be
weighed out in the balance for gold.”
“The musicians will sit in their gallery,” said the young Student,
“and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love will dance to the
sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her
feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their gay dresses
will throng round her. But with me she will not44dance, for I have no red rose to give her;” and he flung himself down on
the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.
“Why is he weeping?” asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past him
with his tail in the air.
“Why, indeed?” said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a
sunbeam.
“Why, indeed?” whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low
voice.
“He is weeping for a red rose,” said the Nightingale.
“For a red rose?” they cried; “how very ridiculous!” and the little
Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.
But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student’s sorrow,
and she sat silent in the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of
Love.
Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the
air. She45passed through the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed
across the garden.
In the centre of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, and
when she saw it she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.
“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
song.”
But the Tree shook its head.
“My roses are white,” it answered; “as white as the foam of the sea,
and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. But go to my brother who
grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give you what you
want.”
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round
the old sun-dial.
“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
song.”
But the Tree shook its head.
“My roses are yellow,” it answered; “as46yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne, and
yellower than the daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower
comes with his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the
Student’s window, and perhaps he will give you what you want.”