The Nightingale
Hans Christian Andersen
You know, of course, that in China the Emperor is Chinese, and all the people around him are Chinese too. It happened a good many years ago, but that's just why it's worthwhile to hear the story, before it is forgotten. The Emperor's palace was the most splendid in the world; entirely and altogether made of porcelain, so costly, but so brittle, that one had to be terribly careful. In the garden were to be seen the strangest flowers, and to the most splendid of them silver bells were tied, which tinkled so that nobody should pass by without noticing the flowers. Oh, the Emperor's garden had been laid out very smartly, and it extended so far that the gardener himself didn't know where the end was. If you went on and on, you came into the loveliest forest with high trees and deep lakes. The forest went right down to the sea, which was blue and deep; tall ships could sail right in under the branches of the trees; and in the trees lived a Nightingale, which sang so sweetly that even the poor fisherman, who had many other things to do, stopped still and listened when he had gone out at night to take up his nets and then heard the Nightingale.
"Dear me, isn't that nice!" he said; but he had to attend to his business and forgot the bird. But the next night when the bird sang again, he said the same thing, "Dear me, isn't that very nice!" From all the countries of the world, travelers came to the city of the Emperor and admired it and the palace and the garden, but when they heard the Nightingale, they said, "That is the best of all!"
And the travelers told about it when they came home, and the learned men wrote many books about the city, the palace, and the garden. But the Nightingale was placed highest of all.
The books went through all the world, and a few of them once came to the Emperor. He sat in his golden chair, and read, and read. Every moment he nodded his head, for it pleased him to read the splendid descriptions of the city, the palace, and the garden. "But the Nightingale is the best of all," it stood written there.
"What's that?" said the Emperor.
"The Nightingale! Is there such a bird in my own garden? I've never heard of that."
And then he called his cavalier.
"They tell me that we have here a highly remarkable bird called a Nightingale!" said the Emperor.
"They say it is the best thing in all my great empire. Why haven't I ever been told about this?"
"I have never before heard anybody mention it," said the cavalier.
"I command that it shall appear this evening and sing before me," said the Emperor.
So the cavalier ran up and down all the stairs, through halls and corridors, but no one he met had ever heard of the Nightingale. And the cavalier ran back to the Emperor and said that it must be a fable invented by the writers.
"Your Majesty mustn't believe the things people write; it's nothing but lies and something called the black art!"
"But the book," said the Emperor, "was sent to me by the Emperor of Japan, and therefore it cannot be a lie. I will hear the Nightingale! It must be here this evening! And if it does not come, the whole court will be punched on the stomach!"
"Tsing-pe!" said the cavalier, and again he ran up and down all the stairs and through all the halls and corridors, and half the court ran with him, because they didn't like being punched on the stomach.
At last they met a poor little girl in the kitchen, who said: "Heavens, yes, the Nightingale? I know it very well; yes, it certainly can sing! Every evening when I walk back home and am tired and rest in the wood, then I hear the Nightingale sing. And then the tears come into my eyes, and it is just as if my mother kissed me!"
"Little kitchen maid," said the cavalier, "I will get you a permanent appointment in the kitchen, with permission to see the Emperor dine, if you will lead us to the Nightingale."
So they all went out into the wood; half the court went along. When they were in the midst of their journey, a cow began to low.
"Oh!" said all the court cavaliers, "there it is! That's really a remarkable power in so small a creature!"
"No, those are cows lowing!” said the little kitchen maid. "We are a long way from the place yet."
Now the frogs began to croak in the pool.
"Glorious!" said the court preacher. "Now I can hear it—it sounds just like little church bells."
"No, those are frogs," said the little kitchen maid. "But now I think we shall soon hear it."
And then the Nightingale began to sing.
"That is it!" said the little girl. "Listen, listen! And it's sitting there!"
And she pointed to a little gray bird up in the boughs.
"Is it possible?" said the cavalier. "I should never have thought it looked like that! How plain it looks! I suppose it lost its color at seeing so many aristocratic visitors."
"Little Nightingale!" called the little kitchen maid, quite loudly, "our gracious Emperor would so like you to sing for him."
"With the greatest pleasure!" said the Nightingale. So the little bird flew to the palace.
In the palace everything was wonderfully fixed up. The walls and the flooring, which were of porcelain, gleamed in the rays of thousands of golden lamps. The loveliest flowers, those that tinkled best, had been placed in the passages.
In the midst of the great hall, where the Emperor sat, a golden perch had been placed, on which the Nightingale was to sit. The whole court was there, and the little kitchen maid had been allowed to stand behind the door, as she had now received the title of a Regular Cook. All were in full dress, and all looked at the little gray bird, to which the Emperor nodded.
And the Nightingale sang so beautifully that the tears came into the Emperor's eyes, and, the tears ran down over his cheeks, and then the Nightingale sang still more sweetly, so that its song went straight to the heart. The Emperor was so pleased that he said the Nightingale should have his golden slipper to wear around its neck. But the Nightingale thanked him and said it had already had reward enough.
"I have seen tears in the Emperor's eyes—there is no richer treasure for me." And then it sang again with its marvelously sweet voice. That night the Nightingale had a real success.
It was now to remain at court, to have its own cage, with liberty to go out twice every day and once at night. Twelve servants came along when the Nightingale went out, each of whom had a silken string fastened to the bird's leg, which they held very tight.
The whole city spoke of the remarkable bird, and eleven grocers' children were named after the bird, but not one of them could sing a note.
One day the Emperor received a large parcel, on which was written "The Nightingale".
It was a little work of art, lying in a box, an artificial nightingale, which was decorated with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. When it was wound up, it could sing one of the pieces that the real bird sang, and then its tail moved up and down, and glittered with silver and gold.
"Isn't that lovely?" they all said. It made just as much of a hit as the real one, and it was much handsomer to look at.
Three-and-thirty times over, it sang the same piece; still it was not tired. The people would gladly have heard it again, but the Emperor said that the living Nightingale ought to sing something now.
But where was it? No one had noticed that it had flown away out of the open window, back to the greenwood.
And all the courtiers scolded the Nightingale and declared that it was a very ungrateful creature." We have the best bird, after all," they said.
And so the artificial bird had to sing again, and that was the thirty-fourth piece, but still they didn't know it quite by heart, for it was so very difficult. And the music master praised the bird very highly; yes, he declared that it was better than the real Nightingale, not only with regard to its plumage and the many beautiful diamonds, but inside as well.
The real Nightingale was banished from the country. The artificial bird had its place on a silken cushion close to the Emperor's bed; all the presents it had received, gold and precious stones, lay around it; in title it had advanced to be the High Imperial Night-Table-Singer.
So a whole year went by. The Emperor, the court, and all the other Chinese knew every little gurgle in the artificial bird's song by heart. And that was just why they liked it.
But one evening, when the artificial bird was singing its best, and the Emperor lay in bed listening to it, something inside the bird said "Whizz!" Something cracked and then the music stopped.
The Emperor jumped out of bed right away and sent for his own doctor; but what could he do? Then they sent for a watchmaker, and after a good deal of talking and looking, the bird was put into something like order; but the watchmaker said that the bird must be carefully treated, for the pivots were worn. There was great lamentation; only once in a year was it permitted to let the bird sing.
Now five years had gone by, and a real grief came on the whole nation. The Chinese did, after all, like their Emperor very much, and now he was ill, and they said he couldn't live much longer. Already a new Emperor had been chosen, and the people stood out in the street and asked the cavalier how their old Emperor was.
"Poo!" he said, and shook his head.
Cold and pale, the Emperor lay in his big gorgeous bed; the whole court thought him dead, and each one ran to bow to the new Emperor. But the Emperor was not dead yet; stiff and pale, he lay on the gorgeous bed with the long velvet curtains and the heavy gold tassels; high up, a window stood open, and the moon shone in on the Emperor and the artificial bird.
The poor Emperor could scarcely breathe; it was just as if something sat on his chest, and had put on his crown, and held in one hand the Emperor's gold sword, and in the other his beautiful banner.
And all around, from the folds of the big velvet bed curtains, strange heads peered forth; some ugly, others lovely. These were all the Emperor's bad and good deeds looking at him now that Death sat on his heart.
"Do you remember this?" whispered one after the other. "Do you remember that?" Then they told him so much that the sweat ran from his forehead.
"I never knew that!" said the Emperor. "Music! Music! The big Chinese drum!" he called, "so that I won't hear everything they say!"
And they kept on.
"Music! Music!" cried the Emperor. "My blessed little golden bird, sing, sing! I have given you gold and costly presents; I have even hung my golden slipper around your neck—sing now, sing!"vBut the bird stood still; no one was there to wind it up, and it couldn't sing without that; but Death kept on looking at the Emperor with his great hollow eyes, and all was so still, so terribly still.
Just then the loveliest song sounded close by the window. It was the little live Nightingale that sat outside on a spray. It had heard of the Emperor's danger and had come to sing to him of comfort and hope.
And as it sang, the specters grew paler and paler; the blood ran quicker and quicker through the Emperor's weak body, and even Death listened and said:
"Go on, little Nightingale, go on!"
"But will you give me that splendid golden sword? Will you give me that rich banner? Will you give me the Emperor's crown?"
And Death gave up each treasure for a song. And the Nightingale sang on and on, and it sang of the quiet churchyard where the white roses grow, where the elder blossom smells sweet, and where the fresh grass is moistened by the tears of survivors. Then Death felt a longing for his garden and floated like a cold white mist out of the window.
"I thank you, thank you!" said the Emperor. "You heavenly little bird! I know you well. I drove you from my country, and yet you have sung away the evil faces from my bed, and taken Death from my heart! How can I reward you?"
"You have rewarded me!" said the Nightingale. "I have drawn tears from your eyes, when I sang the first time—I shall never forget that. Those are the jewels that do a singer's heart good. But now sleep and grow fresh and strong again. I will sing for you."
And it sang, and the Emperor fell into a sweet sleep. Oh, how mild and refreshing that sleep was!
The sun shone on him through the windows when he woke up strong and well; not one of his servants had come back yet, for they all thought he was dead; only the Nightingale still sat beside him and sang.
"You must always stay with me," said the Emperor. "You shall sing only when you please, and I'll break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces."
"Don't do that," said the Nightingale. "It did as well as it could; keep it as you have done till now. I cannot live in the palace, but let me come when I want to; then I will sit in the evening on the branch there by the window and sing you something, so that you may be glad and thoughtful at once. I will sing of those who are happy and of those who suffer. I will sing of the good and the evil that people hide around you. The little singing bird flies far around, to the poor fisherman, to the peasant's roof, to everyone who dwells far away from you and your court. I will sing to you—but one thing you must promise me."
"Everything! Anything!" said the Emperor, and he stood there in his imperial robes, which he had put on himself, and pressed the sword which was heavy with gold to his heart.
"One thing I beg of you: tell no one that you have a little bird who tells you everything. Then things will be even better."
And the Nightingale flew away.
The servants came in to look at their dead Emperor, and一well, there they were, and the Emperor said "Good morning!"
夜莺
汉斯·克里斯蒂安·安徒生
你肯定知道,在中国,皇帝是中国人,他周围的人也是中国人。这故事是许多年以前发生的,但正因为这一点,在它被遗忘之前,这个故事才值得一听。这位皇帝的宫殿是世界上最华丽的地方,完全是瓷制的,如此地昂贵、易碎,人们必须万分当心。人们在御花园里可以看到世界上最珍奇的花儿。那些最名贵的花上都系着银铃,它们叮当作响,使走过的人们不得不注意这些花儿。噢,皇帝花园里的一切东西都布置得非常精巧。花园是那么大,连园丁都不知道它的尽头在什么地方。如果一个人不停地向前走,他可以碰到一片茂密美丽的树林,里面有很高的树,还有很深的湖。树林一直伸向蔚蓝色的、深沉的大海。巨大的船只可以在树枝底下航行。树林里住着一只夜莺。它的歌唱得非常美妙,就连一个忙碌的穷苦渔夫在夜间出去收网的时候,一听到这夜莺的歌声,也不得不停下来聆听。
“我的天,唱得多么美啊! ”他说。但是他不得不去做他的工作,所以只好把这鸟儿忘掉。不过第二天晚上,这鸟儿又唱起来了。渔夫听到歌声的时候,不禁又同样地说,“我的天,唱得多么美啊! ” 来自世上各国的旅行者们来到了皇帝所在的城市,他们都很羡慕这座城市、宫殿和花园。但当他们听了夜莺的歌声时,都说:“这可是世上最棒的东西了。”
当他们回到家时,就谈论起这事,有学问的人就写了很多关于这座城市、宫殿和花园的书。 但是却把夜莺排在了首位。
书在世界各地流传,其中有几本到了皇帝手里。他坐在黄金宝座上,看啊,看啊。每当读到有关城市、宫殿和花园的精彩描写时,他都会高兴得直点头。“但夜莺是最美的东西。”这句话清楚地写在书中。
皇帝说:“这是什么意思? ”
“夜莺!我自己的花园里有这种鸟儿吗?我从没听说过。”
接着,他叫来了武士。
皇帝说:“他们告诉我说这儿有一只非常出色的叫夜莺的鸟!
他们说这是我伟大的王国里最好的东西。为什么从没有人告诉过我呢? ”
武士说:“以前我从没听人提起过。”
皇帝说:“我命令:夜莺今晚要出现在我面前为我歌唱。”
武士跑遍了大厅和走廊里所有上上下下的楼梯,但是他所遇见的人都从没听说过夜莺。武士跑回到皇帝面前说这肯定是作者编造的故事。
“陛下,您不应相信人们所写的东西,这全是谎言和巫术啊! ”
皇帝说:“但是,书是日本天皇送给我的,因此,不可能是谎言。我要听夜莺唱歌!它必须今晚就到这里。如果它不能来的话,所有的大臣们都要受到惩罚!”
武士说:“是!”他再一次跑遍所有大厅和走廊里的所有楼梯,有一半的大臣们跟在他后面跑,因为他们不想受到惩罚。
最后,他们遇到了一个贫穷的在厨房里工作的小姑娘。她说:“啊,嗯,夜莺?我非常了解,嗯,它当然会唱歌!每天晚上,当我回家,累了,在树林中休息时,我就会听见夜莺的歌声。然后,眼泪就会涌上双眼,就像是妈妈在亲吻我!”
武士说:“小厨娘,如果你领我们找到夜莺的话,我会给你在厨房安排一个固定的工作,并允许你伺奉皇帝用膳。”
就这样,他们一起出发,来到树林,一半的大臣们跟随而至。当他们行至半程时,一头奶牛开始“哞哞”地叫起来。
所有的大臣们都说:“噢!在那儿呢!这么小的生命竟有这么大的力气!”
小厨娘说:“不,这些是牛在叫!我们离目的地还远着呢。”
现在,青蛙又开始在池塘里叫起来。
传道的大臣说:“太好了!现在我能听见了:它听起来就像教堂的钟声。”
小厨娘说:“不,这些是青蛙。但现在,我想我们不久就能听见夜莺叫了。”
就在那时,夜莺开始唱歌了。
小厨娘说:“找到了!听,听啊!夜莺在那儿。”
她指着那只在树上的灰色的小鸟。
武士说:“不可能吧?我从没想到它长这个样子!简直太普通了!我看它一定是因为看到这么多尊贵的来访者而吓得失去了光彩吧。”
小厨娘大声地叫着:“小夜莺,我们仁慈的皇帝陛下想让你去给他唱歌呢。”
夜莺说:“万分荣幸!”于是,小鸟飞到了宫殿。
宫殿里的一切装修都是如此豪华:墙和地板都是瓷的,在数不清的金色灯光的照耀下闪闪发光。过道里摆满了最美丽的鲜花,上面的铃铛叮咚作响。
皇帝坐在大殿中央,夜莺站在一根专门为其安装的金栖柱上。所有的大臣们都来了,因为小厨娘现在得到了专职厨师的头衔,所以经允许她可以站在门后。所有的人都盛装打扮,所有的人都看着那只小灰鸟,皇帝一直朝它点着头。
夜莺唱得如此动人,以致眼泪涌上了皇帝的双眼,泪水从他的脸颊滑落。后来,夜莺唱得更动听了,以致夜莺的歌进入了人的心里。皇帝太高兴了,他说应把他的金色拖鞋戴在夜莺脖子上。但是夜莺谢绝了他,并说自己得到的回报已经够多的了。
“我看见皇帝眼中的泪水,对我来说没有比这更珍贵的了。”然后,夜莺再次用甜美的声音唱了起来。那天晚上,夜莺获得了很大的成功。
夜莺便在宫里住下了,有它自己的笼子,并有白天外出两次、晚上外出一次的自由。当夜莺外出时,12个侍者相随,每个人的手中都紧攥着一条系在夜莺腿上的丝绳。
整个城市都在谈论着这只让人惊奇的鸟。11个杂货商的孩子都用这只鸟来命名,但是,他们中没有一个人会唱歌。
有一天,皇帝收到一个上面写着“夜莺”的大包裹。
这是一个放在盒子里的小艺术品:一只人造夜莺。它是用钻石、红宝石和蓝宝石装饰的。当它上了发条,就会唱夜莺所唱过的一首歌曲,它的尾巴上下摇动,金光灿烂。
人们都说:“难道不可爱吗?”它获得了和夜莺一样的成功,而且它比夜莺看上去更漂亮。
它33次唱着同一首歌曲,然而,它并不疲倦。人们很高兴听它一遍又一遍地唱歌。但是皇帝说现在该听一听真夜莺唱点儿什么了。
但夜莺在哪里呢?没有人注意到它已从开着的窗口飞走了,回到了绿色的森林之中。
所有的朝臣们都责怪这只夜莺,说它是一个忘恩负义的东西。他们说:“毕竟,我们有了最出色的鸟。”
就这样,这只人造的鸟不得不再次唱歌了,这已经是第34遍了,但人们仍然没有牢记下来, 因为太难了。音乐大师高度评价了这只鸟,不管是它的羽毛以及那么多的美丽的钻石,还是它的内部构造,都比那只真夜莺好得多。
那只真夜莺被驱逐出这个国家。人造鸟待在紧挨皇帝床榻的一个丝制垫子上。它所收到的礼物有金子和珍贵的宝石,全都放在身边。至于说到头衔,它被封为“大帝国夜晚餐桌上的歌唱家”。
这样一年过去了。皇帝、大臣、所有的中国人对人造鸟的歌中的每个音符都了如指掌,但这正是人们所喜欢的。
但有一天晚上,这只人造鸟正卖力地唱着,皇帝躺在床上听着,这只鸟的体内发出“咝”的 —声。什么东西“噼啪”一声响,然后音乐就停下了。
皇帝马上从床上跳起来,派人请御医。但医生又能有什么办法呢?接着,他们又请来一个修表匠。经过一番商量和查看,这只鸟勉强修好了,但修表匠说必须仔细保护它,因为轴磨损了。真是太不幸了,现在这只鸟一年只能唱一次了。
又过了五年,一场真正的不幸降临到这个国家。无论怎样,中国人非常爱他们的皇帝。现在,皇帝病了,他们说他不会活太久了。一个新的皇帝已被选出。人们站在外面的街道上,询问武士老皇帝怎样了。
武士摇头说:“唉!”
皇帝躺在他华丽的大床上,冷冰冰的、面色惨白。整个朝廷的人都认为他死了,所有人都跑去向新皇帝鞠躬。但老皇帝并没有死,他躺在华丽的床上,直挺挺的、面色苍白。床边挂着长长的天鹅绒帐,上面带着金流苏。高高的窗子敞开着,月亮照在皇帝和那只人造鸟身上。
可怜的皇帝几乎不能呼吸了,好像什么东西坐到了他的胸部,戴着他的王冠,一只手里握着他的金剑,另一只手里握着他的美丽的旗帜。
周围有一些奇怪的脑袋从厚重的天鹅绒帐的褶皱里偷偷地探出来,有的很丑陋,有的很可爱。因为坐在他的胸部的是“死神”,他平生的恶行和善行在看着他。
声音一个接一个地轻轻传来:“你记得这个吗?”“你记得那个吗?”接着,他们和皇帝说了很多话,汗水从皇帝的前额上流下来。
皇帝说:“我以前从不知道这个!”他喊道:“音乐!音乐!中国鼓!我不想听他们说的一切!”
然而它们还是不停地在讲。
“音乐!音乐!”皇帝叫喊起来。“你这只可爱的小金鸟儿,唱啊,唱啊!我曾送给你金子和贵重的礼品,我曾经亲自把我的金拖鞋挂在你的脖颈上——现在请唱呀,唱呀!”可是这只鸟儿站着动也不动一下,因为没人给它上发条,而它不上好发条就唱不出歌来。不过死神继续用他空洞的大眼睛盯着这位皇帝。四周一片静寂,可怕的静寂。
正在这时,窗子那儿最美妙的歌声响起来了,这就是那只活生生的小夜莺。它站在外面的一根树枝上。它听说了皇帝的危险境况,为了给皇帝带来安慰和希望,它到这里唱歌。
当它歌唱的时候,那些幽灵的面孔渐渐变得苍白,同时血液也开始越来越快地流遍了皇帝虚弱的身体。就连死神自己也开始听起歌来,并且说道:
“继续唱,小夜莺,继续唱!”
“不过,你愿意给我那把美丽的金剑吗?你愿意给我那面华贵的令旗吗?你愿意给我那顶皇帝的王冠吗? ”
为了一首歌,死神放弃了每一件财宝。于是夜莺不停地唱了又唱。它歌唱那安静的教堂墓地,那儿有盛开的白玫瑰花,那儿有花儿散发的芬芳,还有被生者泪水打湿的嫩草。这时死神开始眷恋他的墓园,像一阵冰冷的白雾飞出了窗外。
“多谢,多谢!”皇帝说。“你这小小的神鸟!我现在懂你了。我把你从这个国家赶走,而你却用歌声帮我驱走了床边的恶魔,内心的死神。我将用什么来报答你呢? ”
“您已经报答我了!”夜莺说:“当我第一次唱歌的时候,您就流下了眼泪——这件事我将永不忘记。这些对一个歌唱家的内心来说是最好的珠宝。不过现在请您睡吧,养好精神,变得健康起来吧,我将继续为您歌唱。”
于是它又唱了起来,皇帝又进入了甜美的梦乡。啊,这一觉睡得多舒服,多让人精神啊!
醒来时,阳光透过窗子照在身上,他感到神志清新、精神倍增;他的侍从还一个也没有来,因为他们以为他死了;只有夜莺仍然站在他身边唱着歌。
“你一定要留在我身边,”皇帝说,“你高兴唱的时候就唱,我要把那只人造鸟摔得粉碎。”
“请您不要那样做,”夜莺说,“它已经尽了它最大的努力;让它仍然留在您的身边吧。我不能住在宫里;不过,让我在想来的时候来这里吧;我将在黄昏的时候站在窗外的树枝上,为您唱点儿什么,让您立刻快乐和思考。我将歌唱那些幸福的人们和那些遭受苦难的人们。我将歌唱隐藏在您周围的善人和恶人。我这只会唱歌的鸟现在要飞到周围很遥远的地方去,飞到穷苦的渔夫身旁,飞到农民的屋顶上,飞到住得远离您和您的宫廷的每个人身边。我要为您唱歌,但是,您必须答应我一件事。”
“什么事都成!”皇帝说。他亲自穿上他的朝服站在那里,同时把他那把沉重的金剑按在心上。“
我恳求您一件事:请您不要告诉任何人,说您有一只会把什么事情都讲给您听的小鸟。只有这样,一切才会更好。”
于是夜莺飞走了。
侍从们都进来看他们死去的皇帝。噢,他们到了,皇帝说:“早安!”
Key Words:
brittle ['britl]
adj. 易碎的,敏感的,尖利的,冷淡的
costly ['kɔstli]
adj. 昂贵的,代价高的
worthwhile ['wə:θ'wail]
adj. 值得(做)的
porcelain ['pɔ:slin]
n. 瓷器,瓷
extended [iks'tendid]
adj. 延续的,广大的,扩大范围的 动词extend的
haven ['heivn]
n. 港口,避难所,安息所 v. 安置 ... 于港中,
remarkable [ri'mɑ:kəbl]
adj. 显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的\
command [kə'mɑ:nd]
n. 命令,指挥,控制
v. 命令,指挥,支配
kitchen ['kitʃin]
n. 厨房,(全套)炊具,灶间
fable ['feibl]
n. 寓言
permission [pə'miʃən]
n. 同意,许可,允许
kitchen ['kitʃin]
n. 厨房,(全套)炊具,灶间
cow [kau]
n. 母牛,母兽
vt. 恐吓
croak [krəuk]
v. 嗄嗄叫,发牢骚,死 n. 嗄嗄声,哇哇声
permanent ['pə:mənənt]
adj. 永久的,持久的
n. 烫发
remarkable [ri'mɑ:kəbl]
adj. 显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的
plain [plein]
n. 平原,草原
kitchen ['kitʃin]
n. 厨房,(全套)炊具,灶间
perch [pə:tʃ]
n. 栖木,高位,杆 v. 栖息,就位,位于
porcelain ['pɔ:slin]
n. 瓷器,瓷
remarkable [ri'mɑ:kəbl]
adj. 显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的
spoke [spəuk]
v. 说,说话,演说
artificial [.ɑ:ti'fiʃəl]
adj. 人造的,虚伪的,武断的
string [striŋ]
n. 线,一串,字串
vt. 串起,成串,收紧
parcel ['pɑ:sl]
n. 包裹,一块(土地),部分
artificial [.ɑ:ti'fiʃəl]
adj. 人造的,虚伪的,武断的
imperial [im'piəriəl]
adj. 帝国(王)的,至尊的,特大的
advanced [əd'vɑ:nst]
adj. 高级的,先进的
precious ['preʃəs]
adj. 宝贵的,珍贵的,矫揉造作的
artificial [.ɑ:ti'fiʃəl]
adj. 人造的,虚伪的,武断的
banner ['bænə]
n. 旗帜,横幅,大标题
adj. 特别好的,
permitted
adj. 被允许的 v. 允许(permit的过去分词)
sword [sɔ:d]
n. 剑,刀
grief [gri:f]
n. 悲痛,忧伤
bow [bau]
n. 弓
n. 鞠躬,蝴蝶结,船头
stiff [stif]
adj. 硬的,僵直的,生硬的,拘谨的,不灵活的
comfort ['kʌmfət]
n. 舒适,安逸,安慰,慰藉
vt. 安慰,使
hollow ['hɔləu]
n. 洞,窟窿,山谷
adj. 空的,虚伪的,
costly ['kɔstli]
adj. 昂贵的,代价高的
drum [drʌm]
n. 鼓,鼓声,鼓状物
vi. 击鼓,连续敲击
sweat [swet]
n. 汗,汗水
longing ['lɔŋiŋ]
n. 渴望,憧憬 adj. 渴望的
blossom ['blɔsəm]
n. 花,开花,全盛期
vi. 开花,成长
banner ['bænə]
n. 旗帜,横幅,大标题
adj. 特别好的,
mist [mist]
n. 雾,迷蒙,朦胧不清
vt. 使 ...
mild [maild]
adj. 温和的,柔和的
sword [sɔ:d]
n. 剑,刀
branch [brɑ:ntʃ]
n. 分支,树枝,分店,分部
v. 分支,分岔
imperial [im'piəriəl]
adj. 帝国(王)的,至尊的,特大的
sword [sɔ:d]
n. 剑,刀
artificial [.ɑ:ti'fiʃəl]
adj. 人造的,虚伪的,武断的
thoughtful ['θɔ:tful]
adj. 深思的,体贴的
参考资料: