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When she had finished her song, the Student got up.
等她的歌聲一停，那個學(xué)生便從草地上站了起來。
"She has form," he said to himself, as he walked away through the grove. "That cannot be denied. But has she got feeling? I'm afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists: she is all style without any sincerity." And he went to his room, and lay down on his bed, and after a time, fell asleep.
“她的樣子真好看，”他自言自語道，說著就走開了。“那是不能否認(rèn)的。但是她有情感嗎？ 我想她恐怕沒有。事實上，她就跟大多數(shù)藝術(shù)家一樣，只講究形式，沒有什么誠意可言。”他走進(jìn)房間，躺在床上，不一會兒就進(jìn)入了夢鄉(xiāng)。
And when the Moon shone in the heavens, the Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long she sang with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper into her breast, and her life-blood ebbed away from her.
當(dāng)月亮升上了天空時，夜鶯朝那棵紅玫瑰樹飛去并用胸膛頂住了刺。她就這樣唱了整整一夜，連冰涼如水晶的月亮也俯下身來傾聽。整整一夜，她唱個不停，刺在她的胸口上越扎越深，她體內(nèi)的鮮血也快要流光了。
She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song.
她先歌唱男孩和女孩心中的愛意初萌。玫瑰樹頂端的枝頭上開出了一朵奇妙的玫瑰花，歌兒唱了一首又一首，花瓣也一片接一片地綻開了。
But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to pierce closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come before the rose is finished."
然而這時樹兒大聲地叫，讓夜鶯把剌頂?shù)迷倬o一些。“頂?shù)镁o點(diǎn)，小夜鸞，”樹大叫道，“要不然玫瑰花還未完成，天就要亮了。”
So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a maid.
于是夜鶯把刺頂?shù)酶o了，她的歌聲也越來越響亮了，因為她歌唱著一對成年男女內(nèi)心誕生的激情。
And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride.
一抹淡淡的紅暈爬上了玫瑰花瓣，就跟新郎親吻新娘時臉上泛起的紅暈一樣。
