The story of Waldemar Doyle and his daughters told by the wind 1 whoo! It was scraped! This is the chorus part of the song it sings.
There is an ancient Zhuangzi on the edge of the Great Strait. The bricks on the Zhuang wall are red and big! The wind said, I am familiar with every brick and stone. I have seen it before when it was built on the stockade of Mussti (2) on the Cape of Good Hope. It must be taken down! Bricks and stones built a new wall, a new Zhuangzi, and that is the Polbi Farm, which is still there.
I have met the noble gentlemen, ladies and their descendants who live in it, and I know them. Now, let me talk about Waldemar Doe and his daughters.
He is arrogant and arrogant. He is of royal blood! He not only knows how to hunt deer, but also knows how to drink up a bottle of wine. There will always be a way, he said.
His wife, wearing a robe with a gold border, stood upright and paced back and forth on the shiny parquet floor. The tapestry is gorgeous, the furniture is bought at a high price, and many exquisite flowers are carved. She brought gold and silver as a dowry; There are many things hidden in the cellar, as well as German beer. The brave black horse hissed in the stable; Boorby Manor is rich in treasures and rich people are everywhere. There are children, three charming girls, Dai Yi, johanna and Anna Dorsia; I even remember the name.
They are rich, stylish people, born in wealth, longer than wealth! Hoo hoo! It was scraped! The wind said, and then began to speak.
Unlike what I often see in other ancient gardens, ladies sit in the hall and spin spinning wheels with maids. Here, she plays the flute, her voice is crisp and she is singing. But not always Danish old songs, but some foreign songs. There is a rich life and hospitable atmosphere here; There are many guests visiting from far and near, with the sound of music and the sound of wine bottles hitting; I can't even cover up these voices! The wind said. There is a kind of arrogance and extravagance, a master style, but there is no god!
It was the eve of Waburg Gith Festival (5), Feng said. I came from the west and saw some ships wrecked on the west coast of jutland. I flew over the wasteland and the blue ocean; Flying over Maine, crossing the big channel, panting.
Later, I stopped near Polby Zhuangzi on the coast of Ceylon Island, where there was a lovely oak forest.
Young people in that area go there to pick up the thickest and driest branches. They took the branches to the city, piled them up and lit them. Girls and boys sang and danced around the fire.
I lay quietly, the wind said, but I gently touched a branch, which was put on by that beautiful young man; His firewood was lit and the flame flew high. He was chosen, won the honorary title, became a fat boy in the street, and was the first street lamb among girls to choose him. There is a kind of joy, a kind of happiness, more than Fubohr finished reading Zhuangzi.
The noble woman and her three daughters sailed into Zhuangzi in a shiny six-horse carriage. Three girls are beautiful and young, just like three beautiful flowers: rose, lily and hyacinthus orientalis; Mother herself is an arrogant tulip. A group of people stopped the game and bowed, but she didn't say hello to anyone, which made people feel that she was a stiff flower on a flower pole.
Rose, Lily and Pale hyacinthus orientalis, yes, I saw them three! I want to know whose wandering sheep they will be; Their street fat people will be proud knights or princes! call out
The story of Waldemar Doyle and his daughters told in the wind! It was scraped! It was scraped!
Yes, the car took them away and the farmers were dancing. Polby, Teby and all the nearby towns are celebrating summer.
But at night, when I got up, the wind said, the noble lady lay down and never got up again. What happened to her, like what happened to everyone, is not new. Waldemar Doyle stood gravely and pondered for a while; The proudest tree can bend, but it can't, he thought to himself. The daughters were crying, and everyone in the village was wiping their eyes, but Mrs. Doyle died, so I brushed over! Hoo hoo! The wind said.
I'm here again. I often go back and forth, scraping the land on Fine Island, scraping the surface of the Grand Channel, resting on the beach in Boorby and resting on the other side of the huge oak forest; Seahawks, turtledoves, blue crows and even black storks all nest here. It's early spring, some have just laid eggs, and some have hatched babies. God, watch them fly and listen to them cry! The sound of axe chopping came and went. The trees in the forest are going to be cut down. Waldemar Doyle wants to build an expensive ship, a warship with three decks. The king of this ship, ⑦, must buy it, and because of this, the Woods, sailors' beacons and bird shelters have all been cut down. The shrike was scared away and its nest was destroyed; Fishing eagles and other woodbirds have lost their homes. They fly everywhere. Fear and anger keep them barking. I know them very well. The crow and the western Western jackdaw derisively cried, "Leave the nest!" ! Run away from the nest "Run!" In the middle of the forest, among the workers, Waldemar Doyle and his three daughters were there, laughing at the birds; But his little daughter Anna Dostoevsky felt very sad; People want to cut down a half-dead tree, and there is a black stork's nest on the bare branch, and then the little stork sticks out her head, and she intercedes with tears in her eyes. So the tree was finally left, guarding the nest of the black stork. This is just a piece of cake.
After cutting and sawing, a ship with three decks was built. The architect himself is humble but handsome; Eyes and forehead tell people how smart he is. Waldemar Doyle is very willing to listen to him, and so is her 15-year-old daughter Edie. While building a ship for his father, he built a castle in the air for himself, dreaming that he and little Edie would become husband and wife and live in it. If this pavilion has a solid masonry foundation, a protective river, a protective embankment, trees and gardens, it will also become a reality. But despite his talent, he is just a poor bird. What do sparrows do in the crane dance? Hoo hoo! I flew away, and so did he. He can't stay. Little Edie restrained her feelings. She had to suppress her feelings.
The black horse in the stable is braying. These horses are worth seeing, and they are full of people. The king himself sent an admiral to inspect the new warship and discuss the purchase. He praised the horses loudly. I can hear your voice clearly, said the wind. I followed the gentlemen into the open stable door and blew the grass behind them like gold bars. Waldemar Doyle wanted gold and the Admiral wanted those dark horses, so he praised them. But I didn't understand the meaning, so the boat was not sold. It lay on the beach, shining, covered with boards, and became a Noah's Ark that never went into the water. Hoo hoo! It was scraped! It was scraped! It's pathetic.
In winter, the fields are covered with snow, and the large passages are full of floating ice. I blew the ice to the shore, and the wind said that ravens and crows came in groups, one darker than the other. They boarded the uninhabited, lifeless and lonely boats on the beach, singing with terrible voices for the Woods that no longer exist, for many abandoned precious nests, and for homeless birds; It's all because of that pile of wood, that proud ship that will never go into the water.
I blow the snow all over the sky; Snowflakes piled up around the ship like an ocean and swept in! I let it hear my voice and listen to what the storm has to say. I know, I'm trying to let it know something about ships. Hoo hoo! It was scraped!
The Wind tells the story of Waldemar Doyle and his daughters. Winter has passed, and winter and summer run together like I am in a Mercedes-Benz, flying together like snowflakes, apple blossoms and leaves. It was scraped! It was scraped! It was scraped! Even people!
However, the daughters are still young, and little Edie is as beautiful as a rose, just as the shipbuilding architect saw. She stood thoughtfully by the apple tree in the garden, unaware that I had blown the apple blossom into her hair. She stared at the red sun and looked at the golden sky between the black bushes and trees in the garden. At such times, I often hold her long brown hair.
Her sister johanna is like a lily, radiant and proud; Like her mother, she seems to grow on a simple flower pole, with her head held high and her waist erect. She likes to walk into the hall with portraits of her ancestors; In those paintings, ladies wear velvet, their hair tied in a bun and small hats inlaid with jewels; All beautiful ladies! Their husbands all wear armor, or coats made of squirrel skin with blue collars; The sword hangs beside the thigh, not around the waist. Where will John's portrait hang on the wall? What is a noble husband like? Yes, she was thinking about it. She was whispering about it. When I scraped along the long corridor to the hall and scraped it out again, I heard it.
Anna Dostoevsky, pale in the East of hyacinthus orientalis, is only a child of 14 years old, very quiet and thoughtful; There was a thoughtful look in her dark blue eyes, but a childish smile hung around her mouth. I can't blow this smile away and I don't want to blow it away.
I met her in the garden, on the open road and in the farmland. She is picking all kinds of flowers and plants, and she knows that her father can use these flowers and plants to steam out drinks and medicines. Waldemar Doyle is a very arrogant man, but he is knowledgeable and knows a lot. Everyone has noticed this and is talking in private. His stove is always lit in summer, and the door of that room is always closed, so many days and nights have passed. But he doesn't talk much about it. Consulting the forces of nature can only be done quietly, and it won't be long before he can find the best thing, red gold.
Therefore, the stove always smokes and always burns; Yes, I know! The wind said, burn it! Burn it! I sing through the chimney. Only smoke, thick smoke, boiling ash and ash are left for you! You burned yourself! Hoo hoo! It was scraped! It was scraped! But Valdima will not stop.
Where are the good horses in the stable? Treasure, gold and silver utensils, cattle in the field, real estate, what about Zhuangzi? Yes, everything will melt, it will melt in the gold crucible, but there is no gold.
In the granary, the pantry is empty, and the cellar and storeroom are empty, with few people and a large group of mice. A piece of glass in the east is broken and a piece of glass in the west is cracked. I don't need to go in through the door. The wind says that where the chimney smokes, it is cooking; The chimney here also smokes, and it swallows all the rice for the sake of red gold. I blew in through the gate of Zhuangzi, like a guard blowing a horn, but there were no guards. The wind said, I blew the chicken on the roof and made a whistling sound, just like a guard snoring on the top of the tower, but there was no guard; Rats are everywhere. Poor stay at the table, poor stay in the closet, poor stay in the pantry. The broken leaves of the door have fallen off and cracks are everywhere. The wind said, I go in and out everywhere because I know everything. In the smoke and ashes, in the sleepless night, the beard and hair turned gray, the skin became rough and yellow, and his eyes still greedily loved gold, the gold he longed for.
I blew the dust off his face and beard; I was in debt when I didn't get the gold. I sang songs, blew through the broken glass windows and cracks, and blew into the folding wooden beds of my daughters. The bedding on that bed is faded and worn, so they have to use it all the time. This song is not for babies in the cradle! A luxurious life has turned into a poor life! I'm the only one singing loudly in Zhuangzi! The wind said, I used snow to keep them warm in the house. It says that they have stopped chopping wood, the forest has been cut down by them, and there is no place to collect firewood. The weather is extremely cold; I have scraped windows, scraped walkways, scraped triangular walls, scraped house walls, and walked around to stay comfortable. Because of the cold, noble daughters lie in the house; Father curled up under the leather mattress. No food, no burning, this is a luxurious life! Hoo hoo! It was scraped! But Mr Doyle can't!
"After winter is spring," he said, "after poverty is a good time; However, the good times have to wait, wait! Now that Zhuangzi has mortgaged it, ⑿, it has become a dead letter. Now is the worst time, and then gold comes! Until Easter! '
I heard him muttering to the cobweb, "you hardworking little weaver!" You taught me to persevere. You always start from scratch and then finish knitting! It's broken again Don't hesitate to do it again, from the beginning! Start from the beginning! This is what a person should do and it will pay off! "
The Story of Waldemar Doyle and His Daughters in The Wind On Easter morning, the bell rang and the sun was playing in the air. He stays up all night like a fever, burning, cooling, stirring and distilling. I heard him sigh like a lost soul, I heard him praying, and I felt him hold his breath. The lamp had burned out and he didn't notice it; I blew out the flame of charcoal, and the fire shone on his chalk face, leaving a faint trace on his face. His eyes used to be deep in the eye socket, but now they are big and seem to pop out.
Look at that alchemy glass cup! There's light in there! Very red, very pure, very weighty! He lifted it with trembling hands and shouted in a trembling voice, "Gold! Gold! He was dizzy and I almost knocked him down. The wind said, but I just scraped off the burning charcoal and followed him through the door to the room where his daughters were shivering with cold. His robe was covered with charcoal ash, and so was his beard and unkempt hair. He held his head high and straightened his chest, holding the fragile glass cup with precious treasures in his hand:' Success! Victory! Gold! He shouted, holding the cup high, and the cup sparkled in the sun; His hands are shaking. The golden cup fell to the ground and broke into thousands of small pieces: the last bubble of his happy life burst. Hoo hoo! It was scraped! I scraped it off the Zhuangzi in this gold smelter.
At the end of the year, the days are shortened here, and the cold dew forms small drops and falls on red berries and bare branches. I'm glad to be back. I blew all the way, and the branches were broken in the clear sky. This is not a big project, but it should be done. In Polbi, in the manor of Waldmar Doe, another kind of cleaning was carried out. His opponent, Hoffeurt Lamaire of Bassenas, came with a contract to buy Zhuangzi and everything in it. I bumped into the broken glass window, knocked on the peeling door and shouted between the cracks: Mr. Orff should not be happy to live here. Edie and Anna Dostoevsky cried, and they shed sad tears. Johanna stood there stiffly, pale. She bit her thumb and bit out blood, which did her a lot of good! Overto Lamel promised to let Mr. Doe spend the rest of his life in Zhuangzi, but he was not appreciated for it. I'm listening; I saw the gentleman who lost Zhuangzi hold his head high, more proud than usual, and straighten his neck. I suddenly scraped off the thickest branch in Zhuangzi and an old linden tree, and it didn't rot. It fell in front of the door like a broom. If someone wants to clean it, it will be really cleaned soon. I think it should be like this. It's been a hard day, and it's hard to stick to it. But strong spirit and hard bones.
They have nothing but clothes; Yes, the newly bought gold cup is full of those scraps scraped off the ground; Cherish, promise, but never realize. Waldemar Doyle hid the golden cup in his chest with a cane in his hand. The once-very-rich gentleman walked out of Polby Zhuangzi with his three daughters. I blew a cold air on his hot cheek, and I patted his gray beard and long white hair. I tried my best to sing: hoo! It was scraped! It was scraped! That magnificent beauty is over!
Dai Yi and Anna Dostoevsky walked beside him, and johanna turned around at the gate of Zhuangzi. What's the use? Happiness will never return. She looked at the red bricks on the wall moved from Musk Stier's stockade and thought of his daughters:
Sister holds sister's hand,
Walk blankly to the end of the world!
Is she thinking about this song? The three of them are here and their fathers are together! They walked along the road where they rode in a carriage. They are a group of beggars who followed their father to the Smiths' fields and mud houses rented at the price of ten marks a year. Their new building has empty walls and rooms. A crow and western Western jackdaw flew around on it, crying as if laughing:' Get out of the nest! Get out of the nest! Run! "Run!" Birds were singing when Polby's tree was cut down.
Mr Doyle and his daughter certainly felt it; I blew into their ears, and these calls were not worth listening to at all.
The wind tells the story of Waldemar Doyle and his daughters. Then they entered the mud house in the Smithsonian Garden. I flew away, through swamps and fields, through bare green bushes and trees covered with fallen leaves, to the sea of Wang Yang and a foreign land. Hoo hoo! Scrape it over! Scrape it over! Scrape every year.
How's Waldemar? What about his daughters? The wind said:
The last thing I saw, yes, the last time, was Anna Dostoevsky, pale hyacinthus orientalis. Now she is very old and hunched. Fifty years have passed. She lived the longest. She knows everything.
On the overgrown wasteland near the city of Vyborg, the new and decent manor of the pastor of the main church was built there. The walls are red bricks with serrated triangular walls; Smoke rose from the chimney. Gentle lady and beautiful daughter sit in front of the French window, looking at the Chinese wolfberry and brown wasteland hanging in the garden. What are they looking at? They are looking at the stork nest on a house that is about to collapse. The roof of that house, if there is a roof there, is just a pile of moss and hidden lotus flowers. The most tightly covered roof is where the stork nest is located. This is the only useful thing, but the stork keeps it alive.
That is a room for people to see, not to touch; The wind said: I must be careful. It is because of the stork nest that the house can be preserved. Otherwise it's scary enough in the wilderness. The priest of the main church didn't want to drive away the storks, so this shack was preserved, and the evil people in it lived there. She should thank the Egyptian bird, or rather the past. Because she once courted her brother's nest in Bolby. At that time, she was a child, a beautiful pale hyacinthus orientalis in a noble garden. She clearly remembers all this: Anna Dostoevsky.
Ah! Ah! Yes, people will sigh, just as the wind sighs in the grass and reeds. Ah! When you were buried, there was no church bell for you, Valdema Doyle! When the former owner of Polby Zhuangzi collapsed, poor students and children didn't come to sing hymns [13]! Everything has an end, and so does poverty! Sister Dai Yi became a farmer's wife; This is the most severe test for our father! My daughter's husband is a poor serf, and his master can make him suffer the most severe punishment. Now he's buried, right? You too! Edie. Ah, yes! It's not over yet, I'm a poor old woman; I am a poor man! Release me, merciful God!
This is Anna Dostoevsky's prayer in a dilapidated house that was not knocked down by storks.
The wind said, "I took my best sister." . She cut out all the clothes she wanted to wear! She pretended to be a poor young man and was hired to work on a ship. She seldom talks and doesn't show her heart, but she is willing to do her job, but she can't climb the mast; So, before people found out that she was a woman, I blew her into the sea, which may be a good thing I did, Feng said.
One Easter morning, just like the Easter morning when Waldemar Doe thought he had extracted pure gold, I heard a hymn, Anna Dostoevsky's last song, between the falling walls and under the stork's nest. Without windows, the wall is just a hole; The sun rises like a golden ball and shoots light into it; How bright it is! Her eyes are broken and her heart is broken! Even if the sun didn't shine on her this morning, they would be broken.
The story of Waldemar Doyle and his daughters told in the wind 6 "The stork made a roof for her until she died! I sing at her grave! " The wind said, "I sang at her father's grave." I know, I know where her father's grave is and where her grave is. No one knows except me.
"A new era, another era! The ancient road was built by private fields, and the peaceful grave became a avenue; Before long, the steam engine will lead a long line of trucks through this place that used to be a graveyard, and all the names will be forgotten. Whoo! Scraped! " This is the story of Waldemar Doe and his daughter. If possible, please all of you speak better! "The wind said, turn around! The wind has gone.
(1) the channel between Ceylon and Maine, Denmark.
(2) this story about the stockade is true, just near Buerbicheng now. According to research, the stockade was built by a knight named Stie.
(3) Ceylon scales a landlord manor in Kenan. It was built by Danish Prime Minister John Fries (1494— 1570) in 1556.
(4) Waldemar Doe (1616-1691) is a Danish aristocrat. 1652, he and one of his brothers inherited Boorby Manor. 1645, he married Elser Kuruther, and they had 13 children. But only 1 son and three daughters have grown up. Anna Dorcia, one of the three daughters mentioned in this article, has no such person. Dostoevsky's fate in the story really belongs to Edie.
⑤ In Denmark, May 1 Sunday is Warburg Gith Festival to commemorate a British princess named Warburg Gith. The princess became a nun and saint in Schwaben, Germany.
6. This was a custom in jutland in the past. When summer comes, young men and women in the city light bonfires in the streets. They chose a richer young man to host the party, that is, the fat boy in the street. He assigned street girls to young people attending the party. However, there is no such custom in Ceylon.
⑦ refers to Frederick II (1609-1670).
A bird with a strong and pointed beak feeds on large insects, frogs, lizards or small birds and animals.
If you build a nest in a tree, it is usually in a half-dead tree.
Attending the ship "Demigny Horst" has never been launched, because Dole refused to bribe the Admiral. But Frederick II did pay 4000 gold coins for it.
⑾ See note 18 for the picture book without pictures.
⑿ Doe began to live a miserable life from 1670. 168 1, he had to pawn Boorby Manor to a senior official of Ofo Lamaire. The senior official promised Doyle to live in Polby Manor for free for life, but Doyle didn't accept it.
(13) At that time, church choir students earned some money by singing hymns at religious ceremonies. Therefore, if there is no money to pay for the choir, there will be no choir to carry out religious activities. This shows everyone's social status.
14. When Danish serfdom existed, serfs were punished by riding a wooden horse. The Trojan horse is a wooden frame. The punished man rode on a Trojan horse with heavy things hanging from his feet. That's how punished people sometimes die on wooden horses.
⒂ 1847 A railway was built between Copenhagen and Roskill. In the following 10 years, Danish trains developed rapidly.