簡(jiǎn)單英語(yǔ)小故事兩分鐘：鳳凰

In the garden of heaven, under the knowledge tree, there is a rose. Here, the first rose to give birth to a bird. It flies like a flash. Its color is gorgeous, it's beautiful. But when Eve to pick the fruit of that piece of knowledge, when she and Adam was ejected from the paradise garden, a Mars from avenging angel fire sword fell on the bird's nest to, burn it up. A bird in the fire burned to death. But from the red egg in the nest there flying out of a new bird -- the world's only phoenix. The myth says that the Phoenix lives in Arabia; it burned itself in the nest every one hundred years. But every time there is a new Phoenix - the only Phoenix in the world - to fly from the red egg. The bird is flying around us, it is like lightning fast; its color is very beautiful, it is very sweet. When the mother was sitting in her child's cradle, she stood on the pillow, and took her wings and formed a circle on the child's head. It flew over the simple room. There is a light in the sun, and the fragrance of the violet flowers on the table. But Phoenix is more than just a bird in Arabia. In the aurora borealis micro Xi over Lapland frozen wilderness; it in short Greenland in the summer, in the middle of the yellow through. In Tongshan Faron, in Britain's coal mines, it as a whole body full dust moth, spread out in the pious miner knee of the "Bible" on the fly. It was a piece of lotus leaf, the water to flow down to Ganges RIver. India girl's eyes see it flashed light. The phoenix! Don't you know it? The bird of heaven, the divine swan in this song! It is a talkative crow, de Spies sitting in the car, patting is covered with black wings. It with red billed swans in Iceland's harp pop sound; as Odin's Ravens sit in Shakespeare's shoulder, and in his ear low voice to say: "the immortal!" When it is in the poetry competition, over Wartburg Knight palace. The phoenix! Don't you know it? It sings "the song of the song" to you; you kiss the feathers from its wings. It is in the light of heaven to fly down; perhaps you will be at this time to open the head, to see the wings with a silver paper, sitting on the sparrow. The birds of heaven! It was born in a century, born in flames, and died in the flames! You insert a golden frame portrait hanging in the lobby of the rich, but you own is often lonely, vacant to fly. You are a myth, "Phoenix in Arabia". In the garden of heaven, you are born in the knowledge tree, in that first rose, and God gave you the right name, "poetry"".
    在天國(guó)花園里，在知識(shí)樹底下，有一叢玫瑰花。在這兒，那第一朵開出的玫瑰花生出一只鳥來(lái)。它飛起來(lái)像一道閃光。它的色彩華麗，它的歌聲美妙。
    不過(guò)當(dāng)夏娃摘下那顆知識(shí)的果子的時(shí)候，當(dāng)她和亞當(dāng)被驅(qū)出了天國(guó)花園的時(shí)候，有一顆火星從復(fù)仇天使的火劍上落到這鳥兒的巢里去，把它燒起來(lái)。鳥兒就在火中被焚死了。不過(guò)從巢里的那個(gè)火紅的蛋中飛出一只新的鳥兒——世界上的鳳凰。
    神話上面說(shuō)，這只鳳凰住在阿拉伯；它每過(guò)一百年就把自己在巢里燒死一次。不過(guò)每次總有一個(gè)新的鳳凰——世界上的鳳凰——從那個(gè)紅蛋里飛出來(lái)。
    這鳥兒在我們的周圍飛翔，快速得像閃電；它的顏色非常美麗，歌聲非常悅耳。當(dāng)母親坐在她孩子的搖籃旁的時(shí)候，它就站在枕頭上，拍著翅膀，在孩子頭上形成一個(gè)光圈。它飛過(guò)這樸素的房間。這里面有太陽(yáng)光；那張簡(jiǎn)陋的桌上發(fā)出紫羅蘭花的香氣。
    但是鳳凰不僅僅是一只阿拉伯的鳥兒。它在北極光的微曦中飛過(guò)拉普蘭的冰凍的原野；它在短暫的格陵蘭的夏天里，在黃花中間走過(guò)。在法龍②的銅山下，在英國(guó)的煤礦里，它作為一個(gè)全身布滿了灰塵的蛾子，在虔誠(chéng)的礦工膝上攤開的那本《圣經(jīng)》上面飛。它在一片荷葉上，順著恒河的圣水向下流。印度姑娘的眼睛一看到它就閃出亮光。
    這只鳳凰！你不認(rèn)識(shí)它嗎？這只天國(guó)的鳥兒，這只歌中的神圣的天鵝！它作為一個(gè)多嘴的烏鴉，坐在德斯比斯的車上，拍著粘滿了渣滓的黑翅膀。它用天鵝的紅嘴在冰島的豎琴上彈出聲音；作為奧丁的烏鴉坐在莎士比亞的肩上，同時(shí)在他耳邊低聲地說(shuō)：“不朽！”它在詩(shī)歌比賽的時(shí)候，飛過(guò)瓦特堡的騎士宮殿。
    這只鳳凰！你不認(rèn)識(shí)它嗎？它對(duì)你唱著《馬賽曲》；你吻著從它翅膀上落下的羽毛。它從天國(guó)的光輝中飛下來(lái)；也許你就在這時(shí)把頭掉開，去看那翅上帶著銀紙的、坐著的麻雀吧。
    天國(guó)的鳥兒！它每一個(gè)世紀(jì)重生一次——從火焰中出生，在火焰中死去！你的鑲著金像框的畫像懸在有錢人的大廳里，但是你自己常常是孤獨(dú)地、茫然地飛來(lái)飛去。你是一個(gè)神話——“阿拉伯的鳳凰”。
    在天國(guó)花園里，你在那知識(shí)樹下，在那第一朵玫瑰花里出生的時(shí)候，上帝吻了你，給了你一個(gè)正確的名字——“詩(shī)”。