English Original
A cobbler passed his time in singing from morning till night; it was wonderful to see, wonderful to hear him. He was more contented than any of the seven sages. His neighbor, on the contrary, who was rolling in wealth, sang but little and slept less. He was a banker; when by chance he fell into a doze at daybreak, the cobbler awoke him with his song.
The banker complained sadly that Providence had not made sleep a saleable commodity, like food or drink. Having at length sent for the songster, he said to him, "How much a year do you earn, Master Gregory?"
"How much a year, sir?" said the merry cobbler, laughing. "I never reckon in that way, living as I do from one day to another. Somehow I manage to reach the end of the year; each day brings its meal."
"Well then! How much a day do you earn, my friend?"
"Sometimes more, sometimes less," replied the cobbler. "But the worst of it is that a number of days occur in the year on which we are forbidden to work; and the priest is constantly adding some new saint to the list."
The banker, laughing at his simplicity, said, "In the future I shall place you above want. Take these hundred crowns, preserve them carefully, and make use of them in time of need."
The cobbler fancied he beheld all the wealth which the earth had produced. Returning home, he buried his money and his happiness at the same time. No more singing; he lost his voice the moment he acquired that which is the source of so much grief. Sleep quitted his dwelling; and cares, suspicions, and false alarms took its place. All day, his eye wandered in the direction of his treasure; and at night, if some stray cat made a noise, he thought the cat was robbing him.
At length the poor man ran to the house of his rich neighbor. "Give me back," said he, "my sleep and my voice, and take your hundred crowns."
中文翻译
一位鞋匠从早到晚都在唱歌，看他、听他唱歌都令人愉悦。他比任何一位圣贤都更满足。相反，他那位富有的邻居却很少唱歌，睡眠更少。他是个银行家；偶尔在黎明时分打盹时，鞋匠的歌声就会把他吵醒。
银行家悲哀地抱怨，上天没有让睡眠像食物或饮料一样成为可售卖的商品。他终于派人叫来了这位歌手，问他：“格雷戈里师傅，你一年挣多少钱？”
“一年挣多少，先生？”快乐的鞋匠笑着说，“我从不那样计算，我过着有一天算一天的日子。不知怎的，我总能熬到年底；每天都有饭吃。”
“那么，朋友，你一天挣多少钱呢？”
“有时多，有时少，”鞋匠回答，“但最糟糕的是，一年中有许多日子我们被禁止工作；而且神父还在不断地往名单里添加新的圣徒。”
银行家笑他单纯，说道：“将来我会让你不再匮乏。拿着这一百克朗，小心保管，需要时再用。”
鞋匠觉得自己仿佛看到了大地在过去一个世纪为人类生产的所有财富。回到家，他把钱埋起来，同时也埋葬了自己的快乐。他不再唱歌；就在得到这笔带来无尽烦恼的财富的那一刻，他失去了歌声。睡眠离开了他家；取而代之的是忧虑、猜疑和虚惊。整天，他的眼睛都瞟向藏宝的方向；晚上，如果有迷路的猫弄出点声响，他就以为是猫在偷他的钱。
最后，这个可怜的人跑到他富邻居家里。“还给我吧，”他说，“把我的睡眠和歌声还给我，把你的那一百克朗拿回去。”