English Original
Near the grass-covered rampart which encircles Copenhagen lies a great red house. Balsams and other flowers greet us from the long rows of windows in the house, whose interior is sufficiently poverty-stricken; and poor and old are the people who inhabit it. The building is the Warton Almshouse.
Look! At the window there leans an old maid. She plucks the withered leaf from the balsam, and looks at the grass-covered rampart, on which many children are playing. What is the old maid thinking of? A whole life drama is unfolding itself before her inward gaze.
"The poor little children, how happy they are—how merrily they play and romp together! What red cheeks and what angels' eyes! But they have no shoes nor stockings. They dance on the green rampart, just on the place where, according to the old story, the ground always sank in, and where a sportive, frolicsome child had been lured by means of flowers, toys and sweetmeats into an open grave ready dug for it, and which was afterwards closed over the child; and from that moment, the old story says, the ground gave way no longer, the mound remained firm and fast, and was quickly covered with the green turf. The little people who now play on that spot know nothing of the old tale, else would they fancy they heard a child crying deep below the earth, and the dewdrops on each blade of grass would be to them tears of woe. Nor do they know anything of the Danish King who here, in the face of the coming foe, took an oath before all his trembling courtiers that he would hold out with the citizens of his capital, and die here in his nest; they know nothing of the men who have fought here, or of the women who from here have drenched with boiling water the enemy, clad in white, and 'biding in the snow to surprise the city.
"No! The poor little ones are playing with light, childish spirits. Play on, play on, thou little maiden! Soon the years will come—yes, those glorious years. The priestly hands have been laid on the candidates for confirmation; hand in hand they walk on the green rampart. Thou hast a white frock on; it has cost thy mother much labor, and yet it is only cut down for thee out of an old larger dress! You will also wear a red shawl; and what if it hang too far down? People will only see how large, how very large it is. You are thinking of your dress, and of the Giver of all good—so glorious is it to wander on the green rampart!
"And the years roll by; they have no lack of dark days, but you have your cheerful young spirit, and you have gained a friend—you know not how. You met, oh, how often! You walk together on the rampart in the fresh spring, on the high days and holidays, when all the world come out to walk upon the ramparts, and all the bells of the church steeples seem to be singing a song of praise for the coming spring.
"Scarcely have the violets come forth, but there on the rampart, just opposite the beautiful Castle of Rosenberg, there is a tree bright with the first green buds. Every year this tree sends forth fresh green shoots. Alas! It is not so with the human heart! Dark mists, more in number than those that cover the northern skies, cloud the human heart. Poor child! Thy friend's bridal chamber is a black coffin, and thou becomest an old maid. From the almshouse window, behind the balsams, thou shalt look on the merry children at play, and shalt see thine own history renewed."
And that is the life drama that passes before the old maid while she looks out upon the rampart, the green, sunny rampart, where the children, with their red cheeks and bare shoeless feet, are rejoicing merrily, like the other free little birds.
中文翻译
在环绕哥本哈根的绿草覆盖的城墙附近，矗立着一座巨大的红房子。凤仙花和其他花朵从房子长长的窗户里向我们致意，而房子的内部却相当贫困；居住其中的人们贫穷而年迈。这座建筑就是沃顿济贫院。
看！窗边倚着一位老小姐。她从凤仙花上摘下一片枯叶，望向绿草如茵的城墙，那里有许多孩子在玩耍。这位老小姐在想什么呢？一出完整的人生戏剧正在她内心的凝视下展开。
“这些可怜的小家伙，他们是多么快乐啊——在一起玩闹得多么开心！多么红润的脸颊，多么天使般的眼睛！可是他们没有鞋袜。他们在绿色的城墙上跳舞，就在那个根据古老传说地面总是会塌陷的地方，一个活泼好动的孩子曾被鲜花、玩具和糖果引诱进一个为他挖好的敞开的坟墓，随后坟墓在孩子身上合拢；从那一刻起，传说中说，地面不再塌陷，土丘变得坚固结实，并迅速被绿草覆盖。如今在那片土地上玩耍的小人们对此古老传说一无所知，否则他们会幻想自己听到了地下深处孩子的哭声，草叶上的每一滴露珠对他们而言都将是悲伤的泪水。他们也不知道那位丹麦国王的故事，他曾在这里，面对即将到来的敌人，在所有颤抖的朝臣面前发誓，他将与首都的市民坚守到底，并死在他的‘巢穴’里；他们不知道曾在这里战斗过的男人们，也不知道曾从这里用沸水浇淋那些身着白衣、潜伏在雪中意图突袭城市的敌人的女人们。
“不！这些可怜的小家伙正怀着轻松、童真的心情玩耍。玩吧，继续玩吧，你这小姑娘！岁月很快就会到来——是的，那些辉煌的岁月。神职人员的手已按在即将受坚信礼的候选人头上；他们手拉手走在绿色的城墙上。你穿着一件白色连衣裙；它花了你母亲很多功夫，然而它只是用一件更大的旧衣服为你改小的！你还会披一条红披肩；即使它垂得太长又有什么关系呢？人们只会看到它有多大，多么大啊。你想着你的衣裳，想着一切美好事物的赐予者——漫步在绿色的城墙上，是多么美妙啊！
“岁月流逝；不乏阴暗的日子，但你拥有欢快的年轻心灵，并且你获得了一位朋友——你不知是如何获得的。你们相遇了，哦，多么频繁！你们在清新的春天，在节日和假日里，一起在城墙上散步，那时全世界的人都出来在城墙上漫步，所有教堂尖塔的钟声似乎都在为即将到来的春天唱一首赞歌。
“紫罗兰刚刚绽放，但在城墙上，就在美丽的罗森堡城堡对面，有一棵树闪耀着初生的绿芽。每年这棵树都会发出新鲜的绿枝。唉！人心却非如此！比笼罩北方天空的乌云还要多的黑暗迷雾，笼罩着人心。可怜的孩子！你朋友的婚房竟是一具黑色的棺材，而你则变成了一位老小姐。从济贫院的窗户，在凤仙花后面，你将看着快乐的孩子们玩耍，并将看到你自己的历史重演。”
这就是当老小姐望向城墙时，在她眼前掠过的人生戏剧。那绿色的、阳光明媚的城墙上，孩子们红润的脸颊和光着的脚丫，正像其他自由的小鸟一样欢快地嬉戏。