最后一片叶子英文

当时间让一切都归于平淡、岁月悄悄爬上额头时，是否应该让所有的坚持和激情澎湃留给昨天?如果是，生命的意义和价值又何在?下面小编为大家整理的最后一片叶子英文，希望对大家有用!

最后一片叶子英文

Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michelangelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp.Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe.He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it.For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising.He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional.He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece.For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.

…

“Vass! ”he cried.“Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing.No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead.Why do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.”

…

When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.

“Pull it up; I want to see, ”she ordered, in a whisper.

Wearily Sue obeyed.

But, look! After the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf.It was the last one on the vine.Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.

“It is the last one, ”said Johnsy.“I thought it would surely fall during the night.I heard the wind.It will fall today, and I shall die at the same time.”

…

The ivy leaf was still there.

Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it.And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.

“I've been a bad girl, Sudie, ”said Johnsy.“Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was.It is a sin to want to die.You may bring me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and—no;bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook.”

…

“I have something to tell you, white mouse, ”she said.“Mr.Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital.He was ill only two days.The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain.His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold.They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night.And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and—look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall.Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece—he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell.”

最后一片叶子

欧·亨利

老贝尔曼是住在她们这座楼房底层的一个画家。他年过六旬，有一把像米开朗琪罗的摩西雕像那样的大胡子，这胡子长在一个像半人半兽的森林之神的头颅上，又卷曲地飘拂在小鬼似的身躯上。贝尔曼是个失败的画家。他操了四十年的画笔，还远没有摸着艺术女神的衣裙。他老是说就要画他的那幅杰作了，可是直到现在他还没有动笔。几年来，他除了偶尔画点商业广告之类的玩意儿以外，什么也没有画过。他给艺术区里穷得雇不起职业模特儿的年轻画家们当模特儿，挣一点钱。他喝酒毫无节制，还时常提起他要画的那幅杰作。除此以外，他是一个火气十足的小老头子，十分瞧不起别人的温情，却认为自己是专门保护楼上画室里那两个年轻女画家的一只大看家狗。

“什么，”他喊道，“世界上真会有人蠢到因为那些该死的常春藤叶子落掉就想死?我从来没有听说过这种怪事。不，我才不当你那隐居的矿工糊涂虫的模特儿呢。你干吗让她胡思乱想?唉，可怜的琼西小姐。”

……

第二天早晨，苏只睡了一个小时的觉，醒来了，她看见琼西无神的眼睛睁得大大地注视拉下的绿窗帘。

“把窗帘拉起来，我要看看。”她低声地命令道。

苏疲倦地照办了。

然而，看呀!经过了漫长一夜的风吹雨打，在砖墙上还挂着一片藤叶。它是常春藤上最后的一片叶子了。靠近茎部仍然是深绿色，可是锯齿形的叶子边缘已经枯萎发黄，它傲然挂在一根离地二十多英尺的藤枝上。

“这是最后一片叶子，”琼西说道，“我以为它昨晚一定会落掉的。我听见风声了。今天它一定会落掉，我也会死的。”

……

那片藤叶仍然在那里。

琼西躺着对它看了许久。然后她招呼正在煤气炉上给她煮鸡汤的苏。

“我是一个坏女孩儿，苏娣，”琼西说，“天意让那片最后的藤叶留在那里来证明我是多么坏。想死是罪过的。你现在就给我拿点鸡汤来，再拿点掺葡萄酒的牛奶来，再——不，先给我一面小镜子，再把枕头垫垫高，我要坐起来看你做饭。”

……

“我有件事要告诉你，小家伙，”她说，“贝尔曼先生今天在医院里患肺炎去世了。他只病了两天。头一天早晨，守卫发现他在楼下自己那间房里痛得动弹不了。他的鞋子和衣服全都湿透了，冰凉冰凉的。他们搞不清楚在那个凄风苦雨的夜晚，他究竟到哪里去了。后来他们发现了一盏没有熄灭的灯笼，一把挪动过地方的梯子，几支扔得满地的画笔，还有一块调色板，上面涂抹着绿色和黄色的颜料，还有——亲爱的，瞧瞧窗子外面，瞧瞧墙上那最后一片藤叶。难道你没有想过，为什么风刮得那样厉害，它却从来不摇一摇，动一动呢?唉，亲爱的，这片叶子是贝尔曼的杰作——当最后一片叶子掉下来的晚上，是他把叶子画上去的。”