少年维特的烦恼 英文版 The Sorrows of Young Werther
歌德 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
SEPTEMBER 15.
It makes me wretched, Wilhelm, to think that there should be menincapable of appreciating the few things which possess a real valuein life. You remember the walnut trees at S--, under which I usedto sit with Charlotte, during my visits to the worthy old vicar.Those glorious trees, the very sight of which has so often filledmy heart with joy, how they adorned and refreshed the parsonageyard, with their wide-extended branches! and how pleasing was ourremembrance of the good old pastor, by whose hands they wereplanted so many years ago: The schoolmaster has frequently mentionedhis name. He had it from his grandfather. He must have been amost excellent man; and, under the shade of those old trees, hismemory was ever venerated by me. The schoolmaster informed usyesterday, with tears in his eyes, that those trees had been felled.Yes, cut to the ground! I could, in my wrath, have slain themonster who struck the first stroke. And I must endure this! --I, who, if I had had two such trees in my own court, and one haddied from old age, should have wept with real affliction. Butthere is some comfort left, such a thing is sentiment, the wholevillage murmurs at the misfortune; and I hope the vicar's wifewill soon find, by the cessation of the villagers' presents, howmuch she has wounded the feelings of the neighborhhood. It wasshe who did it, the wife of the present incumbent (our good oldman is dead), a tall, sickly creature who is so far right todisregard the world, as the world totally disregards her. Thesilly being affects to be learned, pretends to examine the canonicalbooks, lends her aid toward the new-fashioned reformation ofChristendom, moral and critical, and shrugs up her shoulders atthe mention of Lavater's enthusiasm. Her health is destroyed, onaccount of which she is prevented from having any enjoyment herebelow. Only such a creature could have cut down my walnut trees!I can never pardon it. Hear her reasons. The falling leaves madethe court wet and dirty; the branches obstructed the light; boysthrew stones at the nuts when they were ripe, and the noise affectedher nerves; and disturbed her profound meditations, when she wasweighing the difficulties of Kennicot, Semler, and Michaelis.Finding that all the parish, particularly the old people, weredispleased, I asked "why they allowed it?" "Ah, sir!" they replied,"when the steward orders, what can we poor peasants do?" But onething has happened well. The steward and the vicar (who, for once,thought to reap some advantage from the caprices of his wife)intended to divide the trees between them. The revenue-office,being informed of it, revived an old claim to the ground where thetrees had stood, and sold them to the best bidder. There theystill lie on the ground. If I were the sovereign, I should knowhow to deal with them all, vicar, steward, and revenue-office.Sovereign, did I say? I should, in that case, care little aboutthe trees that grew in the country.