Toothache Aunt (2)
Fairy Tales
"Good night, my sweet child!" she said loudly. "I'm going to sleep now, as if I were sleeping in my own bed!"
So she went to rest, but there was no rest inside or outside the house. The strong wind shook the windows wildly, hitting the long hanging window hooks, and then the doorbell in the neighbor's backyard rang. The tenants upstairs are back too. He took a late-night walk up and down, then threw off his boots and crawled into bed to sleep. But his snoring was so loud that people with sharp ears could hear it through the floorboards.
I can't fall asleep, I can't be still. The storm doesn't want to calm down: it's very active. The wind blew and sang in its old way; my teeth began to come alive: they blew and sang in their old way. This brings about a toothache.
A dark wind blew in from the window. The moonlight shines on the floor. As the storm clouds faded in and out, so did the moonlight. Moonlight and shadow are not quiet either. But eventually the shadow formed an object on the floor. I looked at this moving thing and felt an icy wind blowing over me.
Sitting on the floor was an elongated human figure, much like something a child would draw on a slate with a slate. A long, thin line represents the body; two lines represent the two arms, each leg is also a stroke, and the head is polygonal.
The shape immediately became clearer. It is wearing a long dress, very thin and delicate. But this shows that it belongs to women.
I heard a hissing sound. Is this her, or is it the gadfly buzzing in the crack of the window?
No, this came from herself - Mrs. Toothache! God bless her, this terrible devil queen, please don't come to visit us!
"It's nice here!" she hummed. "This is a nice place—a wet place, a mossy place! Mosquitoes buzz here with their poisonous needles; and now I have those needles. The needles require a person's teeth. Come and sharpen them. The teeth of this man who is sleeping on the bed are shining white. They are not afraid of sweetness or sourness. They are not afraid of heat or cold. But I want to shake them! Use the evil wind to pour into their roots and give them cold feet!”
This is really an appalling thing to say, and this is really a terrible guest.
"Hey, you are a poet!" she said, "I will write poems for you with painful rhythms! I will put iron and steel into your body, into your nerves Put it on!"
It was like a hot awl was drilling into my cheekbone. I was writhing in pain.
"An outstanding toothache!" she said, "It's like an organ playing music, like a magnificent harmonica ensemble, including drums, trumpets, soprano flutes and bass flutes in the wisdom teeth. Great. The poet, the great music!"
She started to play, and her appearance was terrifying - although people could only see her hands: dark and cold hands; it had long thin fingers. , and each finger is an instrument of torture and peace. There is a blade and screwdriver on the thumb and index finger; a pointed awl on the middle finger, a drill on the ring finger, and mosquito venom on the little finger.
"Let me teach you the rhythm of poetry!" she said. "A great poet should have a big toothache; a little poet should have a small toothache!"
"Ah, please let me be a little poet!" I requested. Please let me be nothing! And I'm not a poet either. I just have the pain of writing poetry, just like I have the pain of teeth. Please go away! Please go away! "
"I am more powerful than poetry, philosophy, mathematics, and all music, you know? " she said. " More powerful than any painted image or any image carved out of marble! I am older than all of this. I was born outside the kingdom of heaven - where the wind blows and toadstools grow. I asked Eve to dress me when it was cold, and so did Adam. You can believe that the initial toothache is quite powerful! "
"I believe everything! "I said. "Please go away! Please go away! "Yes, as long as you never write poetry again, never write on paper, slate, or anything that can be written on, I can relax you."
But if you write poetry again, I will come back. "
"I swear! "I said, "Please let me never see you or think of you again! "
"You will see me if you look, but it will be plumper and more affectionate than what I look like now! You will see me as Aunt Miller, and I will say, 'My dear child, make a poem. You are a great poet—perhaps the greatest of all our poets! ’ But please believe me, if you write a poem, I will set your poem to music and play it on the harmonica! You sweet child, when you see Aunt Miller, please remember me! ”
And she disappeared.
When we parted, I received a tap on my cheekbone, as if a hot awl had drilled it. However, The moment passed. I seemed to be floating on soft water; I saw the white water lilies with their broad green leaves bending and sinking beneath me, withering and disappearing. I sank with them. The silence and it are gone.
"Die, melt like the snow! "Songs and sounds came from the water," evaporate into clouds and float away like clouds! ”
The great and illustrious names, the waving flag of victory, and the immortal patent written on the wings of the mayfly, all reflected in the water before my eyes.
A sleep without dreams. I heard neither the whistling wind, the banging of the door, nor the sound of the tenants doing heavy gymnastics.
At this time, a gust of wind blew, and my aunt's unlocked door opened. My aunt jumped up, put on her clothes, buttoned up her shoes, and ran to me.
She said, I slept like a god. Angel, she couldn't bear to wake me up.
I woke up automatically and opened my eyes. I completely forgot that my aunt was in this room, but I remembered it immediately. The ghost of toothache. Dream and reality mixed together.
"Didn't you write anything after we said goodbye last night? " she asked.
"I hope you write something! You are my poet - you always will be! ”
I think she is smiling secretly. I don’t know if this is the good aunt who loves me, or the terrible aunt who got my promise in the night.
< p> "Dear child, do you write poetry? ""No! No! I said loudly. "Are you really Aunt Miller?" "
"What other aunt is there? " she said.
This was really Aunt Miller.
She kissed me, got into a carriage, and went home.
I What is written here is written, it is not written in verse, and it can never be printed...
The manuscript ends here.
My young friend. - The future grocer - There is no way to find the missing piece. It is missing from the world, wrapped in smoked mackerel, butter and green soap.
Wine-making. The man dies, the aunt dies, the student dies - his talents are gone in the bucket: that's the end of the story - the end of the story about the toothache aunt (1872)
This story was started in June 1870, completed on June 11, 1872, and published in the second volume of the third volume of "New Fairy Tales and Stories" published in Copenhagen in 1872. This is a symbolic story. The slightly satirical works also have a bit of "modernist" flavor. Most people can't help but have a bit of poet quality, especially the young intellectuals in their youth - such as middle school students, many of whom are self-conscious and can write. A few poems. Some people consider themselves "poets" because of this, and some naive people will give them the title of "poet" for free. This is actually a "disease". This disease requires a "toothache aunt". "It takes some minor surgery to cure it. So "Toothache Aunt" really came - in a dream, of course, and the whole thing was indeed a dream.