But before she could even finish, Ole vanished from sight. He blended in with the other leaves on the ground, and Trufa was left all alone on the tree.
只要天还没黑,特鲁法不管怎样还能设法忍受悲痛。可是天渐渐黑冷下来,并开始下起刺骨的雨,她绝望了。不知怎么地她觉得所有树叶不幸的责任要怪树,要怪长有巨大树枝的树干。树叶掉了,而树干仍旧高大牢固地扎根在大地上,没有风雨或冰雹能掀翻它。这些对树有什么要紧呢,它有可能永远存活下去,可是成为一片树叶呢?在特鲁法看来,树干就像上帝,它用树叶覆盖自己几个月,然后又抖落它们;在树干高兴的时候就用树的汁液滋养树叶,而后又渴死它们。特鲁法请求树把奥立还给她,让夏天再一次来临,可是树没有注意到它的祈求。
So long as it was still day, Trufa managed somehow to endure her grief. But when it grew dark and cold and a piercing rain began to fall, she sank into despair. Somehow she felt that the blame for all the leafy misfortunes lay with the tree, the trunk with all its mighty limbs. Leaves fell, but the trunk stood tall, thick and firmly rooted in the ground. No wind, rain or hail could upset it. What did it matter to a tree, which probably lived forever, what become of a leaf? To Trufa, the trunk was a kind of god. It covered itself with leaves for a few months, then it shook them off. It nourished them with its sap for as long as it pleased, then it let them die of thirst. Trufa pleaded with the tree to give her back her Ole, to make it summer again, but the tree didn’t heed her prayers.
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