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The Happy Prince

Oscar Wilde

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"but love is not fashionable anymore, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once--But it is no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past."
"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?"
Sayfa 8
Reklam
‘I am glad there is someone in the world who is quite happy.’ Muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women
Sayfa 7
58 syf.
10/10 puan verdi
Oscar Wilde'ın kendi çocukları da dahil dünya çocukları için yazdığı masallardan biridir Mutlu Prens. Masal veya çocuk hikayesi olarak değerlendirmek ne derecede doğru bilmiyorum. İnsan ve toplum eleştirisi, dünya gerçekleri barındıran bir hikaye. Okuyun, çocuklara da okuyun ya da çocuklar yüksek sesle okusun...
The Happy Prince
The Happy PrinceOscar Wilde · Karbon Kitaplar Yayınları · 201823,2bin okunma
Reklam
Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all."
"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your heart's-blood. You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your life-blood must flow into my veins, and become mine." "Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chairot of gold, and the Moon in her chairot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on the hill. Yet Love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?"
Then all that was left of him was the stick, and this fell down on the back of a Goose who was taking a walk by the side of the ditch. "Good heavens!" cried the Goose. "It is going to rain sticks"; and she rushed into the water. "I knew I should create a great sensation," gasped the Rocket, and he went out.
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