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双语童话阅读《老路灯》（精选11篇）
《老路灯》这个故事讲的是一个路灯的一生。是闻名世界的丹麦童话大师安徒生作品。以下是应届毕业生网小编为大家推荐的双语童话阅读《老路灯》，希望大家喜欢。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 1
the Old Street Lamp老路灯
DID you ever hear the story of the old streetlamp? It is not remarkably interesting， but for oncein a way you may as well listen to it. It was a mostrespectable old lamp， which had seen many，many years of service， and now was to retire with apension. It was this evening at its post for the lasttime， giving light to the street. His feelings weresomething like those of an old dancer at thetheatre， who is dancing for the last time， and knows that on the morrow she will be in hergarret， alone and forgotten. The lamp had very GREat anxiety about the next day， for heknew that he had to appear for the first time at the town hall， to be inspected by the mayorand the council， who were to decide if he were fit for further service or not;—whether thelamp was good enough to be used to light the inhabitants of one of the suburbs， or in thecountry， at some factory; and if not， it would be sent at once to an iron foundry， to bemelted down. In this latter case it might be turned into anything， and he wondered very muchwhether he would then be able to remember that he had once been a street lamp， and ittroubled him exceedingly. Whatever might happen， one thing seemed certain， that he wouldbe separated from the watchman and his wife， whose family he looked upon as his own. Thelamp had first been hung up on that very evening that the watchman， then a robust youngman， had entered upon the duties of his office. Ah， well， it was a very long time since onebecame a lamp and the other a watchman. His wife had a little pride in those days; she seldomcondescended to glance at the lamp， excepting when she passed by in the evening， never inthe daytime. But in later years， when all these，—the watchman， the wife， and the lamp—had grown old， she had attended to it， cleaned it， and supplied it with oil. The old peoplewere thoroughly honest， they had never cheated the lamp of a single drop of the oil providedfor it.
This was the lamps last night in the street， and to-morrow he must go to the town-hall，—two very dark things to think of. No wonder he did not burn brightly. Many other thoughtsalso passed through his mind. How many persons he had lighted on their way， and how muchhe had seen; as much， very likely， as the mayor and corporation themselves! None ofthese thoughts were uttered aloud， however; for he was a good， honorable old lamp，who would not willingly do harm to any one， especially to those in authority. As many thingswere recalled to his mind， the light would FLASH up with sudden brightness; he had， at suchmoments， a conviction that he would be remembered. “There was a handsome young manonce，” thought he; “it is certainly a long while ago， but I remember he had a little note，written on pink paper with a gold edge; the writing was elegant， evidently a ladys hand：twice he read it through， and kissed it， and then looked up at me， with eyes that said quiteplainly， I am the happiest of men! Only he and I know what was written on this his firstletter from his lady-love. Ah， yes， and there was another pair of eyes that I remember，—it isreally wonderful how the thoughts jump from one thing to another! A funeral passed throughthe street; a young and beautiful woman lay on a bier， decked with garlands of flowers， andattended by torches， which quite overpowered my light. All along the street stood the peoplefrom the houses， in crowds， ready to join the procession. But when the torches had passedfrom before me， and I could look round， I saw one person alone， standing， leaning againstmy post， and weeping. Never shall I forget the sorrowful eyes that looked up at me.” Theseand similar reflections occupied the old street lamp， on this the last time that his light wouldshine. The sentry， when he is relieved from his post， knows at least who will succeed him，and may whisper a few words to him， but the lamp did not know his successor， or he couldhave given him a few hints respecting rain， or mist， and could have informed him how farthe moons rays would rest on the pavement， and from which side the wind generally blew，and so on.
On the bridge over the canal stood three persons， who wished to recommendthemselves to the lamp， for they thought he could give the office to whomsoever he chose.The first was a herrings head， which could emit light in the darkness. He remarked that itwould be a GREat saving of oil if they placed him on the lamp-post. Number two was a piece ofrotten wood， which also shines in the dark. He considered himself descended from an oldstem， once the pride of the forest. The third was a glow-worm， and how he found his waythere the lamp could not imagine， yet there he was， and could really give light as well as theothers. But the rotten wood and the herrings head declared most solemnly， by all they heldsacred， that the glow-worm only gave light at certain times， and must not be allowed tocompete with themselves. The old lamp assured them that not one of them could givesufficient light to fill the position of a street lamp; but they would believe nothing he said. Andwhen they discovered that he had not the power of naming his successor， they said they werevery glad to hear it， for the lamp was too old and worn-out to make a proper choice.
At this moment the wind came rushing round the corner of the street， and through theair-holes of the old lamp. “What is this I hear?” said he; “that you are going away to-morrow? Is this evening the last time we shall meet? Then I must present you with a farewellgift. I will blow into your brain， so that in future you shall not only be able to remember all thatyou have seen or heard in the past， but your light within shall be so bright， that you shall beable to understand all that is said or done in your presence.”
“Oh， that is really a very， very GREat gift，” said the old lamp; “I thank you mostheartily. I only hope I shall not be melted down.”
“That is not likely to happen yet，” said the wind; “and I will also blow a memory into you，so that should you receive other similar presents your old age will pass very pleasantly.”
“That is if I am not melted down，” said the lamp. “But should I in that case still retain mymemory?”
“Do be reasonable， old lamp，” said the wind， puffing away.
At this moment the moon burst forth from the clouds. “What will you give the old lamp?”asked the wind.
“I can give nothing，” she replied; “I am on the wane， and no lamps have ever given melight while I have frequently shone upon them.” And with these words the moon hid herselfagain behind the clouds， that she might be saved from further importunities. Just then a dropfell upon the lamp， from the roof of the house， but the drop explained that he was a giftfrom those gray clouds， and perhaps the best of all gifts. “I shall penetrate you sothoroughly，” he said， “that you will have the power of becoming rusty， and， if you wish it，to crumble into dust in one night.”
But this seemed to the lamp a very shabby present， and the wind thought so too. “Doesno one give any more? Will no one give any more?” shouted the breath of the wind， as loudas it could. Then a bright falling star came down， leaving a broad， luminous streak behind it.
“What was that?” cried the herrings head. “Didnot a star fall? I really believe it went into the lamp.Certainly， when such high-born personages try forthe office， we may as well say Good-night， andgo home.”
And so they did， all three， while the old lampthrew a wonderfully strong light all around him.
“This is a glorious gift，” said he; “the brightstars have always been a joy to me， and havealways shone more brilliantly than I ever couldshine， though I have tried with my whole might; and now they have noticed me， a poor oldlamp， and have sent me a gift that will enable me to see clearly everything that I remember，as if it still stood before me， and to be seen by all those who love me. And herein lies thetruest pleasure， for joy which we cannot share with others is only half enjoyed.”
“That sentiment does you honor，” said the wind; “but for this purpose wax lights will benecessary. If these are not lighted in you， your particular faculties will not benefit others inthe least. The stars have not thought of this; they suppose that you and every other lightmust be a wax taper： but I must go down now.” So he laid himself to rest.
“Wax tapers， indeed!” said the lamp， “I have never yet had these， nor is it likely I evershall. If I could only be sure of not being melted down!”
the next day. Well， perhaps we had better pass over the next day. The evening hadcome， and the lamp was resting in a grandfathers chair， and guess where! Why， at the oldwatchmans house. He had begged， as a favor， that the mayor and corporation would allowhim to keep the street lamp， in consideration of his long and faithful service， as he hadhimself hung it up and lit it on the day he first commenced his duties， four-and-twenty yearsago. He looked upon it almost as his own child; he had no children， so the lamp was given tohim. There it lay in the GREat arm-chair near to the warm stove. It seemed almost as if it hadgrown larger， for it appeared quite to fill the chair. The old people sat at their supper， castingfriendly glances at the old lamp， whom they would willingly have admitted to a place at thetable. It is quite true that they dwelt in a cellar， two yards deep in the earth， and they had tocross a stone passage to get to their room， but within it was warm and comfortable and stripsof list had been nailed round the door. The bed and the little window had curtains， andeverything looked clean and neat. On the window seat stood two curious flower-pots which asailor， named Christian， had brought over from the East or West Indies. They were of clay，and in the form of two elephants， with open backs; they were hollow and filled with earth，and through the open space flowers bloomed. In one grew some very fine chives or leeks; thiswas the kitchen garden. The other elephant， which contained a beautiful geranium， theycalled their flower garden. On the wall hung a large colored print， representing the congress ofVienna， and all the kings and emperors at once. A clock， with heavy weights， hung on thewall and went “tick， tick，” steadily enough; yet it was always rather too fast， which，however， the old people said was better than being too slow. They were now eating theirsupper， while the old street lamp， as we have heard， lay in the grandfathers arm-chair nearthe stove. It seemed to the lamp as if the whole world had turned round; but after a while theold watchman looked at the lamp， and spoke of what they had both gone through together，—in rain and in fog; during the short bright nights of summer， or in the long winter nights，through the drifting snow-storms， when he longed to be at home in the cellar. Then the lampfelt it was all right again. He saw everything that had happened quite clearly， as if it werepassing before him. Surely the wind had given him an excellent gift. The old people were veryactive and industrious， they were never idle for even a single hour. On Sunday afternoonsthey would bring out some books， generally a book of travels which they were very fond of.The old man would read aloud about Africa， with its great forests and the wild elephants，while his wife would listen attentively， stealing a glance now and then at the clay elephants，which served as flower-pots.
“I can almost imagine I am seeing it all，” she said; and then how the lamp wished for awax taper to be lighted in him， for then the old woman would have seen the smallest detail asclearly as he did himself. The lofty trees， with their thickly entwined branches， the nakednegroes on horseback， and whole herds of elephants treading down bamboo thickets withtheir broad， heavy feet.
“What is the use of all my capabilities，” sighed the old lamp， “when I cannot obtain anywax lights; they have only oil and tallow here， and these will not do.” One day a GREat heapof wax-candle ends found their way into the cellar. The larger pieces were burnt， and thesmaller ones the old woman kept for waxing her thread. So there were now candles enough，but it never occurred to any one to put a little piece in the lamp.
“Here I am now with my rare powers，” thought the lamp， “I have faculties within me，but I cannot share them; they do not know that I could cover these white walls with beautifultapestry， or change them into noble forests， or， indeed， to anything else they might wishfor.” The lamp， however， was always kept clean and shining in a corner where it attracted alleyes. Strangers looked upon it as lumber， but the old people did not care for that; theyloved the lamp. One day—it was the watchmans birthday—the old woman approached thelamp， smiling to herself， and said， “I will have an illumination to-day in honor of my oldman.” And the lamp rattled in his metal frame， for he thought， “Now at last I shall have alight within me，” but after all no wax light was placed in the lamp， but oil as usual. The lampburned through the whole evening， and began to perceive too clearly that the gift of thestars would remain a hidden treasure all his life. Then he had a dream; for， to one with hisfaculties， dreaming was no difficulty. It appeared to him that the old people were dead， andthat he had been taken to the iron foundry to be melted down. It caused him quite as muchanxiety as on the day when he had been called upon to appear before the mayor and thecouncil at the town-hall. But though he had been endowed with the power of falling into decayfrom rust when he pleased， he did not make use of it. He was therefore put into the melting-furnace and changed into as elegant an iron candlestick as you could wish to see， oneintended to hold a wax taper. The candlestick was in the form of an angel holding a nosegay，in the centre of which the wax taper was to be placed. It was to stand on a GREen writingtable， in a very pleasant room; many books were scattered about， and splendid paintingshung on the walls. The owner of the room was a poet， and a man of intellect; everything hethought or wrote was pictured around him. Nature showed herself to him sometimes in the darkforests， at others in cheerful meadows where the storks were strutting about， or on thedeck of a ship sailing across the foaming sea with the clear， blue sky above， or at night theglittering stars. “What powers I possess!” said the lamp， awaking from his dream; “I couldalmost wish to be melted down; but no， that must not be while the old people live. They loveme for myself alone， they keep me bright， and supply me with oil. I am as well off as thepicture of the congress， in which they take so much pleasure.” And from that time he felt atrest in himself， and not more so than such an honorable old lamp really deserved to be.
你听见过那个老路灯的故事吗?它并不是怎么特别有趣，不过听它一次也没有关系。
这是一个非常和善的老路灯。它服务了许多许多年，但是现在没有人要它了。现在是它最后一晚待在桿子上，照着这条街。它的心情很像一个跳芭蕾舞的老舞女：现在是她最后一晚登台，她知道明天她就要回到顶楼1里去了。这个“明天”引起路灯的恐怖，因为它知道它将第一次要在市政府出现，被“36位先生”2审查一番，看它是不是还能继续服务。
1即屋顶下的那间低矮的房间。一般是当作储藏室使用的。只有穷学生和艺术家住在里面。
2这是丹麦市政府里参议员的总数。
那时就要决定：要不要把它送去照亮一座桥，还是送到乡下的一个工厂里去，也可能直接送到一个炼铁厂去被熔掉。在这种情形下，它可能被改造成为任何东西。不过，它不知道，它是不是还能记得它曾经一度做过路灯——这问题使它感到非常烦恼。
不管情形怎样，它将会跟那个守夜人和他的妻子分开——它一直把他们当做自己的家属。它当路灯的时候也正是他当守夜人的时候。那时他的老婆颇有点自负。她只有在晚上走过路灯的时候，才瞧它一眼;在白天她是不睬它的。不过最近几年间，他们三个人——守夜人、老婆和路灯——都老了;这位太太也来照料它，洗擦它，在它里面加加油。这对夫妇是非常诚实的;他们从来不揩路灯的一滴油。
现在是路灯在街上的最后一晚了;明天它就得到市政府去。这两件事情它一想起就难过!人们不难想像，它现在点燃的劲头不大。不过它的脑子里面也起了许多别的感想。它该是看过多少东西，该是照过多少东西啊，可能它看过的东西还比得上那“36位先生”呢。不过它不愿意讲出来，因为它是一个和善的老路灯。它不愿意触怒任何人，更不愿意触怒那些当权的人。它想起许多事情;偶尔之间，它的亮光就闪一下，好像它有这样的感觉：“是的，人们也会记得我!曾经有一位美貌的年轻人——是的，那是很久很久以前的事了!他拿着一封信走来——一封写在有金边的、粉红色的纸上的信，它的字迹是那么美丽，像是一位小姐的手笔。他把它读了两次，吻了它一下，然后抬起头来看着我，他的眼睛在说：”我是一个最幸福的人!“只有他和我知道他的恋人的第一封信所写的是甚么东西。我还记起了另一对眼睛。说来也真妙，我们的思想会那么漫无边际!街上有一个盛大的送葬的行列。有一个年轻美丽的少妇躺在一个棺材里。棺材搁在铺满了天鹅绒的、盖满了花朵和花圈的柩车上，许多火炬几乎把我的眼睛都弄昏了。整个人行道上都挤满了人，他们都跟在柩车后面。不过当火炬看不见了的时候，我向周围望了一眼：还有一个人倚着路灯桿子在哭泣呢。我永远也忘记不了那双望着我的悲伤的眼睛!”
许多这类的回忆在老路灯的思想中闪过——这个今晚最后一次照着的老路灯。
一个要下班的哨兵最低限度会知道谁来接他的班，还可以和接班的人交代几句话。但是路灯却不知道它的继承人;它可能供给一点关於雨和雾这类事情的情况，关於月亮在人行道上能照多远、风儿多半会从哪方吹来这类材料。
有三个东西站在排水沟的桥上，它们把自己介绍给路灯，因为它们以为路灯可以让位给它们。一个是青鱼的头——它在黑暗中可以发出亮光。它觉得如果有它待在路灯桿子上，人们可以节省许多油。另一个是一块朽木——它也可以发出闪光。它对自己说，它的光起码比鱼头的光要亮一点;何况它还是森林中一株最漂亮的树的最后遗体。第三个是萤火虫。这一位是甚么地方的，路灯想像不出来。但是它却居然来了，而且还在发着光。不过朽木和青鱼头发誓说，萤火虫只能在一定的时刻内发光，因此不能考虑它。
老路灯说它们哪个也发不出足够的光，来完成一个路灯的任务。但是它们都不相信这话。当它们听说老路灯自己不能把位置让给别人的时候，它们很高兴，觉得这是因为路灯老糊涂了，不会选择继承人。
在这同时，风儿从街角那边走来，向老路灯的通风口里吹，并且说：“我刚才听到的这些话是甚么意思呢?难道你明天就要离开吗?难道这就是我看到你的最后一晚么?那么我送给你一件礼物吧!我将用一种特殊的方式向你的脑盖骨里吹，使你不仅能清楚地记得你看见过或听到过的一切东西，同时还要使你有一个清醒的头脑，使你能看到人们在你面前谈到或讲到的事情。”“是的，那真是太好了!”老路灯说。“我感谢你，只要我不会被熔掉!”“大概还不会的，”风儿说。“现在我将吹起你的记忆。如果你能多有几件这样的礼物，你的老年就可以过得很愉快了!”“只要我不会被熔掉!”路灯说。“也许，即使如此，你还能保证我有记忆吧!”“老路灯，请放得有理智些吧!”风儿说。於是风就吹起来。这时月亮走出来了。 “你将送点甚么礼物呢?”风儿问。“我甚么也不送，”月亮说。“我快要缺口了。灯儿从来不借光给我。相反地，我倒常常借光给他。”
说完这话以后，月亮就又钻到云块后面去了，它不愿意人们来麻烦它。
有一滴水从通风口里落进来。这滴水好像是从屋顶上滴下来的。不过它说它是从乌云上滴下来的，而且还有一件礼物——可能是一件最好的礼物。“我将浸润你的全身，使得你——如果你愿意的话——获得一种力量，叫你一夜就把全身锈掉，化成灰尘。”
不过路灯认为这是一件很不好的礼物;风儿也同意这种看法。“再没有更好的吗?再没有更好的吗?”风呼呼地使劲吹着。
这时一颗明亮的流星落下来了，形成一条长长的光带。“那是甚么?”青鱼头大声说。“不是一颗星落下来了么?我以为它落到路灯里去了!如果地位这样高的人物也来要他的位置，那么我们最好还是回去睡觉的好!”
它这样做了，其余的两位也这样做了!不过老路灯忽然发出一道强烈的光来。“这是一件可爱的'礼物，”它说。“我一直非常喜爱这些明星，他们发出那么美丽的光，不管我怎样努力和争取，我自己是怎么也做不到的;他们居然注意起我这个寒碜的老路灯来，派一颗星送一件礼物给我，使我有一种机能把我所能记得的和看见的东西也让我所喜欢的人能够看到。这才是真正的快乐哩。因为凡是我们不能跟别人共享的快乐，只能算是一半的快乐。”“这是一种值得尊敬的想法!”风儿说。“不过你不知道，为了达到这种目的，蜡烛是必要的。如果你的身体里没有燃着一支蜡烛，别人也不会看见你的任何东西。星星没有想到这一点，他们以为凡是发光的东西，身体里都有一根蜡烛。但是我现在困了!”风儿说，“我要睡了!”於是风就睡下了。
第二天——是的，我们可以把第二天跳过去。第二天晚上，路灯躺在一张椅子上。这是在甚么地方呢?在那个老守夜人的屋子里。他曾经请求过那“36位先生”准许他保留住这盏灯，作为他长期忠实服务的一种报酬。他们对他的要求大笑了一通;他们把这路灯送给了他。现在这灯就躺在一个温暖的火炉旁的靠椅上。路灯彷彿比以前长得更大了，因为它几乎把整个椅子都塞满了。
这对老夫妇正在坐着吃晚饭，同时用温柔的眼光望着这个老路灯。他们倒很想让它坐上饭桌呢。
他们住的地方事实上是一个地窖，比地面要低两码。要走进这房间里去，人们得通过一个有石子铺地的过道。不过这里是很舒适的;门上贴着许多布条，一切东西都显得清洁和整齐;床的周围和小窗上都挂着帘子。窗台上放着两个奇怪的花盆——是水手克利斯仙从东印度或西印度带回来的。
那是用泥土烧成的两只象。这两只动物都没有背;不过代替背的是人们放在它们身躯中的土，土里还开出了花：一只象里长出美丽的青葱——这是这对老年人的菜园;另一只象里长出一棵大天竺葵——这是他们的花园。墙上挂着一张大幅的彩色画，描写维也纳会议1的情景。你一眼就可以看到所有的国王和皇帝。那架有沉重的铅摆的、波尔霍尔姆钟2在“滴答!滴答!”地走着，而它老是走得太快。不过这对老年人说，这比走得慢要好得多。
1维也纳会议，是法国拿破仑帝国崩溃的时候，英、俄、普、奥等欧洲国家於1814-1815年在维也纳召开的重新瓜分欧洲领土的会议。但这个会议没有解决甚么问题。参加的要人们只是开跳舞会，舒服了一阵子。
2波尔霍尔姆(Bornholm)是丹麦的一个小岛，以制钟着名。
他们吃着晚饭。这个路灯，正如刚才说过了的，是躺在火炉旁边的一个靠椅上。对路灯说来，这就好像整个世界翻了一个面。不过这个老守夜人望着它，谈起他们两人在雨和雾中，在短短的明朗的夏夜里，在那雪花纷飞、使人想要回到地窖里的家去的那些生活经历，这时候，老路灯的头脑就又变得清醒起来。那些生活又清清楚楚地在他面前出现。是的，风儿把它弄得亮起来了。
这对老人是很朴素和勤俭的。他们没有浪费过一分钟。在星期日下午他们总是拿出一两本书来读——一般说来，总是游记一类的读物。老头儿高声地读着关於非洲、关於藏有大森林和野象的故事。老太太总是注意地听着，同时偷偷地望着那对作为花盆的泥像。“我几乎像是亲眼看到过的一样!”她说。
这时路灯特别希望它身体里能有一根蜡烛在燃着，好叫这个老太太像它一样能把一切东西都看得清清楚楚：那些枝丫交叉在一起的、高大的树啦，骑在马上的裸体黑人啦，用又宽又笨的脚在芦苇和灌木上踩过去的一群一群的象啦。“如果我没有蜡烛，那么我的机能又有甚么用呢?”路灯歎了一口气。“他们只有清油和牛油烛，这个不成!”
有一天，地窖里有了一扎蜡烛头，顶大的那几根被点着了;最小的那几根老太太要在做针线时用来擦线。这样一来，蜡烛倒是有了，但是没有人想起放一小根到路灯里面去。“我现在和我稀有的机能全在这儿!”路灯想。“我身体里面甚么都有，但是我没有办法让他们来分享!他们不知道，我能在这白色的墙上变出最美丽的壁毡、丰茂的森林，和他们所能希望看到的一切东西。”
但是路灯待在墙角里，被擦得乾乾净净，弄得整整齐齐，引起所有的眼睛注意。人们说它是一件老废料;不过那对老年夫妇倒不在乎，仍然爱这路灯。
有一天老守夜人的生日到来了。老太太走近这盏灯，温和地微笑了一下，说：“我今晚要为他把灯点一下!”
路灯把它的铁盖嘎嘎地响了一下，因为它想：“现在我要为他们亮起来了。”但是它里面只是加进了油，而没有放蜡烛。路灯点了一整晚，只有现在它才懂得，星星所送给它的礼物——一切礼物之中最好一件礼物——恐怕只能算是它余生中一件专用的“秘宝”了。这时它做了一个梦——凡是一个有稀有机能的人，做梦是不太难的。它梦见这对老夫妇都死了，它自己则被送进一个铁铺里被熔掉了。它惊恐的程度，跟它那天要到市政府去、要被那“36位先生”检查时差不多。虽然假如它愿意的话，它有一种能力可以使自己生锈和化为灰尘，但是它并不这样做。它却走进熔炉里去，被铸成了一架可以插蜡烛的最漂亮的烛台。它的形状是一个抱着花束的安琪儿;而蜡烛就插在这个花束的中央。这烛台在一张绿色的写字台上佔了一个地位。这房间是非常舒适的;房间里有许多书籍，墙上挂着许多名画。这是一个诗人的房间。他所想的和写的东西都在它的周围展开。这房间有时变成深郁的森林，有时变成太阳光照着的、有颧鸟在漫步的草原，有时变成在波涛汹涌的海上航行着的船。“我有多么奇妙的机能啊!”老路灯醒来的时候说。“我几乎想要熔化了!不成!只要这对老夫妇还活着，我决不能这样做!他们因为我是一个路灯才爱我。我像他们的一个孩子。
他们洗擦我，喂我油吃。我现在情况好得像整个维也纳会议，1这真是一件了不起的事情!“
从那时候起，它享受着内心的平安，而这个和善的老路灯也应当有这种享受。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 2
Have you heard the story of the old street lamp? It was not particularly exciting, but it is worth listening to.
This kind old lamp had served the street for many years, but now nobody needed it anymore. Tonight was its last night on the pole, lighting up the road. Its mood was like an aging ballerina’s on her final performance—she knew she would return to the attic tomorrow. The thought of "tomorrow" filled the lamp with terror, for it would be taken to the town hall to be inspected by "thirty-six gentlemen".
They would decide its fate: to light a bridge, to serve a country factory, or to be melted down in an ironworks. "Will I still remember being a street lamp if I’m remade?" The question troubled it deeply.
Most of all, it grieved at leaving the night watchman and his wife—who had become its family. They had grown old together, and in recent years, the wife had even cleaned it and added oil. The couple were honest, never stealing a drop of its oil.
你听过老路灯的故事吗？它算不上特别有趣，但听一听也无妨。
这盏和善的老路灯已经为这条街服务了许多年，可现在没人需要它了。今晚是它在灯杆上的最后一夜，照亮着这条马路。它的心情就像一位年老的芭蕾舞演员迎来最后一场演出 —— 她知道明天就要回到顶楼的`储藏室了。一想到 “明天”，路灯就满心恐惧，因为它要被送到市政厅，接受 “三十六位先生” 的审查。
他们会决定它的命运：去照亮一座桥，去乡下的工厂服役，或者在炼铁厂里被熔化成铁水。“如果我被重造，还会记得自己曾经是盏路灯吗？” 这个问题让它无比烦恼。
最让它难过的是要离开守夜人和他的妻子 —— 它早已把他们当作家人。他们一起变老，近些年，女主人甚至会帮它擦拭、添油。这对夫妇非常诚实，从来没偷用过它的一滴油。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 3
Three creatures stood on the drain bridge, introducing themselves as potential successors.
"I’m a herring’s head," the first one said, glowing faintly in the dark. "People could save lots of oil if I’m on the pole."
"I’m a piece of rotten wood," the second one flickered. "My light is brighter than a fish head! Besides, I’m the remains of the most beautiful tree in the forest."
The third was a firefly. No one knew where it came from, but it shone steadily. However, the herring head and rotten wood declared, "Fireflies only glow sometimes—totally unqualified!"
The old lamp shook gently. "None of you can give enough light for a street lamp," it said. But they didn’t believe it, and left happily when they heard the lamp couldn’t choose its successor.
三个小家伙站在排水沟的桥上，自称是路灯的潜在继任者。
“我是青鱼的头，” 第一个家伙说，在黑暗中发出微弱的光，“要是把我装在灯杆上，人们能省好多油呢。”
“我是一块朽木，” 第二个闪烁着微光，“我的光比鱼头亮多了！而且我是森林里最漂亮的树的残骸呢。”
第三个是只萤火虫。没人知道它从哪儿来，但它的.光很稳定。可青鱼头和朽木却宣称：“萤火虫只在特定时候发光 —— 完全不合格！”
老路灯轻轻晃动了一下。“你们谁都发不出足够照亮一条街的光，” 它说。但它们根本不信，听说路灯无权选择继任者后，就开心地离开了。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 4
The wind blew through the lamp’s vents, "I heard you’re leaving tomorrow? This is my gift!" It blew softly into the lamp’s casing.
"With this, you’ll remember everything you’ve seen and heard clearly. You’ll even understand what people say and think when they pass by."
"That’s wonderful!" the lamp exclaimed. "Thank you—if only I won’t be melted down!"
"Probably not," the wind said. "Now I’ll stir your memories. Such gifts make old age happy!"
The moon peeked out then. "What will you give?" the wind asked.
"Nothing," the moon replied coldly. "I’ve lent light to the lamp for years, but it never returned the favor." With that, it hid behind clouds again.
A drop of water fell inside. "I can make you rust away overnight," it said. The lamp and wind both thought it a terrible gift.
风从路灯的通风口吹进来：“听说你明天就要走了？这是我的礼物！” 它轻轻往灯壳里吹气。
“有了这个，你能清楚记得见过听过的一切，甚至能明白路过的人在说什么、想什么。”
“太好啦！” 路灯惊呼，“谢谢您 —— 只要我不会被熔化就好！”
“应该不会的，” 风说，“现在我来唤醒你的.记忆。这样的礼物能让晚年变得快乐！”
这时月亮探出头来。“你要送什么礼物？” 风问。
“什么都不送，” 月亮冷冷地说，“我借光给这路灯好几年了，它从来没回报过我。” 说完，又躲回了云后。
一滴水珠落进灯里。“我能让你一夜之间锈成灰尘，” 它说。路灯和风都觉得这是份糟糕的礼物。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 5
Just then, a bright shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a long trail of light.
"What’s that?" the herring head cried. "A star is falling! It looks like it’s heading for the lamp! If someone so important wants its place, we’d better go home!"
The three creatures hurried away. Suddenly, the old lamp emitted a brilliant glow.
"This is a lovely gift," it whispered. "I’ve always admired the stars—their light is so beautiful, far brighter than mine. They noticed a shabby old lamp like me and sent a star with a gift!"
The star had given it a special power: to show its memories to people it liked. "Happiness shared is double happiness," the lamp thought.
The wind yawned. "But you need a candle inside for others to see the memories. The stars forgot that. I’m sleepy now—goodnight!"
就在这时，一颗明亮的流星划过天空，留下一道长长的光带。
“那是什么？” 青鱼头大叫，“有星星掉下来了！好像朝着路灯飞去了！要是这么尊贵的人物来抢位置，我们还是回家吧！”
三个小家伙慌忙逃走了。突然，老路灯发出一道耀眼的光芒。
“这是份美好的礼物，” 它轻声说，“我一直很羡慕星星 —— 它们的光那么美，比我亮多了。它们居然注意到我这样寒酸的老路灯，还派了一颗星星送礼物！”
星星赋予了它一种特殊的能力：能把自己的回忆展示给喜欢的`人看。“能分享的快乐才是完整的快乐，” 路灯心想。
风打了个哈欠：“不过你里面得点根蜡烛，别人才能看到回忆。星星忘了这茬。我困了 —— 晚安！”
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 6
The next day, the lamp lay on a chair in the night watchman’s cottage. He had begged the thirty-six gentlemen to let him keep it, as a reward for his long service. They laughed but gave the lamp to him anyway.
The old couple treated it with great care. Every morning, the wife wiped its glass clean; every evening, the watchman filled it with oil and lit the wick. The lamp’s light was softer now, but it 照亮了 the small room warmly.
One winter night, a poor child knocked on the door, shivering with cold. The couple let her in, and she sat beside the lamp. "It feels like sitting under the old street lamp downtown," she said.
The lamp flickered gently, sharing its memory of the child’s mother passing by years ago, holding a letter and smiling.
第二天，路灯躺在了守夜人小屋的椅子上。守夜人恳求那三十六位先生把路灯留给自己，作为他多年忠实服务的奖赏。先生们笑着答应了。
老两口对路灯呵护备至。每天早上，女主人都会把玻璃擦得干干净净；每天晚上，守夜人会添满灯油，点燃灯芯。路灯的.光现在柔和多了，却温暖地照亮了这个小房间。
一个冬夜，一个穷苦的小孩敲响了门，冻得瑟瑟发抖。夫妇俩让她进了屋，小孩坐在路灯旁边。“感觉就像坐在市中心那盏老路灯下面，” 她说。
路灯轻轻闪烁，分享起它的回忆：多年前，小孩的妈妈路过时，手里拿着一封信，笑得那么灿烂。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 7
When spring came, the watchman hung the lamp outside the cottage window on sunny days. A sparrow built a nest in the nearby apple tree and became friends with the lamp.
"I used to fly over the town every night," the sparrow said. "Your light was the brightest on the street! I always told my friends, ‘Follow the old lamp—you’ll never get lost.’"
The lamp was happy to hear that. It shared memories of the baker’s cat napping under it, and the postman stopping to read letters by its light.
One afternoon, the firefly from before flew back. "I’m sorry I couldn’t take your place," it said. "But I’ve been telling everyone about your kindness!"
The lamp flickered kindly. "I have a new job now—lighting this cottage. It’s small, but full of love."
The sparrow chirped, "We’ll be your neighbors forever!"
春天到了，天气好的时候，守夜人就把路灯挂在小屋的.窗外。一只麻雀在附近的苹果树上筑了巢，和路灯成了朋友。
“我以前每晚都在镇上飞，” 麻雀说，“你的光是街上最亮的！我总跟伙伴们说：‘跟着老路灯走，绝对不会迷路。’”
路灯听了很开心。它分享起回忆：面包师家的猫在它下面打盹，邮递员停下来借着它的光读信。
一天下午，之前那只萤火虫飞了回来。“对不起，我没能接替你的位置，” 它说，“但我一直在跟大家讲你的善良！”
路灯友善地闪烁着：“我现在有了新工作 —— 照亮这间小屋。这里很小，却充满了爱。”
麻雀叽叽喳喳地说：“我们会永远做你的邻居！”
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 8
A heavy rainstorm hit the town one night. Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed. The lamp glowed steadily inside the cottage, comforting the old couple.
"Do you remember that storm ten years ago?" the watchman asked. "A young mother held her baby under your light, waiting for the doctor. You stayed extra bright that night."
The lamp flickered, recalling the woman’s anxious face and the baby’s soft cries. Just then, someone knocked on the door. It was the doctor, soaked to the skin—he’d gotten lost in the rain.
The couple let him in, and he warmed himself by the lamp. "I used to rely on this lamp to find my way," he said. "It’s good to see it still shining."
The lamp’s light grew brighter, sharing its memory of the doctor as a young man, rushing to help the sick by its light.
一天夜里，镇上遭遇了暴雨。雷声隆隆，闪电划破夜空。小屋里的路灯稳稳地亮着，给老两口带来慰藉。
“你还记得十年前那场暴风雨吗？” 守夜人问，“一位年轻的妈妈抱着宝宝在你下面等医生。那天晚上你亮得特别久。”
路灯闪烁了一下，想起了女人焦急的脸庞和宝宝轻柔的哭声。就在这时，有人敲门。是医生，浑身湿透 —— 他在雨里迷了路。
夫妇俩让他进了屋，医生在路灯旁暖和身子。“我以前总靠这盏灯认路，” 他说，“真高兴看到它还在发光。”
路灯的.光变得更亮了，分享起它的回忆：当年还是小伙子的医生，借着它的光匆忙去救治病人。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 9
Autumn brought a harvest celebration to the village. The villagers decorated the square with lanterns, but they still missed the old street lamp that used to light the town square.
"We should invite the lamp to the celebration!" a child suggested. The villagers agreed and sent the baker to fetch it.
The watchman hesitated, but the lamp flickered eagerly. So they carried it to the square, and the blacksmith made a temporary pole for it. When they lit the wick, the lamp’s light spread across the square.
Everyone cheered. The old teacher said, "This lamp saw my first day of teaching, and my daughter’s wedding!" The tailor added, "It lit my shop window when I made my first suit!"
The lamp felt warm all over. It shared its memories with everyone—happy and sad, bright and quiet. The celebration lasted until midnight, and the lamp never shone so brightly.
秋天，村子里举办了丰收庆典。村民们用灯笼装饰了广场，可还是想念那盏曾经照亮镇中心广场的老路灯。
“我们应该请路灯来参加庆典！” 一个小孩提议。村民们都同意了，派面包师去接它。
守夜人有些犹豫，可路灯急切地闪烁着。于是大家把它抬到了广场，铁匠还临时做了个灯杆。点燃灯芯后，路灯的光芒洒满了整个广场。
所有人都欢呼起来。老教师说：“这盏灯见证了我第一天教书，还有我女儿的婚礼！” 裁缝补充道：“我做第一套西装时，就是它照亮了我的.橱窗！”
路灯浑身都觉得暖暖的。它把自己的回忆分享给所有人 —— 欢乐的、悲伤的、明亮的、宁静的。庆典一直持续到午夜，路灯从来没这么亮过。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 10
Winter came, and snow covered the cottage. The lamp sat on the windowsill, watching the snow fall. The watchman’s granddaughter, Lila, came to visit.
"Tell me a story, old lamp," she said, resting her chin on her hands. The lamp flickered, and Lila gasped—she could see pictures in the light!
She saw a young soldier reading a letter by the lamp, a little girl dropping her doll and crying, and the watchman and his wife meeting for the first time under its light.
"These are your memories!" Lila exclaimed. "They’re better than any storybook!"
Every afternoon, Lila came to listen. The lamp shared more memories: the time it caught a moth in its light, the rain washing its glass clean, and the wind singing to it on quiet nights.
When Lila had to leave, she hugged the lamp gently. "I’ll come back next winter," she promised.
冬天来了，大雪覆盖了小屋。路灯坐在窗台上，看着雪花飘落。守夜人的孙女莉拉来做客了。
“老路灯，给我讲个故事吧，” 她托着下巴说。路灯闪烁了一下，莉拉惊呼起来 —— 她在灯光里看到了画面！
她看到一个年轻的士兵借着灯光读信，一个小女孩弄丢了娃娃在哭，还有守夜人和他的妻子第一次在路灯下相遇。
“这些是你的回忆！” 莉拉叫道，“比任何故事书都好看！”
每天下午，莉拉都会来听故事。路灯分享了更多回忆：有一次它的.光里飞进了一只飞蛾，雨水把它的玻璃洗得干干净净，安静的夜晚风给它唱歌。
莉拉要走的时候，轻轻抱了抱路灯。“明年冬天我还来，” 她保证道。
双语童话阅读《老路灯》 11
Years passed, and the watchman and his wife grew very old. The lamp’s glass was scratched, and its wick burned shorter, but it still glowed every night.
One evening, the wind came again. "You’ve lived a good life," it said. "Do you have any wishes?"
The lamp flickered softly. "I wish my light can stay with the couple always."
That night, the lamp’s light didn’t go out even after the wick burned down. The next morning, the wife found it still glowing—faint but warm.
When the couple passed away, the villagers kept the lamp in the church. Tourists came to see it, and children listened to its stories. Lila, now an old woman herself, would light a candle beside it every month.
"The lamp’s light isn’t just fire," she’d say. "It’s memories, love, and all the good things it saw." And indeed, the old lamp’s light never truly faded.
许多年过去了，守夜人和他的妻子变得很老很老。路灯的玻璃有了划痕，灯芯也烧得很短了，但它每晚依然会发光。
一天晚上，风又吹来了。“你过了很好的一生，” 风说，“有什么愿望吗？”
路灯轻轻闪烁：“我希望我的光能一直陪着这对老两口。”
那天晚上，即使灯芯烧尽了，路灯的光也没有熄灭。第二天早上，女主人发现它还亮着 —— 微弱却温暖。
老两口去世后，村民们把路灯安放在了教堂里。游客们来看它，孩子们听它的故事。莉拉自己也成了老太太，每个月都会在它旁边点一根蜡烛。
“这盏灯的`光不只是火焰，” 她会说，“是回忆，是爱，还有它见过的所有美好的事。” 确实，老路灯的光从来没有真正熄灭过。
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