" WHAT lovely roses！" said the sunshine．" And ev-ery bud will unfold，and be equally beautiful．They are my children！ I have kissed them into life！"
" They are my children！" said the dew." I have suckled them with my tears．"
" I should think that I am their mother！" said therose hedge．"You others are only god-parents， who gave christening gifts，according to your means and good will．"
" My lovely rose-children！"said all three of them，and wished every blossom the greatest luck，but only one could be the luckiest，and one must be also the leastlucky；but which of them？
" That I shall find out！" said the wind．" I travel farand wide， force myself through the narrowest chink； I know about everything outside and inside．"
Every blossomed rose heard what had been said，every swelling bud caught it．
Then there came through the garden a sorrowful， loving mother，dressed in black；she plucked one of the roses，which was just half-blown，fresh and full；it seemed to her to be the most beautiful of them all．Shetook the blossom into the quiet， silent chamber， where only a few days ago the young， happy daughter had romped about， but now lay there， like a sleeping marblefigure， stretched out in the black coffin．The motherkissed the dead child，then kissed the half-blown rose，and laid it on the breast of the young girl， as if it by itsfreshness and a mother's kiss could make the heart beatagain. It was as if the rose were swelling；every leaf quiv-ered with delight at the thought，" What a career of lovewas granted to me！ I become like a child of man， receivea mother'kiss and words of blessing， and go into the unknown kingdom， dreaming on the breast of the dead！Assuredly I am the luckiest among all my sister！"
In the garden，where the rose-tree stood， walked the old weeding-woman ；she also gazed at the glory of the tree，and fixed her eyes on the biggest full-blown rose． One drop of dew， and one warm day more， and the leaves would fall；the woman saw that and thought that as it had fulfilledits mission of beauty， now it should serve its purpose of usefulness． And so she plucked it， and put it in a newspa- per ； it was to go home with her to other leaf stripped roses，and be preserved with them and become pot-pourri， to be mixed with the little blue boys which are called lavender， and be embalmed with salt．Only roses and kings are em- balmed. " I am the most honoured！" said the rose， as the woman took it．" I am the luckiest！ I shall be embalmed！"
There came into the garden two young men， one wasa painter，the other a poet；each of them plucked a rose， beautiful to behold． And the painter made a picture of therose on canvas， so that it thought it saw itself in a mirror. "In that way"， said the painter，"it shall live for many generations， during which many millions and millionsof roses will wither and die！"
" I have been the most favoured！ I have won thegreatest happiness！"
The poet gazed at his rose， and wrote a poem aboutit， a whole mystery，all that he read，leaf by leaf， in therose．" Love's Picture-book"； it was an immortal poem. "I am immortal with that，" said the rose，" I am theluckiest！"
There was yet，amongst the display of roses，one which was almost hidden by the others；accidentally， fortu-nately perhaps， it had a blemish， it did not sit straight onits stalk， and the leaves on one side did not match those onthe other； and in the middle of the rose itself， grew a lit-tle， deformed，green leaf； that happens with rose！
"Poor child！" said the wind， and kissed it on thecheek．
The rose thought it was a greeting，a homage； it hada feeling that it was a little differently formed from theother roses，that there grew a green leaf out of its interi-or， and it looked upon that as a distinction．A butterflyflew down upon it， and kissed its leaves． This was a woo- er； she let him fly away again．There came an immenselybig grasshopper； he sat himself certainly upon anotherrose，and rubbed his shin-bone in amorous mood—that isthe sign of love with grasshoppers . The rose he sat on didnot understand it， but the rose with the distinction did，for the grasshopper looked at her with eyes which said，"Icould eat you up out of sheer love！" and no farther canlove ever go；then the one is absorbed by the other！ Butthe rose would not be absorbed by the jumper．
The nightingale sang in the clear starry night．
" It is for me alone！" said the rose with the blemishor distinction．" Why should I thus in every respect bedistinguished above all my sisters！Why did I get this pe-culiarity， which makes me the lucklest？"
Then two gentlemen smoking cigars came into the garden ；they talked about roses and about tobacco ；roses，it was said， could not stand smoke， they lose their colourand become green； it was worth trying． They had not theheart to take one of the very finest roses，they took the one with the blemish．
" What a new distinction！" it said，" I am exceeding-ly lucky！The very luckiest！"
And it became green with self-consciousness and to-bacco smoke．
One rose， still half-blown， perhaps the finest on thetree，got the place of honour in the gardener's tastefullyarranged bouquet ；it was brought to the young， lordlymaster of the house， and drove with him in the carriage；it sat as a flower of beauty among other flowers and lovelygreen leaves； it went to a splendid gathering，where menand women sat in fine attire illuminated by a thousand lamps；music sounded； it was in the sea of light whichfilled the theatre； and when smidst the storm of applausethe celebrated young dancer fluttered forward on the stage， bouquet after bouquet flew like a rain of flowers before her feet． There fell the bouquet in which the lovelyrose sat like a gem． It felt the fullness of its indescribablegood fortune， the honour and splendour into which it floated；and as it touched the floor， it danced too ， itsprang， and flew along the boards， breaking its stalk as itfell． It did not come into the hands of the favourite， itrolled behind the scenes， where a scene-shifter took it up，saw how beautiful it was， how full of fragrance it was， butthere was no stalk on it．So he put it in his pocket，and when he went home in the evening it was in a dram-glass， and lay there in water the whole night． Early in the morn- ing it was set before the grandmother， who sat in her arm-chair， old and frail． She looked at the lovely broken rose，and rejoiced in its beauty and its scent. "Yes， you did not go to the rich and fine lady's table， but to the poor old woman； but here you are like a whole rose-tree；how lovely you are！"
And she looked with childlike delight at the flower， and thought，no doubt ，of her own long-past youthful days. " There was a hole in the pane，" said the wind，" Ieasily got in， and saw the old woman's eyes， youthfullyshining，and the lovely， broken rose in the dram-glass．
The luckiest of all！ I know it！ I can tell it！"
Each rose on the tree had its story．Each rose be-lieved and thought itself to be the luckiest， and faith makesblessed．The last rose，however，was the luckiest of all，inits own opinion. " I outlived them all！ I am the last， the only one， mother's dearest child！"
" And I am the mother of them！" said the rose-hedge. " I am that！" said the sunshine．
"And I，" said wind and weather．
" Each has a share in them！"said the wind，"and each shall get a share in them！" and so the wind strewed the leaves out over the hedge， where the dew-drops lay， where the sun shone．" I，also， will get my share，" saidthe wind．" I got all the stories of all the roses，which Iwill tell out in the wide world！Tell me now， which was theluckiest of them all？ Yes， you must say that； I have saidenough！"
谁是最幸运的
“多么美丽的玫瑰花啊！”太阳光说。“每一朵花苞将会开出来，而且将会是同样的美丽。它们都是我的孩子！我吻它们，使它们获得生命！”
“它们是我的孩子！”露水说。“是我用眼泪把它们抚养大的。”
“我要认为我是它们的母亲！”玫瑰篱笆说。“你们只是一些干爸爸和干妈妈。你们不过凭你们的能力和好意，在它们取名时送了一点礼物罢了。”
“我美丽的玫瑰孩子！”他们三位齐声说，同时祝福每朵花获得极大的幸运。不过最大的幸运只能一个人有，而同时也必定还有一个人只得到最小的幸运；但是它们中间哪一个是这样呢？
“这个我倒要弄个明白！”风儿说。“我什么地方都去，连最小的隙缝也要钻进去。什么事情的里里外外我都知道。”
每朵盛开的玫瑰花听到了这话，每一个要开的花苞也听到了这话。
这时有一个悲愁的、慈爱的、穿着黑丧服的母亲走到花园里来了，她摘下一朵玫瑰。这朵花正是半开，既新鲜，又丰满。在她看来，它似乎是玫瑰花中最美丽的一朵。她把这朵花拿到一个清静无声的房间里去——在这儿，几天以前还有一个快乐年轻的女儿在蹦蹦跳跳着，但是现在她却僵直地躺在一个黑棺材里，像一个睡着了的大理石像。母亲把这死孩子吻了一下，又把这半开的玫瑰花吻了一下，然后把花儿放在这年轻女孩子的胸膛上，好像这朵花的香气和母亲的吻就可以使得她的心再跳动起来似的。
这朵玫瑰花似乎正在开放。它的每一片花瓣因了一种幸福感而颤抖着，它想：“人们现在给了我一种爱的使命！我好像成了一个人间的孩子，得到了一个母亲的吻和祝福。我将走进一个未知的国度里去，在死者的胸膛上做着梦！无疑地，在我的姊妹之中我要算是最幸运的了！”
在长着这棵玫瑰树的花园里，那个为花锄草的老女人走过来了。她也注意到了这棵树的美；她的双眼凝视着一大朵盛开的花。再有一次露水，再有一天的温暖，它的花瓣就会落了。老女人看到了这一点，所以她就觉得，它既然完成了美的任务，它现在也应该有点实际的用处了。因此她就把它摘下来，包在一张报纸里。她要把它带回家，和一些其他没有叶儿的玫瑰花放在一起，做成“混合花”保存下来；要把它和一些叫薰衣草的“蓝小孩”混在一起，用盐永远保藏下来！只有玫瑰花和国王才能这样。
“我是最光荣的！”当锄草的女人拿着它的时候，玫瑰花说。“我是最幸运的！我将被保藏下来！”
有两个年轻人到这花园里来，一个是画家，一个是诗人。他们每人摘下了一朵好看的玫瑰花。
画家把这朵盛开的玫瑰花画在画布上，弄得这花以为自己正在照着镜子。
“这样一来，”画家说，“它就可以活好几代了。在这期间将不知有几百万朵玫瑰花会萎谢，会死掉！”
“我是最得宠的！”这玫瑰花说，“我得到了最大的幸福！”
诗人把他的那朵玫瑰看了一下，写了一首歌颂它的诗——歌颂他在这朵玫瑰的每片花瓣上所能读到的神秘：《爱的画册》——这是一首不朽的诗。
“我跟这首诗永垂不朽了，”玫瑰花说。“我是最幸运的！”
在这一丛美丽的玫瑰花中，有一朵几乎被别的花埋没了。很偶然地，也可能算是很幸运地，这朵花有一个缺点——它不能直直地立在它的茎上，而且它这一边的叶子跟那一边的叶子不相称：在这朵花的正*长得有一片畸形的小绿叶。这种现象在玫瑰花中也是免不了会发生的！
“可怜的孩子！”风儿说，同时在它的脸上吻了一下。
这朵玫瑰以为这是一种祝贺，一种称赞的表示。它有一种感觉，觉得自己与众不同，而它的正中心长出一片绿叶，正表现出它的奇特。一只蝴蝶飞到它上面来，吻了它的叶子。这是一个求婚者；它让他飞走了。后来有一只粗暴的大蚱蜢到来了；他四平八稳地坐在另一朵玫瑰花上，同时自作多情地把自己的胫骨擦了几下——这是蚱蜢的表示爱情的一种方式。被他坐着的那朵玫瑰花不懂得这道理：可是这朵与众不同的、有一片小绿叶的玫瑰懂得，因为蚱蜢在看它——他的眼色似乎在说：“我可以爱得把你一口气吃掉！”不管怎么热烈的爱情也超过不了这种程度，爱得被吸收到爱人的身体里去！可是这朵玫瑰倒不愿被吸收到这个蚱蜢的身体里去。
夜莺在一个满天星斗的夜里唱着。
“这是为我而唱的！”那朵有缺点、或者说那朵与众不同的玫瑰花说。“为什么我在各方面都要比我的姊妹们特别一些呢？为什么我得到了这个特点，使我成为最幸运的花呢？”
两位抽着雪茄烟的绅士走到花园里来。他们谈论着玫瑰花和烟草：据说玫瑰经不起烟熏；它们马上会失掉它们的光彩，变成绿色；这倒值得试一试。他们不愿意试那些最漂亮的玫瑰。他们要试试这朵有缺点的玫瑰。
“这是一种新的殊荣！”它说，“我真是分外的幸运，非常地幸运！”
于是它在自满和烟雾中变成了绿色。
有一朵含苞未放的玫瑰——可能是玫瑰树上最漂亮的一朵——在园丁扎得很精致的一个花束里占了一个首要的位置。它被送给这家那个高贵的年轻主人，它跟他一起乘着马车，作为一朵美丽的花儿，坐在别的花儿和绿叶中间。它参加五光十色的集会：这儿男人和女人打扮得花枝招展，在无数的灯光中射出光彩。音乐奏起来了。这是在照耀得像白昼一般的戏院里面。在暴风雨般的掌声中，一位有名的年轻舞蹈家翩翩来到舞台前，一连串的花束，像花的雨点似地向她的脚下抛来。扎得有那朵像宝石一样美丽的玫瑰花束也落下来了；这朵玫瑰感到说不出的幸运，感到它在向光荣和美丽飞去。当它一接触到舞台的时候，它就舞起来，跳起来，在舞台上滚。它跌断了它的茎。它没有到达它所崇拜的那个人手中去，却滚到幕后去了。道具员把它捡起来，看到它是那么美丽，那么芬芳，只可惜它没有茎子。他把它放在衣袋里。当他晚间回到家来的时候，他就把它放在一个小酒杯里；它在水里浸了一整夜。大清早，它被放到祖母的面前。而又老又衰弱的她坐在一个靠椅里，望着这朵美丽的、残破的玫瑰花，非常欣赏它和它的香气。
“是的，你没有走到有钱的、漂亮的小姐桌子旁边去；你倒是到一个穷苦的老太婆身边来了。不过你在我身边就好像一整棵玫瑰花树呢。你是多么可爱啊！”
于是她怀着孩子那么快乐的心情来望着这朵花。当然，她同时也想起了她消逝了很久的那个青春时代。
“窗玻璃上有一个小孔，”风儿说，“我很轻松地钻进去了。我看到了这个老太婆发出青春的光彩的眼睛；我也看到了浸在酒杯里的那朵美丽的、残破的玫瑰花。它是一切花中最幸运的一朵花！我知道这！我敢于这样说！”
花园里玫瑰树上的玫瑰花都有它自己的历史。每朵玫瑰花相信，同时也认为自己是最幸运的，而这种信心也使得它们幸福。不过最后的那朵玫瑰花认为自己是最幸运的。
“我比起大家来活得最久！我是最后的、唯一的、妈妈最喜爱的孩子！”
“而我却是这些孩子的妈妈！”玫瑰篱笆说。
“我是它们的妈妈！”太阳光说。
“我是的，”风儿和天气说。
“每个人都有份！”风儿说，“而且每个人将从它们那里得到自己的一份！”于是风儿就使叶子在篱笆上散开，让露水滴着，让太阳照着，“我也要得到我的一份，”风儿说。“我得到了所有玫瑰花的故事；我将把这些故事在这个广大的世界里传播出去！请告诉我，它们之中谁是最幸运的？是的，你们说呀；我已经说得不少了！”
这篇小品，最初发表在哥本哈根出版的 1868年1月 26日的《新闻画报》上。“谁是最幸运的？”安徒生提出这个问题。他在答案中否定了这个“最”字。“每个人都有份，而且每个人将从它们那里得到自己的一份。”这也是安徒生所具有的*主义精神的一种表现。
