欧亨利最后一片叶子Behrman英文评论论文thelastleaf[修改版]

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最后一片叶子(中英对照)[修改版]

第一篇：最后一片叶子(中英对照)最后一片叶子（欧亨利小说）编辑《最后一片叶子》，一译《最后的常春藤叶》，主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼。

文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德，展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。

最后一片叶子”的故事，着实让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番，为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回，为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。

作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写，刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象，讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。

书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf 装帧平装开本16目录1作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析1作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日，美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利（O.Henry）出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。

曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。

1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。

父亲是医生。

他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。

他所受教育不多，15岁便开始在药房当学徒，20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人，积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。

1884年以后做过会计员、土地局办事员、新闻记者。

此后，他在德克萨斯做过不同的工作，包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。

他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊，并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。

1887年，亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。

正当他的生活颇为安定之时，却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。

1896年，奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。

他为了躲避受审，逃往洪都拉斯。

1897年，后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱，判处5年徒刑。

在狱中曾担任药剂师，他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物，但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名，乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名，在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。

【英文原版小说】欧·亨利短篇小说-TheLastLeaf最后一片叶子

The Last Leaf最后一片叶子IIn a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'h?te of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers.Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow."She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well.Has she anything on her mind?""She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue."Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away.An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy.There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie.""Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self." "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe.He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade."Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.Wearily Sue obeyed.But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground."It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time.""Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to itsstem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves. When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.The ivy leaf was still there.Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove."I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."And hour later she said:"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left. "Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all."I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里，街道都横七竖八地伸展开去，又分裂成一小条一小条的“胡同”。

最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析

最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析
《The Last Leaf》是美国著名作家奥恩斯坦伯格创作的美丽感人的短篇小说。

乔瓦
尼（Johnsy）是一位很有天赋的艺术家，但是在秋日中患上恶劣的肺病，体重急剧减轻，
急需抢救。

不久，她的生命垂危，她定义了一个游戏，他说第一片枯黄的叶子从枝头掉下
来她就会离开人世。

格伦（Behme）是一个年遽长老，他对乔瓦尼极为关心。

当他看到乔瓦尼这样迟期把
临终之交，心里孤寂而震动。

夜里，他独自去散步，就像在接受抗争的考验。

夜晚，他偷
偷爬到楼上，用他的老手拼拼凑凑描绘出一片绿叶，藏在乔瓦尼的窗外，并献给她。

当乔瓦尼从绝病中苏醒，她惊叹窗外一片翠绿叶子，而这片绿叶不仅意味着她的生命
即将延续，更代表了格伦对他的无私付出。

从《The Last Leaf》我们可以感受到作者给我们传达出来的含义：勇敢地面对挫折，勇往直前，克服困境，积极面对生活，不断努力，永不放弃，不要轻言放弃。

最后，《The Last Leaf》向我们展示了无私的爱，让我们见证了爱的奇妙与力量。

无论一个人处于怎样的境况，都可以带来爱的温暖和模范的精神。

最后一片叶子的英语论文

Analysis of O. Henr y’s The Last LeafAbstract:O. Henry was the pen name of American writer William Sydney Porter (September 11, 1862–June 5, 1910), whose clever use of twist endings in his stories popularized the term "O. Henry Ending". His middle name at birth was Sidney, not Sydney; he later changed the spelling of his middle name when he first began writing as a journalist in the 1880s.O. Henry’s stories are mainly about the insignificant persons from the bottom of the society. His works are written in vivid and lively language. He was good at creating humorous plots by the use of puns, homonyms, quotations etc.The Last Leaf is one of O. Henry’s representative works, a classic of short stories. It has been very popular since published. At the end of this story, he brings to light the theme of the story and infuses a great power into the readers’ hearts. The theme of this story is definitely self-sacrifice. Mr. Behrman sacrificed his own health for johnsy. Sometimes you should never judge someone by what they appear to be, but by their actions. Behrman acts fierce and aggressive, but his actions show how much he cares about Johnsy.Body:1.IntroductionThe Last Leaf is one of O. Henry’s representative works. It tells the story happened among the young girls Johnsy, Sue and the old painter Behrman. Johnsy is afflicted with pneumonia. Her only hope for living is on the ivy leaves on the brick wall of the opposite house. The leaves are fighting against the strong wind and the heavy rain, just like sick Johnsy. To save Johnsy from the horrible illness, Sue tries hard to take care of her and encourages her. However, with more leaves falling down, Johnsy was getting worse. Death will definitely ruin her when the last leaf falls off the ivy vine. In order to help Johnsy survive, the old painter Behrman who lives downstairs paints a leaf on the wall, and finally it becomes the last leaf. Thanks to that leaf, Johnsy defeats the illness and soon recovers. Nevertheless, old Behrman got pneumonia from a cold when he was painting the leaf. In the story The Last Leaf, O. Henry fully shows his intelligence and talent. He creates very vivid characters in his own way of writing. With his description, the scenes in the story seem to play in front ofthe readers’ eyes. Using contradictions, he arouses the reader’s interests and curiosity with very attractive plots. The unexpected ending leads the readers to suddenly realize the profound significance of this work.2. Literature reviewO. Henry was an ordinary person from an ordinary American family. What make him so unique are his life experiences. The relationship between O. Henry’s life experiences and his writing style has attracted a lot of people to explore. With their persistent efforts, O. Henry’s li fe experiences are not mysteries anymore. His life was full of unpleasant things, whereas due to which he achieved outstanding intelligence and talents. His experience was the foundation of his future development in writing, and also the source of his crea tion. O. Henry’s works are usually fresh and unique. To write such successful works, he had his own way. Contrast is one of his weapons to create vivid characters; another weapon to express the feelings is his brief and clear wording.The Last Leaf, a representative work of the famous short-story writer O. Henry, has been studied from different aspects. It tells the story among two young girls Johnsy, Sue and an old painter Behrman. It glorifies true love in the world by the narration of old Behrman’s and Sue’s love, care and help for Johnsy. By the portrayal of the living environment and living status of the three main characters, it reveals that American people were in ―The Gilded Age‖. And by contrast it shows the love and care between the poor. The ending of this work is unexpected but reasonable. It guides the readers to suddenly realize what happen and then get the theme of the story. The ―O. Henry ending‖ makes the substance of the work even more significant, it leaves a pleasant aftertaste for readers. ―The famous American short-story writer O. Henry creates an illustrious image of a poor and old painter who sacrifices himself to save a young girl’s life in The Last Leaf. The love and the humanity he praises is similar to the core of Confucianism —Ben evolence.‖ (Li, 2009: 67). Confucianism thinks that a person with lofty ideals has no fear of death. On the contrary, he has the courage to sacrifice for benevolence. What we can see from old Behrman is the essence of Confucianism, ―benevolence‖ and ―loving people‖. The Last Leaf of O. Henry lights up the hope of the confused modern people. It reminds us of love and harmony which are the foundations of a society.3. O. Henry’s writing features1)O. Henry’s works usually tell the story of insignificant people, while showing great humanitarianism. Over a long period of time, O. Henry lived in the bottom of society, he knew how tough life could be for people from underclass, and he knew how cruel the law could be to poor people. Therefore, he showed great sympathy for the poor. In his work, the poor are usually of good qualities. They have pure and kind hearts, they can get true and deep love, but they are weak and small, helpless, starving, homeless, always frustrated by fate and tortured by society. This kind of unfairness is a strong contrast to the prosperous upper class. It reflects the writer’s indignation because of the injustice.2) Metaphor is an outstanding feature of O. Henry’s writing in this work. The last leaf is the main thread which goes through the whole story, and also the key to revealing the theme of it.First, it means the greatest achievement for the old painter Behrman. Before painting this leaf, Behrman never paints any satisfactory work. From painting, he dose not even make enough money for life. Although this painting is just a leaf, it saves a young girl’s life from the hand of illness. It is the most successful painting and the greatest accomplishment of art in his life.It is the sign of life. The ivy leaves on the brick wall are being devastated by the aggressive wind and rain, just like Johnsy is suffering from fearful illness. That is why Johnsy places her hope all on those leaves. The last leaf is not a real one, but for Johnsy it is so powerful. It survives the wind and rain, staying on the wall with passion for life. It supports Johnsy’s faith and helps her defeats the illness.It is a symbol of love and care. It is just a painting, but it costs Behrman’s life. With his own life, he tries to wake up Johnsy’s fai th and strength. The last leaf carries Behrman’s unselfish love and care for Johnsy.3) The ―O. Henry ending‖ is the most famous and typical writing feature of O. Henry. In his works, everything goes on very normally until the coming of the ending. Readers are unconsciously led to the maze he designs. And then, suddenly, the ending comes. Like the lightning, it lights up everything which is hidden before. Usually, the surprising ending is comforting. Even if it is a sad ending, it has the bright side. Before O. Henry, some other short-story writers also tried the unexpected ending, but O. Henry is the one who made it natural and ingenious.When we are about to finish reading the story, we may still think that it has a happy ending. We may feel happy for Johnsy. However, right when we think that it ends upperfectly, the real ending comes. That is, Behrman dies. Meanwhile, we realize that the last leaf is not a real one; it is painted by old Behrman who sacrifices his life for it. The happy ending we expect could only be our expectation. With everything coming to light, our expectation is broken, and our feelings burst out. Readers’ feelings are all led by O. Henry. They feel sorry for Behrman and feel touched by him. Further, they can better understand the characters and the great significance of the theme.。

英语专业毕业论文--以《最后一片叶子》为例论欧·亨利的创作风格

On O’Henry’s Writing Style Exemplified byThe Last LeafByXin KesiSupervisor: Lecturer Wang HaoA Thesis Submitted to School of Foreign LanguagesOf Handan College in Partial FulfillmentOf the Requirement for the DegreeOf Bachelor of ArtsHandan, ChinaMay, 2010郑重声明本人的毕业论文是在指导教师王颢的指导下独立撰写完成的。

如有剽窃、抄袭、造假等违反学术道德、学术规范和侵权的行为，本人愿意承担由此产生的各种后果，直至法律责任，并愿意通过网络接受公众的监督。

特此郑重声明。

毕业论文作者：年月日AcknowledgementsI would like to avail myself of this opportunity to express my sincere thanks to all those who have offered me help in my thesis writing. First of all, my thanks are particularly extended to my supervisor, Lecturer, Wang Hao, whose inspiring insights, generous encouragements, and enthusiastic instructions have facilitated me much throughout my thesis writing. Her penetrating and insightful comments afford me with inspiring source. She has been in constant concern about my paper, spared no pains to entertain my thesis draft. She also teaches me the format of the thesis. She has walked me through all the stages of the writing of this thesis. Without her consistent and illuminating instruction, this thesis could not have reached its present form. I would also like to extend my sincere thanks to the Foreign Language Department of Handan College as well as all my teachers. Thanks to their instructive guidance and comprehensive education during the four years‟ schooling, I can acquire the opportunity to further study English. And I want to thank my parents. It is them who brought me up and give me financial support through my college life. Finally, my great gratitude also goes to all my friends, especially my roommates who gave me their help and time in listening to me and helping me work out my problems during the difficult course of the thesis.AbstractO‟Henry is one of the most famous American short story writers in the early 20th century. In his legendary life, he offers the innumerable artistic stories for the readers by his uniquely “O‟Henry technique”. “O‟Henry technique” is a big magic weapon by which this artistic master makes his great success, also leaves the readers a huge wealth. The Last Leaf is one of the masterpieces of O‟Henry. This short story tells a story about three poor artists. The bittersweet story involves Johnsy, a young artist who is suffering from a severe case of pneumonia and has lost her will to live, though Sue gives her close care. However, Behrman provides the ultimate gift to Johnsy, and in doing so, saves her life, but loses his own life.This thesis analyzes the writing styles of this short story through three levels: language, structure and characterization. Chapter One studies the language features, showing O‟Hen ry is a master of language. Chapter Two analyzes the structure features from two parts: the unexpected ending and “plot blank”. Chapter Three discusses the characterization features from the psychological portrayal, behavior portrayal, language portrayal and appearance portrayal. By doing this, this thesis shows O‟Henry‟s unique role in the literary world.Key Words: style language structure characterization摘要欧·亨利是20世纪初美国最著名的短篇小说家之一。

最后一片叶子英文原文

最后一片叶子英文原文In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow."She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?""She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue."Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie.""Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk pasta new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self.""You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especialmastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade."Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.Wearily Sue obeyed.But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground."It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time.""Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming ofthe night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.The ivy leaf was still there.Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove."I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."And hour later she said:"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left."Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all."I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."基本简介：真实姓名：威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)笔名：欧·亨利(O.Henry)生卒年代：1862.9.11-1910.6.5美国著名批判现实主义作家，世界三大短篇小说大师之一。

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文

The Last Leaf and the Power of HopeIn the heart of a bustling city, amidst the cold grip of winter, lay a lonely street known for its bleak, bare trees. One particular apartment building on this street housed a group of artists, each fighting their own battles with life. Among them was a young woman named Sue, an aspiring painter whose world was slowly fading away due to an undiagnosed illness. Her world had become a canvas of grays and whites, with no color to brighten her days.As the days grew shorter and the weather colder, the trees outside Sue's window lost their leaves, leaving only barren branches against the bleak winter sky. To Sue, these trees mirrored her own life, stripped of all hope and vitality. Each falling leaf seemed to represent a piece of her life slipping away.One day, while looking out of her window, Sue noticed an old man painting a vibrant mural on the side of the building opposite her. His paintings were full of life and color, a stark contrast to the gray world outside. As days passed, the mural transformed into a vibrant forest, with trees full of green leaves and birds singing among them.Sue's heart warmed as she looked at the mural, and slowly, her world began to change. The color and life in the mural brought a spark of hope back into her eyes. She started painting again, using the mural as inspiration, and soon her own paintings were full of the same vitality and color.Little did Sue know that the old man painting the mural was actually her neighbor, an elderly artist named John. John had noticed Sue's declining spirits and decided to take action. He knew that hope was the only thing that could save her, and he hoped that his mural would be the spark that lit the fire of life within her again.As the weeks progressed, Sue's health began to improve, and she even managed to complete a painting of her own version of the forest mural. Her doctors were amazed at her recovery and attributed it to the power of her newfound hope and positivity.One fateful day, a severe storm hit the city, and strong winds tore through the apartment building, ripping off most of the mural. Sue, devastated, felt as if all her hope had been lost once again.However, when she looked closely, she saw that one leaf, the last leaf on the tallest tree in the mural, had miraculously survived the storm. That one leaf, in themidst of the chaos and destruction, represented the indomitable spirit of hope within Sue. She realized that hope was not something that could be destroyed easily, and that even in the face of adversity, there was always a reason to fight.With renewed strength and determination, Sue began to paint again, using the last leaf as a symbol of her own resilience and hope. Her paintings were now filled with a deeper meaning, a testament to the power of hope in theface of adversity.And so, in the heart of that cold city, a young woman found the strength to fight her illness and the courage to believe in herself again. All because of one simple leaf, a symbol of hope that refused to die, even in the face of the harshest winter storms.**希望的力量与最后一片树叶**在繁忙的城市中心，冬季的寒冷笼罩下，有一条以光秃秃的树木而闻名的荒凉街道。

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文

The Last Leaf and the Power of HopeIn the cold and unforgiving winter of New York City, a tale of hope and resilience unfolded in the heart of Washington Square. It was a story that captured the essence of human spirit and the remarkable power of a single leaf. One fateful November day, a young artist named Sue suffered from a severe case of pneumonia, leaving her weak and vulnerable. Her roommate, Johanna, did her best to nurse her back to health, but the prognosis was grim. The doctors had given Sue little chance of survival, and the cold winter winds seemed to confirm their verdict. As the days wore on, Sue's condition worsened, and she lost all hope.In a moment of despair, Sue fixated on a vine outside her window, its leaves a symbol of life and hope. As the winter progressed, the leaves slowly fell, one by one,until only one remained. To Sue, that last leaf was a beacon of hope, a promise that life would persist. She clung to the idea that as long as the leaf held on, she too would find the strength to fight.But as the days grew shorter and colder, the leaf seemed to be hanging by a thread. Sue's hope dimmed, and her grip on life loosened. It was then that a mysterious man, known only as "the painter," stepped into the scene. He saw Sue's desperation and decided to take action. In the dead of night, he scaled the wall outside her window and painstakingly painted a perfect leaf on the vine, giving Sue a reason to believe that life would go on.As days passed, the painted leaf held fast, and Sue's hope was renewed. She found the strength to fight her illness, and gradually, her condition improved. The doctors were amazed at her recovery, attributing it to the奇迹般的power of her will.Johanna, meanwhile, discovered the truth behind the miracle leaf. She realized that it was not a real leaf, but a masterpiece of art, painted with love and compassion. She was overwhelmed with gratitude towards the painter, who had anonymously saved Sue's life.In the end, the painter's identity remained a mystery, but his kindness and compassion left an indelible mark on the lives of Sue and Johanna. They learned that hope isoften a fragile thing, but it is also the most powerful force in the world. It can sustain us in the darkest hours and give us the strength to overcome even the most insurmountable obstacles.The last leaf, a symbol of hope and resilience, taught them that life is worth fighting for, even when it seems impossible to hold on. And so, as the winter drew to a close, and spring began to bloom, Sue and Johanna looked out their window at the vine, and saw not just a leaf, but a promise of a new beginning, a fresh start, and a future filled with hope and possibility.**最后一片树叶与希望的力量**在纽约市寒冷而不容情的冬天里，华盛顿广场中心上演了一个关于希望与坚韧的故事。

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文

The Last Leaf and the Power of BeliefAmidst the bleak winter landscape, a solitary treestood tall, its branches stripped bare by the ruthless寒风. Its companions had succumbed to the icy grasp of winter, leaving only its own naked limbs to brave the cold. Butwhat was most remarkable about this tree was not its resilience but the single leaf that clung stubbornly to its topmost branch, defying the odds.In the nearby apartment building, a room was shroudedin darkness. A woman lay motionless on the bed, her face turned towards the window. She had been struck down by a cruel illness, her spirit as dim as the room around her.All hope seemed lost until one day, a neighbor, an old painter, noticed the lonely leaf outside his window."Look at that last leaf," he said to the woman. "It's holding on for you. As long as it doesn't fall, you must hold on too."The woman's eyes lit up with a spark of life. She began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, she too could defy death's icy grasp. Day after day, she looked out the window,watching that solitary leaf bravely hold on. And with each passing day, her strength returned, her spirit lifted.But as spring drew near, the leaf began to wither and finally, one windy night, it fell. The woman, though, had regained her fighting spirit. She knew that the leaf had been a symbol of her own resilience and had given her the strength to battle her illness.The old painter had secretly painted a new leaf on the night the old one fell, ensuring that the woman's faith would not be broken. His kindness and compassion had saveda life, teaching us all a valuable lesson about the powerof belief and the impact one small act of kindness can have. **最后一片树叶与信念的力量**在荒凉的冬日风景中，一棵孤独的树高高耸立，它的枝条被无情的寒风剥得光秃秃的。

《最后一片叶子》英文版读后感范文

《最后一片叶子》英文版读后感范文The Last Leaf: A Haunting Tale of Mortality and Resilience"The Last Leaf," written by O. Henry, is a short story that conveys a powerful message about mortality and resilience. The story takes place in an apartment building in Greenwich Village, New York City, where two young artists, Sue and Johnsy, live. The story is narrated in the third-person from Sue's point of view.When Johnsy becomes ill with pneumonia, she loses the will to live and becomes obsessed with counting the falling leaves from a vine outside their window. She believes that when the last leaf falls, she will die. Sue tries to convince her out of her despair, but her efforts are in vain.Meanwhile, a gruff old painter who lives on the ground floor, Behrman, is inspired by Johnsy's determination to create his masterpiece. Despite his poor health and a lifetime of failures, Behrman climbs a ladder in the rain to paint a single leaf on the vine outside Sue and Johnsy's window, the "last leaf" that Johnsy is fixated on.The next morning, when Johnsy sees the last leaf still on the vine, she regains her will to live and begins to recover. However, Sue and Behrman soon discover that the reason the last leaf did not fall was that it was painted by Behrman, who caught pneumonia from being out in the rain and died soon after completing his masterpiece."The Last Leaf" is a haunting tale that explores the theme ofmortality and the resilience of the human spirit. Through Johnsy's illness and her obsession with the falling leaves, O. Henry captures the fear of death that grips us all at one point or another in our lives. Sue's attempts to comfort and reassure Johnsy highlight the power of human connection and the comfort that we can provide to each other in times of despair.However, it is Behrman's sacrifice that is the most poignant aspect of the story. He is willing to risk his life to give Johnsy the hope that she needs to survive. His role as an artist, who is able to create something beautiful in the face of death, underscores the power of art to transcend the limits of mortality.Overall, "The Last Leaf" is a powerful story that reminds us of the fragility of life and the importance of resilience, connection, and creativity in facing our mortality.As Johnsy recovers, both she and Sue are devastated by the news of Behrman's death. They realize that Behrman had painted the leaf in the rain the previous night in a selfless act of kindness. The leaf, which Johnsy believed was the last leaf, was not real at all, but a product of Behrman's imagination and brushstrokes.This revelation is a turning point for both Johnsy and Sue. They realize that life is fleeting and unpredictable, and that it is up to us to make the most of the time we have. Behrman had always wanted to create something that would live on after he was gone, and in a way, he had succeeded. His painting had not only given Johnsy the will to live, but had also given her and Sue a renewed appreciation for life itself.The story's powerful message is that the human spirit is capable of great resilience and creativity, even in the face of death. The leaf that Behrman painted may not have been real, but it was his imagination and artistic talent that had brought it to life. Similarly, Johnsy's recovery is a testament to the power of the human will to overcome adversity.As the story ends, Sue and Johnsy are left to mourn the loss of Behrman, but also to celebrate his life and legacy. They realize that his painting will continue to inspire and uplift others, just as it had done for them. In this way, the story of "The Last Leaf" is a celebration of life and the human spirit, even in the face of death. In conclusion, "The Last Leaf" is a haunting tale that reminds us of the fragility of life and the importance of resilience, creativity, and connection in facing our mortality. The story's powerful message is that we are all capable of creating something beautiful and enduring, even in the face of death. Behrman's sacrifice and legacy inspire us to make the most of the time we have, and to cherish the connections we make with others along the way.。

欧亨利最后一片叶子续写英语作文

欧亨利最后一片叶子续写英语作文The Last Leaf Continuation by O. HenryIn the still of the winter night, the cold wind whispered its secrets through the bare branches of the trees. The last remaining leaf on the ivy-covered wall hung tenuously, resisting the relentless pull of gravity and the cruelty of the season. It was a symbol of hope, a beacon in the bleakness, and for Sue and Johnsy, it represented a promise of life.As the days wore on, Johnsy's condition improved slowly but steadily. The doctors were amazed at her resilience and her strong will to live. They attributed it to the miracle of modern medicine, but Sue knew the truth. It was that last leaf, hanging on stubbornly against all odds, that gave Johnsy the courage to fight.One morning, as Sue peeked through the curtains, she saw something that made her heart skip a beat. The last leaf was gone. It had finally succumbed to the forces of nature, falling in the dead of night, without anyone noticing. Sue's heart sank, knowing that Johnsy would see it as a sign of her own inevitable demise.Quickly, Sue gathered her things and hurried out into the street. She knew what she had to do. She had to replace that leaf, to give Johnsy hope once again. She found a painted leaf, a perfect replica of the one that had fallen, and carefully affixed it to the wall.When Johnsy awoke and saw the leaf still hanging there, her face lit up with a smile. She knew that the leaf was a sign, a promise that she would live. And with that, her spirit lifted, and her recovery sped up.Weeks passed, and Johnsy's health improved dramatically. She and Sue celebrated the turn of the season and the arrival of spring, knowing that they had overcome the winter of their lives.And so, the story of the last leaf continues, a testament to the power of hope and the resilience of the human spirit. In the face of adversity, we find strength within ourselves, and in the smallest of things, we find reason to believe and to fight. Just as that last leaf hung tenaciously on the wall, giving Sue and Johnsy a reason to hope, so can we find our own reasons to persevere and to believe in ourselves.。

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文English:As I sat under the tree, watching the last leaf prepare to fall, I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia and sadness. The tree had been my friend, my confidante, for so many years, and now it was shedding its final leaf, signaling the end of our time together. I thought back on all the memories we had shared - the laughter, the tears, the whispered secrets. The tree had been a constant presence in my life, a symbol of strength and resilience. And now, as it stood bare and exposed, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear at what the future held. But as the leaf finally let go and drifted to the ground, a sense of peace washed over me. The tree may have lost its leaves, but it still stood strong and proud, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And I knew that no matter what happened, the memories of our time together would always remain in my heart.中文翻译:当我坐在树下，看着最后一片叶子准备落下时，我忍不住感到一丝怀旧和悲伤。

欧亨利最后一片叶子续写英语作文

欧亨利最后一片叶子续写英语作文The Last Leaf" is a short story by O. Henry that tells the tale of two young artists, Johnsy and Sue, living in Greenwich Village. Johnsy falls ill with pneumonia and becomes convinced that she will die when the last leaf falls from the vine outside her window. The story focuses on the power of hope and friendship, as Sue enlists the help of their neighbor, Behrman, to paint a leaf on the vine in order to save Johnsy's life.As the days pass, Johnsy's belief that she will die when the last leaf falls becomes stronger and stronger. She watches as the leaves outside her window gradually wither and fall to the ground, until only one leaf remains. Sue tries to convince Johnsy that the leaf will not fall, but Johnsy remains convinced that her fate is sealed.Meanwhile, Behrman, the old artist who lives downstairs, becomes increasingly worried about Johnsy's health. He knows that the last leaf on the vine outside her window is dying, and he is desperate to save her. One night, as a fierce storm rages outside, Behrman sneaks out of his apartment and paints a new leaf on the vine, hoping to trick Johnsy into believing that it is still there.The next morning, Johnsy wakes up feeling better than she has in days. She looks out the window and sees the painted leaf on the vine, still clinging to its branch despite the storm. Overjoyed, she realizes that she has been given a second chance at life, and vows to never give up hope again.In the weeks that follow, Johnsy's health steadily improves, and she and Sue continue to paint and create art together. Behrman is hailed as a hero for his selfless act of kindness, and the three friends form a tight bond that will last a lifetime."The Last Leaf" is a heartwarming tale of love, friendship, and the power of hope. It reminds us that even in our darkest moments, we should never give up on ourselves or those we care about. The story teaches us that a single act of kindness can change someone's life, and that the bonds of friendship can never be broken. It is a timeless classic that will continue to inspire readers for generations to come.。

最后一片叶子死去后续写英语作文

最后一片叶子死去后续写英语作文The Last Leaf FallingAfter Mr. Behrman passed away painting the last leaf on the wall across from my bedroom, things were never quite the same. Sue and I were so grateful to have recovered from our terrible illnesses, but we felt a deep sadness over the loss of our kind and eccentric old neighbor.The little old ivy vine he had painted that last leaf on continued to grow over the years, covering more and more of the brick wall. Sometimes when I would look out the window at it, I could almost make out the outline of that solitary leaf among the twisting vines. It served as a reminder of Mr. Behrman's selfless act and lifelong pursuit of his art.As I grew older, I came to understand more deeply the significance of what he had done that cold November night. Giving up his own life to create that tiniest bit of hope and beauty was the greatest expression of devotion to one's craft that I can imagine. From that moment on, I saw art in a whole new light.Sue and I spent countless hours throughout our childhood playing artists, painting little masterpieces on any scrap of paperor canvas we could find. We worshipped at the altar of art, inspired by Mr. Behrman's example. As teenagers, we began taking formal art classes, much to the confusion of our parents who struggled to understand this passion of ours.After high school, Sue went off to pursue a degree in fine arts, while I enrolled in an art education program. My dream was to one day teach art to young students and inspire them the way Mr. Behrman's final act had inspired me. I spent my college years painting furiously, trying to capture the spirit and meaning of that ivy-covered wall.Upon graduating, I was thrilled to land a job teaching elementary art in the very same neighborhood where Mr. Behrman had lived and worked. Every day on my way to school, I would pass by the aged brick building where he had breathed his last breath leaning out a window to paint a leaf. The vine had grown thick and consumed the entire wall, but I liked to think some tiny remnant of his final brushstroke remained underneath, beating like a heart.My first year teaching was everything I had dreamed - sharing my passion for art with young, inquisitive minds. More than just teaching techniques though, I wanted to instill in mystudents an appreciation for the spiritual importance of creative expression.In the spring, I gave my students a huge assignment - I told them they would each create a large mural celebrating an artist who had inspired them in some way. I provided biographical information on different artists throughout history, including the story of the old painter who lost his life creatingthat final ivy leaf.One young boy became absolutely captivated by Mr. Behrman's tale. Anthony was a quiet, somewhat sullen kid who didn't typically show much enthusiasm for our art projects. But the story of sacrificing everything for your creative drive struck a chord with him. Week after week, Anthony would ask me more and more questions about Mr. Behrman as he planned and prepared his mural panel.Finally, it came time for the students to unveil their finished mural pieces. One by one, they presented their creations honoring Picasso, Kahlo, Warhol, and other iconic artists. When it was Anthony's turn, he walked up and dramatically dropped the cloth covering his panel.I was stunned by what I saw. In a swirling, impressionistic style completely unlike his usual tight, controlled technique, Anthony had painted a jumbled mass of tangled vines and leavescovering a brick wall. In the very center was a solitary leaf, shining like a beacon in swirling colors and thick layers of paint. It seemed to be illuminating from within, simultaneously part of the surrounding chaos yet distinct and alive in its own right.As I stared at this remarkable painting, Anthony explained in his soft, nervous voice "This is for Mr. Behrman. The guy who made that last leaf so sick people would have hope to get better.I thought if he could make one little leaf be so important by putting everything into it, maybe I could make one big important leaf too."In that moment, I knew Mr. Behrman's final masterpiece had traveled through time and space to influence this young boy. The passion, the sacrifice, the sheer power of creation - it had all been channeled through Anthony's brushstrokes onto this mural panel. Here was the essence of what drove that troubled old man in his final act, reborn and carried into the future through art.Tears streamed down my face as I embraced Anthony and celebrated his profound achievement with the class. From that day on, I re-committed myself to honoring Mr. Behrman's memory by being the best possible teacher and caretaker of young artists I could be.Now, decades later, I can look back onmy long career with immense pride and fulfillment. I had the great privilege of shaping thousands of budding artists and nurturing their creative spirits. And while I've had the opportunity to create many paintings and murals of my own over the years, it is Anthony's piece all those years ago that matters most to me.That swirling, frenetic, yet centered and life-affirming bundle of paint and canvas spoke across generations to the transformative power of art in a way that no words could capture. In those layers of color was the very essence of why we create - to spark hope, joy and perseverance against all odds.The old ivy vine covered in the last leaf faded away long ago, along with the brick buildings and windows it was attached to. But its spirit, along with the tenacity of eccentric old artists who would give anything to keep that spirit burning bright, has become immortal.It lives on classroom projects carefully composed by young minds experiencing the lightning of inspiration for the first time. It flows through the brushstrokes of passionate teachers and painters finding new ways to share and create meaning. And ultimately, it resides in the souls of untold numbers who havebeen touched by the transformative power of artistic expression to comfort, motivate and beautify this world.So while the literal last leaf may be gone, its spiritual energy has replicated and reproduced across canvas after canvas, classroom after classroom, generation after generation. Its message to embrace creative drive at all costs while sharing hope and resilience with those around you is one that will echo on infinitely.By teaching scores of young artists and leading them down that path of creative courage, I know I have done my part to immortalize that enduring and precious last leaf. And I will never stop working to keep its inspiration growing lush and thriving for many more tomorrows to come.。

最后一片叶子死去后续写英语作文

最后一片叶子死去后续写英语作文The Last Leaf's LegacyAfter Mr. Behrman died painting the last leafy masterpiece on the wall, our little neighborhood was never the same again. I was only eight years old at the time, but the impact of his final act of kindness left a lasting imprint on my young mind.Mr. Behrman had been a classic neighborhood eccentric. With his shaggy grey hair, bushy eyebrows, and an old beat-up suit that looked like it had seen better days a century ago, he certainly stood out on our block of tidy brownstones. Most folks just thought he was a lonely old painter without any talent or money. Little did we know the act of artistic genius he had secretly prepared for Miss Johnsy.Miss Johnsy was a young woman who got dreadfully ill that winter. She was absolutely convinced she would die when the last ivy leaf fell from the old vine outside her window. Mr. Behrman heard about her silly superstition and decided to take matters into his own hands.That fateful night when the last leaf blew away in the freezing rain, the gruff but big-hearted Mr. Behrman went outside with his painting supplies. He stood in the bitter cold forhours using his brushes and talent to paint a single perfect leaf on the brick wall across from Miss Johnsy's window. His artistry was so skilled that the painted leaf looked completely real in the morning light. Thanks to Mr. Behrman's trick, Miss Johnsy regained her will to recover and pulled through after all.Sadly, that effort took everything Mr. Behrman had. He caught a bad case of pneumonia from being out in the storm all night at his old age. Within a couple weeks, the painter we had all misjudged as a failure breathed his last breath. But his parting gift of hope opened all our eyes to the priceless beauty of selflessness.After Mr. Behrman passed away, a hush fell over our little neighborhood. We were ashamed at how we had looked down on the kindly old man for so many years. Here was someone with barely a penny to his name who valued a young woman's life more than his own. While others walked by Miss Johnsy's window without a second thought to her fading spirit, Mr. Behrman saw the situation for what it was – a call that he alone could answer with his hidden talents.The memorial service for Mr. Behrman was held at the neighborhood chapel and drew a unexpectedly large crowd. Young and old, rich and poor, we all came to pay our respects. Inthe days after his passing, parents told their children about Mr. Behrman's good deed like a modern parable. His selfless act became a reminder that a person's wealth and impact have little to do with their bank account or profession. True richness comes from the goodness in one's heart.I don't think any of us kids at the time fully understood the world of poverty and pain Mr. Behrman had clearly endured. Now as an adult, I see how he could have easily turned bitter and angry at the cold realities of his harsh life. Yet he never stopped caring about his neighbors and looking for ways to lift their spirits, even when his own were clearly lagging. That kind of boundless compassion is a virtue to aspire towards.In the decades since Mr. Behrman's passing, our little neighborhood has changed quite a bit. The old tenement apartments were renovated long ago. Fancy condos and restaurants have replaced the simple shops and businesses of our childhoods. Progress marches ever onward.But one thing that hasn't changed is the aura of warmth and community that Mr. Behrman's inspirational story helped create on our blocks. Newcomers are welcomed with open arms and qu ickly регaled with the tale of the last leaf. Acts of neighborly generosity are frequent and celebrated. A shared sense ofkindness binds our community together through all the changes of time.I'll never forget seeing that crisp, vibrant leaf glowing in the morning sunshine after Mr. Behrman's masterful all-night painting session. To this day, its brilliant image represents the power of hope over despair. Out of the darkest night and when all seems lost, one person's good deed can change everything. Mr. Behrman's brave and beautiful final brushstrokes will forever inspire me to spread more light wherever I go.So here's to you, dear neighbors. May we never forget the touching parable of our neighborhood's unlikeliest of heroes, Mr. Behrman the Leaf Painter. His legacy of kindness lives on in the warmth we share with our community every day. Sometimes all it takes is one shining symbolic leaf to rejuvenate the human spirit.。

欧亨利最后一片叶子续写英语作文

欧亨利最后一片叶子续写英语作文The Last Leaf is a famous short story written by O. Henry that explores themes of sacrifice, hope, and friendship. In the story, a young artist named Johnsy becomes terminally ill with pneumonia and loses the will to live. Her only hope is a vine with the last few leaves clinging to it outside her window. When the last leaf falls, she believes she will die. However, her friend, Behrman, secretly paints a new leaf on the wall to give her hope and ultimately saves her life.In the continuation of the story, Johnsy recovers from her illness but is haunted by the memory of her near-death experience. She becomes more introspective and withdrawn, spending endless hours staring out the window at the leafless vine. Behrman, who had sacrificed his own life to save Johnsy, is deeply missed by the entire neighborhood. His selfless act of painting the last leaf has become a legend in Greenwich Village.As the seasons change and winter turns to spring, Johnsy's health improves but her spirit remains fragile. She struggles to find meaning in her life and wrestles with the question of why Behrman had to die for her. She visits his studio, still filled with his unfinished paintings and forgotten dreams, and is struck by the beauty and sadness of his work.One day, as Johnsy sits by the window watching the new leaves emerge on the vine, she is overcome with a sense of gratitude and grief. She realizes that Behrman's sacrifice was not in vain, for through his act of kindness, he had given her a second chance at life. She vows to honor his memory by living fully and embracing each day with gratitude and joy.In the end, Johnsy understands that the last leaf was not just a symbol of hope, but a reminder of the power of love and friendship. She learns to cherish the simple moments in life and to never take them for granted. And though Behrman is no longer with her, his legacy lives on in the hearts of those who were touched by his selfless act of kindness.The Last Leaf is a timeless story that speaks to the power of human connection and the resilience of the human spirit. It reminds us that even in our darkest moments, there is always hope and beauty to be found. As Johnsy learns to let go of her pain and embrace the beauty of life, she discovers that the last leaf was not the end, but a new beginning filled with infinite possibilities.。

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文

最后一片树叶欧亨利英语作文{z}Title: The Last LeafIn the harsh winter of New York City, two boarding house roommates, Sue and Johnsy, faced a life-and-death struggle.Johnsy, a beautiful and fragile artist, contracted pneumonia and was bedridden, while Sue, despite her own health issues, was by her side, offering unwavering support.Their landlord, Mr.贝尔，was a stingy and grouchy old man, yet he had a soft spot for his tenants.He often complained about their unpaid rent, but secretly delivered hot food to their doorstep.One day, Mr.贝尔noticed that the leaf on the branch outside Johnsy"s window was the only one left.It symbolized the tenacity of life in the face of adversity.As the days passed, the leaf hung on, becoming a source of hope and inspiration for Johnsy.Mr.贝尔decided to take matters into his own hands.He climbed the ladder, planning to shake the branch and make the leaf fall, reasoning that it would be easier for Johnsy to let go of her life if the last leaf succumbed to the harsh weather.However, as he grasped the branch, the leaf unexpectedly flew away, carried away by a gust of wind.In that moment, Mr.贝尔realized the significance of the leaf to Johnsy"s recovery.It represented her will to live and the resilience of the human spirit.He quickly returned to the ground, shaken and regretful.That night, Sue received a letter from Mr.贝尔, apologizing for his actions and expressing his profound admiration for the leaf and its power to inspire.He understood that sometimes, the smallest things in life can have the greatest impact.The next morning, as Johnsy looked out her window, she gasped in awe.A new leaf had emerged from the branch, vibrant and full of life.It was a sign of hope, reminding her that even in the darkest of times, life finds a way to persevere.Inspired by the leaf"s determination to survive, Johnsy fought her illness with renewed vigor.With Sue"s support and the leaf"s silent encouragement, she gradually recovered, eventually regaining her strength and passion for art.The last leaf became a symbol of resilience, unity, and the indomitable spirit of humanity.It taught everyone involved that in the face of adversity, even the smallest acts of kindness and hope can make a significant difference.As the story of the last leaf spread throughout the city, it became a reminder to all that no matter how challenging life may be, there is always hope.And sometimes, hope is found in the most unexpected places, like a tiny leaf clinging to a branch in the dead of winter.。

（整理）The_last_leaf（最后一片叶子中文翻译）

（整理）The_last_leaf（最后一片叶子中文翻译）The last leaf中文译文注：这是欧·亨利小说原文的中文译文，仅供参考。

在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里，街道都横七竖八地伸展开去，又分裂成一小条一小条的“胡同”。

这些“胡同”稀奇古怪地拐着弯子。

一条街有时自己本身就交叉了不止一次。

有一回一个画家发现这条街有一种优越性：要是有个收帐的跑到这条街上，来催要颜料、纸张和画布的钱，他就会突然发现自己两手空空，原路返回，一文钱的帐也没有要到！所以，不久之后不少画家就摸索到这个古色古香的老格林尼治村来，寻求朝北的窗户、18世纪的尖顶山墙、荷兰式的阁楼，以及低廉的房租。

然后，他们又从第六街买来一些蜡酒杯和一两只火锅，这里便成了“艺术区”。

苏和琼西的画室设在一所又宽又矮的三层楼砖房的顶楼上。

“琼西”是琼娜的爱称。

她俩一个来自缅因州，一个是加利福尼亚州人。

她们是在第八街的“台尔蒙尼歌之家”吃份饭时碰到的，她们发现彼此对艺术、生菜色拉和时装的爱好非常一致，便合租了那间画室。

那是5月里的事。

到了11月，一个冷酷的、肉眼看不见的、医生们叫做“肺炎”的不速之客，在艺术区里悄悄地游荡，用他冰冷的手指头这里碰一下那里碰一下。

在广场东头，这个破坏者明目张胆地踏着大步，一下子就击倒几十个受害者，可是在迷宫一样、狭窄而铺满青苔的“胡同”里，他的步伐就慢了下来。

肺炎先生不是一个你们心目中行侠仗义的老的绅士。

一个身子单薄，被加利福尼亚州的西风刮得没有血色的弱女子，本来不应该是这个有着红拳头的、呼吸急促的老家伙打击的对象。

然而，琼西却遭到了打击；她躺在一张油漆过的铁床上，一动也不动，凝望着小小的荷兰式玻璃窗外对面砖房的空墙。

一天早晨，那个忙碌的医生扬了扬他那毛茸茸的灰白色眉毛，把苏叫到外边的走廊上。

“我看，她的病只有十分之一的恢复希望，”他一面把体温表里的水银柱甩下去，一面说，“这一分希望就是她想要活下去的念头。

有些人好像不愿意活下去，喜欢照顾殡仪馆的生意，简直让整个医药界都无能为力。

最后一片叶子汉英互译作文

最后一片叶子汉英互译作文最后一片叶子汉英互译作文在生活、工作和学习中，说到作文，大家肯定都不陌生吧，借助作文可以提高我们的语言组织能力。

那么一般作文是怎么写的呢？以下是小编为大家整理的最后一片叶子汉英互译作文，欢迎阅读，希望大家能够喜欢。

TheLast Leaf is a short story written by O Henry, Settled in Greenwich Village. Itsdepicts characters and themes are typically of O Henry’s work.最后一片叶子是由住在格林威治村的欧亨利写的一个短篇故事。

它所描写的人物和主题是欧亨利的经典作品。

Johnsyhas fallen ill and is dying of pneumonia. She watches the leaves falling from thewindow of her room, and decides that when the last leaf drops, she will die,too. To encourage her, Mr. Behrman painted the last leaf in a stormy night buthe died of pneumonia because of his efforts in the storm.琼西已经生病了而且将要死于肺炎。

她从她房间的窗户上看着叶子坠落，并认定当最后一片叶子掉下来的时候，她就会死。

为了鼓励她，贝尔曼先生在一个风雨交加的夜晚画了最后一片叶子，但他却由于在风暴中的`努力而死于肺炎。

Thisis a sad story about sacrifice as well as a moving story about hope. Likewise,we can learn about something from this story, something that totally differentfrom each other.这是一个关于牺牲的伤感故事同时也是关于希望的感人故事。