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And all around, from the folds of the big velvet bed curtains, strange heads peered forth; some ugly, others lovely. These were all the Emperor's bad and good deeds looking at him now that Death sat on his heart.
周围有一些奇怪的脑袋从厚重的天鹅绒帐的褶皱里偷偷地探出来，有的很丑陋，有的很可爱。因为坐在他的胸部的是“死神”，他平生的恶行和善行在看着他。
"Do you remember this?" whispered one after the other. "Do you remember that?" Then they told him so much that the sweat ran from his forehead.
声音一个接一个地轻轻传来：“你记得这个吗？”“你记得那个吗？”接着，他们和皇帝说了很多话，汗水从皇帝的前额上流下来。
"I never knew that!" said the Emperor. "Music! Music! The big Chinese drum!" he called, "so that I won't hear everything they say!"
皇帝说：“我以前从不知道这个!”他喊道：“音乐！音乐！中国鼓！我不想听他们说的一切！”
And they kept on.
然而它们还是不停地在讲。
"Music! Music!" cried the Emperor. "My blessed little golden bird, sing, sing! I have given you gold and costly presents; I have even hung my golden slipper around your neck—sing now, sing!"But the bird stood still; no one was there to wind it up, and it couldn't sing without that; but Death kept on looking at the Emperor with his great hollow eyes, and all was so still, so terribly still.
“音乐！音乐！”皇帝叫喊起来。“你这只可爱的小金鸟儿，唱啊，唱啊！我曾送给你金子和贵重的礼品，我曾经亲自把我的金拖鞋挂在你的脖颈上——现在请唱呀，唱呀！”可是这只鸟儿站着动也不动一下，因为没人给它上发条，而它不上好发条就唱不出歌来。不过死神继续用他空洞的大眼睛盯着这位皇帝。四周一片静寂，可怕的静寂。
Just then the loveliest song sounded close by the window. It was the little live Nightingale that sat outside on a spray. It had heard of the Emperor's danger and had come to sing to him of comfort and hope.
正在这时，窗子那儿最美妙的歌声响起来了，这就是那只活生生的小夜莺。它站在外面的一根树枝上。它听说了皇帝的危险境况，为了给皇帝带来安慰和希望，它到这里唱歌。
