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1815年维也纳的秋天,金色的秋天。一天早晨,当小学教师的十八岁的舒柏特腋下挟着课本,手里拿着一枝盛开的野玫瑰,踏进一年级教堂。他把课本放在教桌上,然后举起手中的玫瑰。“孩子们,昨天我们阅读了歌德的诗《野玫瑰》。这是今天清晨在山间小路旁别人送给我的一支野玫瑰。”“啊,多可爱啊!”孩子们睁大眼睛望着那娇艳的花朵。眼中流露出赞赏、惊讶的神情。孩子们一张张稚气可爱的脸正象一小朵一小朵带露珠的含苞欲放的玫
Vienna autumn in 1815, golden autumn. One morning, as an elementary school teacher’s eighteen-year-old Schubert carried his textbook under his arm and a blooming wild rose in his hand, he stepped into the first-grade church. He put the textbook on the table, and then raised his hand rose. “Yesterday, children, we read Goethe’s poem” Wild Rose, “a wild rose given to me by the mountain trail early in the morning.” “Ah, how cute!” The children widened their eyes That beautiful flowers. Exposed in the eyes of appreciation, astonished look. The children a childlike cute face just like a small one with a small flower bud with dewdrop rose