once there reigned a queen，in whose garden were found the most glorious flowers at all seasons and from all the lands in the world；but especially she loved roses， and therefore she possessed the most various kinds of this flower，from the wild dog－rose， with the apple－scented green leaves， to the most splendid provence rose．they grew against the castle walls， wound themselves round pillars and window－frames， into the passages，and all along the ceiling in all the halls．and the roses were various in fragrance，form，and colour．
but care and sorrow dwelt in these halls：the queen lay upon a sick－bed， and the doctors declared that she must die．
“there is still one thing that can save her，”said the wisest of them．“bring her the loveliest rose in the world，the one which is the expression of the brightest and purest love；for if that is brought before her eyes ere they close，she will not die．”
and young and old came from every side with roses，the loveliest that bloomed in each garden；but they were not the right sort． the flower was to be brought out of the garden of love；but what rose was it there that expressed the highest and purest love？
and the poets sang of the loveliest rose in the world，and each one named his own； and intelligence was sent far round the land to every heart that beat with love，to every class and condition，and to every age．
“no one has till now named the flower，”said the wise man．“no one has pointed out the place where it bloomed in its splendour they are not the roses from the coffin of romeo and juliet，or from the walborg's grave，452though these roses will be ever fragrant in song and story．they ate not the roses that sprout forth from winkelried's bloodstained lances， from the blood that flows in a sacred cause from the breast of the hero who dies for his country；though no death is sweeter than this， and no rose redder than the blood that flows then． nor is it that wondrous flower， to cherish which man devotes， in a quiet chamber，many a sleepless night， and much of his fresh life—the magic flower of science.”
“i know where it blooms，” said a happy mother，who came with her tender child to the bed－side of the queen．“i know where the loveliest rose of the world is found！the rose that is the expression of the highest and purest love springs from the blooming cheeks of my sweet child when，strengthened by sleep，it opens its eyes and smiles at me with all its affection！”
“lovely is this rose；but there is still a lovelier，”said the wise man．
“yes，a far lovelier one，” said one of the women．“i have seen it， and a loftier， purer rose does not bloom， but it was pale like the petals of the tea-rose．i saw it on the cheeks of the queen. she had taken off her royal crown，and in the long dreary night she was carrying her sick child in her arms：she wept，kissed it，and prayed for her child as a mother prays in the hour of her anguish．”
“holy and wonderful in its might is the white rose of grief； but it is not the one we seek．”
“no，the loveliest rose of the world i saw at the altar of the lord，”said the good old bishop.“i saw it shine as if an angel's face had appeared． the young maidens went to the lord's table，and renewed the promise made at their baptism，and roses were blushing，and pale roses shining on their fresh cheeks．a young girl stood there；she looked with all the purity and love of her young spirit up to heaven：that was the expression of the highest and the purest love．”
“may she be blessed！”said the wise man；“but not one of you has yet named to me the loveliest rose of the world．”then the came into the room a child，the queen's 453little son．tears stood in his eyes and glistened on his cheeks：he carried a great open book， and the binding was of velvet， with great silver clasps．
“mother！”cried the little boy，“only hear what i have read．”
and the child sat by the bed－side， and read from the book of him who suffered death on the cross to save men，and even those who were not yet born．
“greater love there is not—”
and a roseate hue spread over the cheeks of the queen， and her eyes gleamed， for she saw that from the leaves of the book there bloomed the loveliest rose，that sprang from the blood of christ shed on the cross．
“i see it！”she said：“he who beholds this，the loveliest rose on earth，shall never die．”
世上最美丽的一朵玫瑰花
从前有一位权力很大的皇后。她的花园里种植着每季最美丽的、从世界各国移来的花。但是她特别喜爱玫瑰花，因此她有各种各色的玫瑰花：从那长着能发出苹果香味的绿叶的野玫瑰，一直到最可爱的、普洛望斯的玫瑰，样样都有。它们爬上宫殿的墙壁，攀着圆柱和窗架，伸进走廊，一直长到所有大殿的天花板上去，这些玫瑰有不同的香味、形状和色彩。
但是这些大殿里充满了忧虑和悲哀。皇后睡在病床上起不来；御医宣称她的生命没有希望。
“只有一件东西可以救她，”御医之中一位最聪明的人说。“送给她一朵世界上最美丽的玫瑰花——一朵表示最高尚、最纯洁的爱情的玫瑰花。这朵花要在她的眼睛没有闭上以前就送到她面前来，那么她就不会死掉。”
各地的年轻人和老年人送来许多玫瑰花——所有的花园里开着的最美丽的玫瑰花。然而这却不是那种能治病的玫瑰花。那应该是在爱情的花园里摘下来的一朵花；但是哪朵玫瑰真正表示出最高尚、最纯洁的爱情呢？
诗人们歌唱着世界上最美丽的玫瑰花；每个诗人都有自己的一朵。消息传遍全国，传到每一颗充满了爱情的心里，传给每一种年龄，每一个阶层和从事每种职业的人。
“至今还没有人能说出这朵花，”那个聪明人说，“谁也指不出盛开着这朵花的那块地方。这不是罗密欧和朱丽叶棺材上的玫瑰花，也不是瓦尔保坟上的玫瑰花，虽然这些玫瑰在诗歌和传说中永远是芬芳的。这也不是从文克里得的血迹斑斑的长矛上开出的那些玫瑰花——从一个为祖国而死去的英雄的心里所流出的血中开出的玫瑰花，虽然什么样的死也没有这种死可爱，什么样的花也没有他所流出的血那样红。这也不是人们在静寂的房间里，花了无数不眠之夜和宝贵的生命所培养出的那朵奇异之花——科学的奇花。”
“我知道这朵花开在什么地方，”一个幸福的母亲说。她带着她的娇嫩的孩子走到这位皇后的床边来：“我知道在什么地方可以找到世界上最美丽的玫瑰花！那朵表示最高尚和最纯洁的爱的玫瑰，是从我甜蜜的孩子的鲜艳的脸上开出来的。这时他睡足了觉，睁开他的眼睛，对我发出充满了爱的微笑！”
“这朵玫瑰是够美的，不过还有一朵比这更美，”聪明人说。
“是的，比这更要美得多，”另一个女人说。“我曾经看到过一朵，再没有任何一朵开得比这更高尚、更纯洁的花，不过它像庚申玫瑰的花瓣，白得没有血色。我看到它在皇后的脸上开出来。她取下了她的皇冠，她在悲哀的长夜里抱着她的病孩子哭泣，吻他，祈求上帝保佑他——像一个母亲在苦痛的时候那样祈求。”
“悲哀中的白玫瑰是神圣的，具有神奇的力量；但是它不是我们所寻找的那朵玫瑰花。”
“不是的，我只是在上帝的祭坛上看到世界上最美的那朵玫瑰花，”虔诚的老主教说。“我看到它像一个安琪儿的面孔似地射出光彩。年轻的姑娘走到圣餐的桌子面前，重复她们在受洗时所做出的诺言，于是玫瑰花开了——她们的鲜嫩的脸上开出淡白色的玫瑰花。一个年轻的女子站在那儿。她的灵魂充满了纯洁的爱，她抬头望着上帝——这是一个最纯洁和最高尚的爱的表情。”
“愿上帝祝福她！”聪明人说。“不过你们谁也没有对我说出世界上最美丽的玫瑰花。”这时有一个孩子——皇后的小儿子——走进房间里来了。他的眼睛里和他的脸上全是泪珠。
他捧着一本打开的厚书。这书是用天鹅绒装订的，上面还有银质的大扣子。
“妈妈！”小家伙说，“啊，请听我念吧！”
于是这孩子在床边坐下来，念着书中关于他的事情——他，为了拯救人类，包括那些还没有出生的人，在十字架上牺牲了自己的生命。
“没有什么爱能够比这更伟大！”
皇后的脸上露出一片玫瑰色的光彩，她的眼睛变得又大又明亮，因为她在这书页上看到世界上最美丽的玫瑰花——从十字架上的基督的血里开出的一朵玫瑰花。
“我看到它了！”她说，“看到了这朵玫瑰花——这朵世上最美丽的玫瑰花——的人，永远不会死亡！”
这篇故事于1852年发表在《丹麦大众历书》上。在旧时的丹麦，“历书”就像中国过去的“皇历”一样，每家都有一本，作为日常生活参考之用：所不同的是，丹麦的“历书”中总载有一篇故事，作为阅读历书者的“座右铭”。安徒生的几篇具有深刻社会意义的故事，如《卖火柴的小女孩》和《她是一个废物》，就是首先发表在“大众历书”上的。他利用这种群众性强的出版物发表这类作品，其用意是很明显的。在安徒生的想象中，耶稣是一个献出自己生命从苦难中拯救人民的人——因为在当时他在现实生活中还找不到这样的人，所以他说在恶人把他钉在十字架的那一堆血泊中所开出的玫瑰，才是世界上最美的花。“他，为了拯救人类，包括那些还没有出生的人，在十字架上牺牲了自己的生命。”实际上他是通过这个象征性的故事来歌颂勇于为人民解除苦难而做出的牺牲的人。这里的耶稣不宜与宗教迷信混为一谈。
