I shall hold her in my arms, and sh

I shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my
shoulder, and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no
red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me
by. She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break."
"Here indeed is the true lover," said the Nightingale. "What I
sing of, he suffers--what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely
Love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and
dearer than fine opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor
is it set forth in the marketplace. It may not be purchased of the
merchants, nor can it be weighed out in the balance for gold."
"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the young Student,
"and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love will dance
to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly
that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their
gay dresses will throng round her. But with me she will not dance,
for I have no red rose to give her"; and he flung himself down on
the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.
"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past
him with his tail in the air.
"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a
sunbeam.
"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low
voice.
"He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightingale.
"For a red rose?" they cried; "how very ridiculous!" and the little
Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.
But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student's sorrow,
and she sat silent in the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery
of Love.
Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the
air. She passed through the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow
she sailed across the garden.
In the centre of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree,
and when she saw it she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.
"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest
song."
But the Tree shook its head.
"My roses are white," it answered; "as white as the foam of the
sea, and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. But go to my
brother who grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give
you what you want."
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing
round the old sun-dial.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Membawakannya dalam pelukanku, dan dia akan menyandarkan kepalanya diatas sayabahu, dan tangannya akan menggenggam di tambang. Tapi ada tidak adamawar merah di kebun saya, jadi saya akan duduk kesepian, dan dia akan melewati sayaoleh. Dia akan memiliki tidak mengindahkan saya, dan hatiku akan istirahat.""Memang ini adalah kekasih sejati," kata sang burung Bulbul. "Apa yang sayabernyanyi, ia menderita--apa sukacita bagi saya, dia adalah rasa sakit. PastiCinta adalah hal yang indah. Lebih berharga dibandingkan jamrud, danmahal daripada batu opal yang terbaik. Mutiara dan buah delima tidak bisa membeli, atauini ditetapkan di pasar. Itu tidak dapat dibeli daripedagang, tidak dapat itu ditimbang dalam keseimbangan emas. ""Para musisi akan duduk di galeri mereka," kata Sang Pelajar belia,"bermain atas kecapi mereka, dan cintaku akan menariuntuk suara harpa dan gesekan biola. Dia akan menari begitu ringankakinya tidak akan menyentuh lantai, dan para abdi dalem dalam merekagaun gay akan berduyun-duyun bulat nya. Tetapi dengan saya dia tidak akan menari,karena aku memiliki bunga mawar merah tidak memberinya"; dan ia terkulai lemas diatasrumput, membenamkan wajahnya di tangannya dan menangis."Mengapa adalah ia menangis?" tanya kadal hijau kecil, lalu berlariDia dengan ekor di udara."Mengapa, memang?" kata kupu-kupu, yang beterbangan tentang setelahSunbeam."Mengapa, memang?" berbisik Daisy sesamanya, dalam lembut, rendahsuara."Ia menangis karena menginginkan merah mawar," kata sang burung Bulbul."Untuk mawar merah?" sahut mereka bersama; "bagaimana sangat konyol!" dan kecilKadal yang adalah sesuatu yang sinis, tertawa langsung.Namun sang burung Bulbul mengerti rahasia duka siswa,Dia duduk diam di atas dahan pohon ek dan berpikir tentang mistericinta.Tiba-tiba ia menyebar nya sayap-sayap coklatnya dan melambung keudara. Ia terbang melewati seperti bayangan, dan seperti bayanganberlayar melintasi kebun.Di pusat kota rumput-plot berdiri indah pohon mawar,dan ketika dia melihatnya dia Bulbul, dan iapun."Berikan aku sekuntum bunga mawar merah," dia menangis, dan aku akan bernyanyi saya manislagu ini."Namun Pohon Mawar menggelengkan kepalanya."Mawarku berwarna putih," jawabnya; "seputih buihlaut, dan lebih putih dari salju di puncak gunung. Tapi pergi ke sayasaudaraku yang tumbuh didekat matahari tua, dan mungkin ia dapat memberiAnda apa yang Anda inginkan. "Jadi sang burung Bulbul terbang menuju pohon mawar yang tumbuhputaran jam matahari tua.