Many artists lived in Greenwich Vil

Many artists lived in Greenwich Village in New
York City. Sue and Johnsy, two artists also lived there in
a studio apartment. Their rooms were at the top of an
old building in Greenwich Village.
In November, it was very cold and with it a cold
unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia,
stalked the city, touching one here and there with his
icy fingers. The icy fingers of Pneumonia also touched
Johnsy. She was very ill, lying in her bed and not moving
at all. A doctor visited her every day but Johnsy was not
getting better . One morning, the doctor spoke to Sue
outside Johnsy's room.
T h e L a s t
Leaf
Picture 8.1 (Source: wattpad.com)
“I can' t help her,” the doctor said. “She is very sad and has no desire to
live. Someone must make her happy again. What is she interested in?”
“She is an artist,” Sue replied. “She wants to paint a picture of bay of Naples.”
“Painting!” said the doctor . “That won't help her!”
Sue was distressed by this news and didn't know what to do to help
Johnsy. She went into the workroom and cried and then she swaggered into
Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. Johnsy lay silently in her
bed with her face towards the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking Johnsy was
asleep.
Sue arranged her board and began drawing to illustrate a magazine story.
As Sue was sketching a figure of a 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 backwards.
"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then
"eight" and "seven", almost together .
Sue looked out of the window wondering what was there to count? There
was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house
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. My head ached when I was counting them but now
it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."
"Five what, dear? Tell me."
"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? 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 of the same
building. He was sixty years old and had always dreamed of painting a
masterpiece, but unfortunately till now he was not able to fulfill his dream. Sue
found Behrman in his dimly lighted apartment sitting in his chair . She told him of
Johnsy's condition. Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his
contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.
Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down
to the windowsill, 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.
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.
"It is the last one," said Johnsy. It will fall today, 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 leaf stayed on the vine all day. That night, there was more wind and rain.
When it was light enough Johnsy commanded that the shade be raised. The ivy
leaf was still there.
"I've been a foolish girl, Sue," said Johnsy. “I wanted to die but the last leaf
stayed on the vine to teach me a lesson. Please bring me some soup now.” “You
know Sue, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."
The doctor visited the girls in the afternoon. “Take good care of your
friend,” he said. “She is going to get well. Now I have to go downstairs. I have to visit
Mr . Behrman. He has pneumonia too. I must send him to the hospital.”
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 woolen shoulder scarf. "I have something to tell
you, dear," she said. "Mr . Behrman died of pneumonia today 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 colors
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 .”
(Adapted from The Last Leaf by O. Henry, 1907)

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Banyak seniman tinggal di Greenwich Village di baru York City. Sue dan Johnsy, dua seniman juga tinggal di sana sebuah apartemen studio. Kamar mereka yang di atas bangunan tua di Greenwich Village. Pada bulan November, itu sangat dingin dan dengan itu dingin orang asing yang gaib, yang dokter disebut Pneumonia, berjalan kota, menyentuh satu di sana-sini dengan jari-jari dingin. Jari-jari dingin pneumonia juga menyentuh Johnsy. Dia adalah sangat sakit, berbaring di tempat tidurnya dan tidak bergerak Sama sekali. Dokter mengunjunginya setiap hari tapi Johnsy tidak semakin baik. Suatu pagi, dokter berbicara kepada Sue Kamar di luar Johnsy. T h e L s t Daun Gambar 8.1 (sumber: wattpad.com) "Saya dapat ' t membantu dia," kata dokter. "Dia sangat menyedihkan dan tidak memiliki keinginan untuk hidup. Seseorang harus membuatnya bahagia lagi. Apa ia tertarik?""Dia adalah seorang seniman," menjawab Sue. "Dia ingin melukis gambar Teluk Napoli.""Lukisan!" kata dokter tersebut. "Itu tidak akan membantu dia!" Sue merasa tertekan oleh berita ini dan tidak tahu apa yang harus dilakukan untuk membantu Johnsy. Dia pergi ke ditemui diruang kerjanya dan menangis dan kemudian dia swaggered ke Johnsy di kamar dengan papan gambar Nya, bersiul ragtime. Johnsy berbaring diam-diam dalam dirinyatempat tidur dengan wajah ke arah jendela. Sue berhenti bersiul, berpikir Johnsy tertidur. Sue diatur papan nya dan mulai gambar untuk mengilustrasikan cerita majalah. Seperti Sue adalah sketsa sosok pahlawan, Idaho koboi, ia mendengar suara yang rendah, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside. Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backwards."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together . Sue looked out of the window wondering what was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick housewas 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. My head ached when I was counting them but now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear? Tell me.""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? 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 menit. Jangan mencoba untuk memindahkan 'til aku datang kembali." Lama Behrman adalah seorang pelukis yang tinggal di lantai dasar yang sama bangunan. Ia berumur enam puluh tahun dan telah selalu bermimpi lukisan karya, tapi sayangnya sampai sekarang ia tidak mampu mewujudkan impiannya. Sue menemukan Behrman di apartemennya menyala redup yang duduk di kursinya. Victoire menceritakan Kondisi Johnsy's. Behrman tua, dengan mata merah jelas streaming, berteriak nya penghinaan dan cemoohan untuk khayalan konyol seperti itu. Johnsy sedang tidur ketika mereka pergi ke lantai atas. Sue ditarik naungan di jendela, dan memberi isyarat Behrman ke ruangan lain. Di sana mereka mengintip keluar jendela ketakutan pada pokok anggur ivy. Kemudian mereka memandang satu sama lain untuk sebuah momen tanpa berbicara. Gigih, dingin hujan turun, bercampur dengan salju.Ketika Sue terbangun dari tidur jam pagi berikutnya ia menemukan Johnsy dengan ««««membosankan, mata terbuka lebar yang menatap naungan hijau ditarik. "Tarik Saya ingin melihat,"ia memerintahkan, dengan berbisik. Letih Sue ditaati."Ini adalah yang terakhir," kata Johnsy. Itu akan jatuh hari ini dan saya akan mati pada waktu yang sama."Sayang, sayang!" kata Sue, condong wajahnya dipakai turun ke bantal, "pikir saya, jika Anda tidak akan berpikir tentang diri Anda. Apa yang akan saya lakukan?" Tapi Johnsy tidak menjawab. Daun tinggal pada pokok anggur sepanjang hari. Malam itu, ada lebih banyak angin dan hujan.Ketika cahaya Johnsy cukup memerintahkan bahwa naungan dibangkitkan. Ivy daun itu masih ada. "Aku sudah seorang gadis yang bodoh, Sue," kata Johnsy. "Saya ingin mati tapi daun terakhir tinggal pada pokok anggur mengajarkan saya sebuah pelajaran. Harap membawa saya sup sekarang." "Anda tahu Sue, suatu hari saya berharap untuk cat Teluk Napoli." Dokter dikunjungi gadis-gadis di sore hari. "Mengambil baik perawatan Anda teman,"katanya. "Dia akan mendapatkan baik. Sekarang aku harus pergi ke bawah. Aku harus mengunjungi Mr. Behrman. Dia telah pneumonia terlalu. Aku harus mengirim dia ke rumah sakit." Hari berikutnya dokter mengatakan kepada Sue: "Dia adalah keluar dari bahaya. Anda menang. Gizi dan perawatan sekarang - itu saja." Dan bahwa sore Sue datang ke tempat tidur mana Johnsy lay, puas merajut syal wol bahu. "Aku punya sesuatu untuk memberitahu Anda, sayang, "katanya. "Mr. Behrman meninggal karena pneumonia hari di rumah sakit. Dia sedang sakit hanya dua hari. Petugas kebersihan menemukannya pagi hari pertama di kamar lantai bawah tak berdaya dengan rasa sakit. Nya sepatu dan pakaian yang basah melalui dan dingin dingin. Mereka tidak bisa membayangkan tempat ia berada pada suatu malam yang mengerikan. Dan kemudian mereka menemukan sebuah lentera, masih menyala, dan tangga yang telah menyeret dari yang tempat, dan beberapa tersebar brushes, dan palet dengan warna hijau dan kuning dicampur, dan - melihat keluar jendela, sayang, di daun ivy terakhir di dinding. Tidak Anda bertanya-tanya mengapa hal itu tidak pernah terbang atau pindah ketika angin bertiup? Ah, sayang, itu adalahBehrman's masterpiece - ia melukis itu ada malam yang terakhir daun jatuh." (Adapted from The Last Leaf by O. Henry, 1907)