Many artists lived in the Greenwich

Many artists lived in the Greenwich Village area of New York. Two young women named Sue and Johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. Johnsy's real name was Joanna.

In November, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. This disease, pneumonia, killed many people. Johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. She looked through the small window. She could see the side of the brick house next to her building.

One morning, a doctor examined Johnsy and took her temperature. Then he spoke with Sue in another room.

"She has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. Your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"

"She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples in Italy some day," said Sue.

"Paint?" said the doctor. "Bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?"

"A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."

"I will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, I take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines."

After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she went to Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. She began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. Young artists must work their way to "Art" by making pictures for magazine stories. Sue 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 backward. "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together.



Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? There was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. An old ivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.



"Six," said Johnsy, quietly. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head hurt to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."

"Five what, dear?" asked Sue.

"Leaves. On the plant. 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 a thing," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine. Don't be silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said – he said the chances were ten to one! Try to eat some soup now. And, let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us."



"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another one. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by tomorrow."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Mister Behrman up to be my model for my drawing of an old miner. Don't try to move until I come back."



Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor of the apartment building. Behrman was a failure in art. For years, he had always been planning to paint a work of art, but had never yet begun it. He earned a little money by serving as a model to artists who could not pay for a professional model. He was a fierce, little, old man who protected the two young women in the studio apartment above him.

Sue found Behrman in his room. In one area was a blank canvas that had been waiting twenty-five years for the first line of paint. Sue told him about Johnsy and how she feared that her friend would float away like a leaf.

Old Behrman was angered at such an idea. "Are there people in the world with the foolishness to die because leaves drop off a vine? Why do you let that silly business come in her brain?"

"She is very sick and weak," said Sue, "and the disease has left her mind full of strange ideas."

"This is not any place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy shall lie sick," yelled Behrman. "Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away."

Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to cover the window. She and Behrman went into the other room. They looked out a window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other without speaking. A cold rain was falling, mixed with snow. Behrman sat and posed as the miner.

The next morning, Sue awoke after an hour's sleep. She found Johnsy with wide-open eyes staring at the covered window.

"Pull up the shade; I want to see," she ordered, quietly.

Sue obeyed.

After the beating rain and fierce wind that blew through the night, there yet stood against the wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. It was still dark green at the center. But its edges were colored with the yellow. It hung bravely from the branch about seven meters above the ground.

"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today and I shall die at the same time."



"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down toward the bed. "Think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"

But Johnsy did not answer.

(MUSIC)

The next morning, when it was light, Johnsy demanded that the window shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there. Johnsy lay for a long time, looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was preparing chicken soup.

"I've been a bad girl," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. It is wrong to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now."

An hour later she said: "Someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."

Later in the day, the doctor came, and Sue talked to him in the hallway.

"Even chances," said the doctor. "With good care, you'll win. And now I must see another case I have in your building. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man and his case is severe. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to ease his pain."

The next day, the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -- that's all."

Later that day, Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, and put one arm around her.

"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mister Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was sick only two days. They found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were completely wet and icy cold. They could not imagine where he had been on such a terrible night.

And then they found a lantern, still lighted. And they found a ladder that had been moved from its place. And art supplies and a painting board 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 moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it is Behrman's masterpiece – he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 2:

Banyak seniman tinggal di daerah Greenwich Village New York. Dua perempuan muda bernama Sue dan Johnsy berbagi apartemen studio di atas sebuah gedung berlantai tiga. Nama asli Johnsy adalah Joanna. Pada bulan November, dingin, asing terlihat datang untuk mengunjungi kota. Penyakit ini, pneumonia, membunuh banyak orang. Johnsy berbaring di tempat tidurnya, hampir tidak bergerak. Dia melihat melalui jendela kecil. Dia bisa melihat sisi rumah bata di sebelah gedung nya. Suatu pagi, dokter memeriksa Johnsy dan mengambil suhu tubuhnya. . Lalu dia berbicara dengan Sue di ruangan lain "Dia memiliki satu kesempatan di - katakanlah sepuluh," katanya. "Dan kesempatan yang baginya untuk ingin hidup teman Anda telah memutuskan bahwa dia tidak akan sembuh Apakah dia apa-apa pada pikirannya..?" "Dia - dia ingin melukis Teluk Napoli di Italia beberapa hari, "kata Sue. " Cat? " kata dokter. "! Bosh Apakah dia apa-apa pada pikirannya layak berpikir dua kali -? Seorang pria misalnya" "Seorang pria"? kata Sue. "Apakah kekayaan pria - tapi, tidak ada, dokter;. Tidak ada yang semacam itu" "Saya akan melakukan semua ilmu yang dapat melakukan," kata dokter. "Tapi setiap kali pasien saya mulai menghitung gerbong di pemakamannya, saya mengambil lima puluh persen dari kekuatan kuratif obat-obatan." Setelah dokter pergi, Sue pergi ke ruang kerja dan menangis. Lalu ia pergi ke kamar Johnsy dengan papan gambar nya, bersiul ragtime. Johnsy berbaring dengan wajah ke arah jendela. Sue berhenti bersiul, berpikir dia sedang tidur. Dia mulai membuat pena dan tinta gambar untuk sebuah cerita di majalah. Seniman muda harus bekerja dengan cara mereka untuk "Seni" dengan membuat gambar untuk cerita majalah. Sue mendengar suara rendah, beberapa kali diulang. Dia pergi dengan cepat ke samping tempat tidur. Mata Johnsy ini terbuka lebar. Dia melihat keluar jendela dan menghitung - menghitung mundur. "Dua belas," katanya, dan sedikit kemudian "sebelas"; dan kemudian "sepuluh" dan "sembilan;" dan kemudian "delapan" dan "tujuh," hampir sama. Sue melihat ke luar jendela. Apa yang ada di sana untuk menghitung? Hanya ada sebuah halaman kosong dan sisi kosong dari rumah tujuh meter. Sebuah pohon anggur ivy tua, akan buruk di akar, naik setengah jalan ke atas dinding. Nafas dingin musim gugur telah dilanda daun dari tanaman sampai cabang-cabangnya, hampir telanjang, tergantung pada batu bata. "Ada apa, sayang?" tanya Sue. "Enam," kata Johnsy, diam-diam. "Mereka jatuh lebih cepat sekarang. Tiga hari yang lalu ada hampir seratus. Hal itu membuat kepala saya sakit untuk menghitungnya. Tapi sekarang mudah. ​​Ada pergi satu sama lain. Ada yang hanya lima yang tersisa sekarang." "Lima apa, sayang? " tanya Sue. "Daun. Pada tanaman. Ketika yang terakhir jatuh aku harus pergi juga. Aku sudah tahu bahwa selama tiga hari. Tidak dokter memberitahu Anda?" "Oh, aku tidak pernah mendengar hal seperti itu, "kata Sue. ?.. "Apa yang harus ivy tua daun hubungannya dengan Anda mendapatkan baik Dan Anda dulu suka anggur yang Jangan konyol Mengapa, dokter mengatakan kepada saya pagi ini bahwa peluang Anda untuk mendapatkan baik segera nyata yang - mari kita lihat apa yang katanya - dia mengatakan, kemungkinan itu 00:50 Cobalah untuk makan sup sekarang dan, biarkan aku kembali ke gambar saya, jadi saya bisa menjualnya ke majalah dan membeli makanan dan anggur bagi kita "!.. " Anda needn ' t mendapatkan lebih banyak anggur, "kata Johnsy, menjaga matanya tetap ke luar jendela. "Ada pergi satu sama lain. Tidak, saya tidak ingin sup apapun. Yang meninggalkan hanya empat. Saya ingin melihat yang terakhir jatuh sebelum hari gelap. Lalu aku akan pergi juga." "Johnsy, Sayang," kata Sue, "akan Anda berjanji untuk menjaga mata Anda tertutup, dan tidak melihat keluar jendela sampai saya selesai bekerja? saya harus menyerahkan gambar-gambar di besok." "Katakan segera setelah Anda selesai," kata Johnsy, penutupan matanya dan berbaring putih dan masih sebagai patung jatuh. "Saya ingin melihat yang terakhir jatuh. Aku lelah menunggu. Aku lelah berpikir. Saya ingin mengubah longgar terus saya pada segala sesuatu, dan pergi berlayar turun, turun, seperti salah satu dari mereka miskin, daun lelah . " " Cobalah untuk tidur, "kata Sue. "Saya harus menelepon Pak Behrman hingga menjadi model saya untuk menggambar saya seorang penambang tua. Jangan mencoba untuk bergerak sampai aku datang kembali." Old Behrman adalah seorang pelukis yang tinggal di lantai dasar dari gedung apartemen. Behrman adalah kegagalan dalam seni. Selama bertahun-tahun, ia selalu berencana untuk melukis sebuah karya seni, tetapi tidak pernah belum dimulai itu. Ia mendapatkan sedikit uang dengan melayani sebagai model untuk seniman yang tidak bisa membayar untuk model profesional. Dia adalah seorang pria kecil sengit,, tua yang dilindungi dua perempuan muda di apartemen studio di atasnya. Sue ditemukan Behrman di kamarnya. Di satu daerah adalah sebuah kanvas kosong yang telah menunggu dua puluh lima tahun untuk baris pertama cat. Sue bercerita tentang Johnsy dan bagaimana ia takut bahwa temannya akan hanyut seperti daun. Old Behrman marah pada gagasan seperti itu. "Apakah ada orang di dunia dengan kebodohan mati karena daun drop off pohon anggur? Mengapa kau biarkan bahwa bisnis konyol datang dalam otaknya?" "Dia sangat sakit dan lemah," kata Sue, "dan penyakit telah meninggalkan pikirannya penuh ide aneh. " " ini bukan tempat di mana begitu baik sebagai Miss Johnsy akan berbaring sakit, "teriak Behrman. "Beberapa hari aku akan melukis sebuah karya, dan kita semua akan pergi." Johnsy sedang tidur ketika mereka naik ke atas. Sue menarik teduh turun untuk menutupi jendela. Dia dan Behrman pergi ke ruang lainnya. Mereka memandang ke luar jendela ketakutan di anggur ivy. Kemudian mereka saling memandang tanpa bicara. Sebuah hujan yang dingin jatuh, dicampur dengan salju. Behrman duduk dan berpose sebagai penambang. Keesokan paginya, Sue terbangun setelah tidur satu jam. Dia menemukan Johnsy dengan mata terbuka lebar menatap jendela tertutup. . "Tarik teduh, saya ingin melihat," dia memerintahkan, diam-diam . Sue dipatuhi Setelah hujan pemukulan dan angin yang kencang yang bertiup sepanjang malam, ada belum berdiri dinding satu daun ivy. Ini adalah yang terakhir pada pokok anggur. Itu masih hijau gelap di pusat. Tapi ujung-ujungnya diwarnai dengan kuning. Itu tergantung berani dari cabang sekitar tujuh meter di atas tanah. "Ini adalah yang terakhir," kata Johnsy. "Saya pikir itu pasti akan jatuh pada malam hari. Saya mendengar angin. Ini akan jatuh hari ini dan saya akan mati pada waktu yang sama." "Sayang, sayang!" kata Sue, bersandar wajah dikenakan nya ke arah tempat tidur. "Pikirkanlah tentang aku, jika Anda tidak akan memikirkan diri sendiri. Apa yang akan saya lakukan?" Tapi Johnsy tidak menjawab. (MUSIC) Keesokan harinya, ketika itu adalah cahaya, Johnsy menuntut bahwa jendela naungan dinaikkan. Daun ivy itu masih ada. Johnsy berbaring untuk waktu yang lama, melihat hal itu. Dan kemudian dia dipanggil untuk Sue, yang sedang menyiapkan sup ayam. "Aku sudah menjadi gadis nakal," kata Johnsy. "... Sesuatu telah dibuat bahwa daun terakhir tinggal di sana untuk menunjukkan seberapa buruk saya Adalah salah untuk ingin mati Anda mungkin membawa saya sup sedikit sekarang" Satu jam kemudian dia berkata: "Suatu hari nanti saya berharap untuk melukis Teluk Naples. " Kemudian pada hari itu, dokter datang, dan Sue berbicara dengannya di lorong. " Bahkan kemungkinan, "kata dokter. "Dengan perawatan yang baik, Anda akan menang Dan sekarang aku harus melihat kasus lain yang saya miliki di gedung Anda Behrman, namanya -.... Semacam seorang seniman, saya percaya Pneumonia juga Dia adalah seorang pria tua, lemah .. dan kasusnya parah ada harapan baginya, tetapi ia pergi ke rumah sakit hari ini untuk mengurangi rasa sakitnya " . Keesokan harinya, kata dokter untuk Sue:" dia keluar dari bahaya Anda memenangkan Nutrisi dan peduli sekarang -. -. itu semua " . Kemudian pada hari itu, Sue datang ke tempat di mana Johnsy berbaring, dan meletakkan satu tangan di sekelilingnya " aku punya sesuatu untuk memberitahu Anda, tikus putih, "katanya. "Pak Behrman meninggal karena pneumonia hari di rumah sakit. Dia sakit hanya dua hari. Mereka menemukan dia pagi hari pertama di kamarnya di lantai bawah tak berdaya dengan rasa sakit. Sepatu dan pakaian-Nya benar-benar basah dan dingin seperti es. Mereka tidak bisa membayangkan di mana ia telah di suatu malam yang mengerikan. dan kemudian mereka menemukan lentera, masih menyala. dan mereka menemukan sebuah tangga yang telah dipindahkan dari tempatnya. dan perlengkapan dan papan lukisan dengan warna hijau dan kuning dicampur di atasnya. dan .? melihat keluar jendela, sayang, pada akhirnya daun ivy di dinding Apakah Anda tidak bertanya-tanya mengapa tidak pernah pindah ketika angin bertiup Ah, sayang, itu adalah karya Behrman - ia melukisnya di sana malam bahwa daun lalu turun .