描述
◆萌化人心，正能量爆棚——一本让你读懂友谊、学会爱、感受成长的暖心动物童话。
◆分角色朗读的绝佳范本，亲子共读的典范——一本迅速提升亲子亲密度的神奇之书。
全程多是小动物们的对话，每个动物的语气形态和风格都不一样，分角色朗读极具有画面感——你与孩子的亲密度，只差一本《柳林风声》的距离。
◆中英文均是一字未删全本。中文生动流畅，语言细腻；英文原版金句迭出，表达多样。中英文一一对照，阅读体验非常好。
◆温馨提示：
（1）中文版有经典插图，图文结合，体验棒棒。
（2）英文版有斜体字，在文中表示强调，这是从原版开始就一直保留的特色元素。朗读/默读时据此揣摩语气，阅读更带感。
《柳林风声》是一部妙趣横生、温馨有爱的动物童话，讲述的是几个小动物居家度日、外出游玩儿、离家历险，以及齐心协力夺回家园的故事。这里有胆小却喜欢冒险、对朋友十分忠诚的鼹鼠莫尔，有热情好客、宽容体贴又充满浪漫诗趣的水鼠兰特，有侠义持重、颇具领导风范又不喜社交的獾子班杰，还有虚荣浮夸、不断追求新事物、喜欢冒险刺激的癞蛤蟆托德。他们在杨柳河岸、野树林中演绎了一幕幕有乐同享、有难同当的美丽故事。
现在，带上你的童心，踏上风景如画的杨柳河岸，追随鼹鼠莫尔的脚步，开启惊险刺激又充满温情的旅程吧！
译 序
第一章 河 岸
第二章 大路朝天
第三章 野树林
第四章 班杰先生
第五章 家园之乐
第六章 托德先生
第七章 黎明之门前的吹笛人
第八章 托德的冒险
第九章 旅行者种种
第十章 托德的进一步冒险
第十一章 泪如夏日暴雨
第十二章 奥德修斯归来
1 The River Bank
2 The Open Road
3 The Wild Wood
4 Mr. Badger
5 Dulce Domum
6 Mr. Toad
7 The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
8 Toad’s Adventures
9 Wayfarers All
10 The Further Adventures of Toad
11 “Like Summer Tempests Came His Tears”
12 The Return of Ulysses
这是一本验证每个人性格的书。我们没有能力评论它，因为它在批评我们。
——英国著名童话作家、《小熊温尼•菩》作者 艾伦•米尔恩
一拿来便从头至尾读完了，这是不常有的事。《柳林风声》是二十世纪儿童文学的佳作，另有一番诗趣。
——著名翻译家、文学评论家 周作人
第一章 河 岸
整个早晨，鼹鼠莫尔都在十分努力地工作，给他的小家做春季大清扫。先扫地，再掸灰，然后踩着梯子、台阶和椅子，用石灰水刷墙。最后弄得眼睛里喉咙口都是灰土，一身黑皮毛上溅满石灰水的白点子，胳膊酸疼，腰酸背痛。而他头顶上的空气、脚下的泥土，他的周围，都洋溢着春天的气息，连他那昏暗低矮的小房子，都渗透着对春天无比美妙的渴望氛围。所以呀，他突然发飙就没什么可奇怪的了：他把刷子扔在地板上，“讨厌，”他说，“啊，见鬼！”还加上一句：“去他的春季大清扫！”说完外套都没披上，就冲出了家门。上面有什么东西在急切地召唤着他。他沿着陡峭而狭窄的通道，向上爬去。这通道对他来说，就相当于那些住宅离太阳和天空更近的动物所拥有的铺石子儿的马车道。他一边忙着用小爪子扒呀、挖呀、抓呀、抠呀，一边自言自语地咕哝着：
“我们上去喽！我们上去喽！”终于，噗！大鼻子钻进了阳光里，他发现自己在一片大草甸上，在温暖的草上打滚。
“真棒！”他说，“这可比石灰水好多了！”阳光洒在他的皮毛上，暖洋洋的；柔和的微风抚摩着他晒热的额头。在与世隔绝的地洞里住了那么久，听觉也迟钝了，鸟儿快乐的鸣唱一下子灌进耳朵，差不多就像是吼叫。他立刻弹起四条腿，在生活的欢乐中，在春天的喜悦里，把春季大清扫抛到脑后，蹿过大草坪，来到它另一边的树篱前。
“站住！”树篱豁口处，一只上了年纪的兔子喝道，“此路私人所有，留下六便士买路钱！”顷刻间，他就被很不耐烦的莫尔轻蔑地撞翻了。别的兔子急忙从洞口向外窥望，想看看外面究竟在闹腾什么事。莫尔沿着树篱内侧一溜小跑，耍弄他们寻开心。“蠢货！蠢货！”他嘲弄地说，他们还没来得及想出一句十分满意的话来回敬他，他已经跑得没了影儿。于是他们像惯常那样，一个个互相埋怨起来。“瞧你多笨！你干吗不告诉他……““哟，你为什么不说……”“你原本可以提醒他……”等等；不过当然啰，这些都是事后聪明，他们照例总是这一套的。
一切都太美好了，仿佛不是真的一样。他很起劲地在草地上东跑西颠，沿着灌木丛，翻过坡顶，发现处处鸟儿在筑巢，花儿在绽开花蕾，叶子在抽出嫩芽─万物都很快乐，都在成长，都没有空闲。他听不到愧疚感在耳边嘀咕：“石灰水！”只觉得，在这一大群忙碌的公民中间，做唯一的一只懒狗狗，有多么快活。说到底，休假这事儿最好的地方，也许还不是自己在休息，而是看到别的家伙都在忙着干活。
…………
1 The
River Bank
The
Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little
home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and
chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat
and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back
and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and
around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of
divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly
flung down his brush on the floor, said “Bother!” and “O blow!” and also “Hang
spring-cleaning!” and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on
his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously, and he made for the
steep little tunnel which answered in his case to the gravelled carriage-drive
owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped
and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged and then he scrooged again and
scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and
muttering to himself, “Up we go! Up we go!” till at last, pop! his snout came
out into the sunlight and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great
meadow.
“This is fine!” he said to himself.
“This is better than whitewashing!” The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft
breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion of the cellarage he
had lived in so long the carol of happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost
like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and
the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the
meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side.
“Hold up!” said an elderly rabbit at
the gap. “Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!” He was
bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted
along the side of the hedge chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly
from their holes to see what the row was about. “Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!” he
remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly
satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. “How stupid
you are! Why didn’t you tell him——” “Well, why didn’t you say——” “You might
have reminded him——” and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then
much too late, as is always the case.
It
all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he
rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere
birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and
progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking
him and whispering “whitewash!” he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to
be the only idle dog among all these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be
resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.
…………
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