Banyak artis yang tinggal di Desa Greenwich di kota New York. Diantaranya Sue dan Johnsy, mereka tinggal di apartemen studio. Kamar mereka di lantai atas sebuah bangunan tua di Desa Greenwich.
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 hisicy fingers. The icy fingers of Pneumonia also touchedJohnsy. 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 Sueoutside Johnsy’s room,
Di November, ada sesuatu yang sangat dingin, asing, tidak terlihat, para dokter menyebutnya Pneumonia, ia mengintai kota, menjangkiti setiap orang dengan jari dinginnya. Jari dingin Pneumonia juga menyentuh Johnsy. Dia sangat sakit, berbaring di kasurnya dan tidak bergerak sama sekali. Dokter mengunjunginya setiap hari tapi Johnsy tidak kunjung membaik. Suatu pagi, dokter berbicara pada Sue di luar kamar Johnsy,
“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?”
“Saya tidak bisa menolongnya,” kata dokter, “dia sangat sedih dan tidak punya harapan hidup. Seseorang harus membuatnya gembira lagi. Apa yang membuatnya tertarik?”
“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!”
“Melukis!” kata dokter, “Itu tidak akan membantunya!”
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 frustasi dengan kabar ini dan tidak tau apa yang harus dilakukan untuk menolong Johnsy. Dia pergi ke ruang kerja dan menangis, kemudian dia berjalan dengan angkuh ke dalam kamar Johnsy dengan papan gambarnya, sambil bersiul bernada jazz. Johnsy bergumam di kasurnya dengan muka menatap ke jendela. Sue berhenti bersiul, mengira Johnsy tertidur.
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.
Sue merangkai papan dan mulai menggambar ilustrasi sebuah cerita majalah. Ketika Sue mensketsa figur seorang pahlawan, Koboi Idaho, dia mendengar suara pelan, beberapa kali diulang. Dia pergi secepatnya ke sisi ranjang.
Johnsy’s eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting-counting backwards.
Mata Johnsy terbuka lebar. Dia melihat keluar jendela dan menghitung mundur.
“Twelve,” she said, and little later “eleven”; and then “ten,” and “nine”; and then”eight” and “seven”, almost together.
“Duabelas,” katanya, dan beberapa saat kemudian, “sebelas,” kemudian, “sepuluh,” dan “sembilan,” dan lalu, “delapan” dan, “tujuh,” hampir bersamaan.
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.
Sue melihat keluar jendela, bingung apa yang dihitung di sini? Di sana lahan gundul, hanya terlihat lapangan suram, dan sisi kosong dari rumah bata berjarak duabelas kaki. Tua, anggur ivy tua dengan akar busuk yang menjalar, memanjat setengah ke atas di dinding bata. Hawa dingin musim gugur yang melanda anggur sampai rangka tangkainya yang melekat, hampir hilang, ke bata yang runtuh.
“What is it, dear?” asked Sue.
“Ada apa, Sayang?” Tanya 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.”
“Enam,” kata Johnsy, hampir berbisik, “Mereka jatuh sangat cepat sekarang, tiga hari yang lalu mereka hampir ratusan. Kepalaku sakit ketika aku menghitung mereka, tapi sekarang mudah. Mereka jatuh satu demi satu. Hanya tinggal lima sekarang,”
“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?”
“Daun di anggur ivy. Ketika yang terakhir jatuh aku harus pergi juga. Aku tahu itu terjadi setelah tiga hari. Tidakkan dokter memberitahumu?”
“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.”
“Oh, aku tidak mendengar omong kosong macam itu,” keluh Sue, dengan cacian, “apa yang hubungan daun ivy tua itu dengan kesehatanmu? Tidurlah,” kata Sue, “aku harus memanggil Behrman naik untuk menjadi model sebagai penambang pertapa tua. Aku tidak akan pergi sebentar. Jangan bergerak sampai aku kembali.”
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 hiscontempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.
Behrman tua adalah seorang pelukis yang tinggal di lantai dasar bangunan yang sama. Dia enampuluh tahun dan selalu bermimpi melukis sebuah mahakarya, sialnya sampai sekarang dia tidak dapat memenuhi mimpinya. Sue menemukan Behrman sedang duduk di apartemennya yang redup. Dia mengatakan padanya kondisi Johnsy. Behrman tua, dengan mata merahnya, berteriak menghina atas imajinasi konyol tersebut.
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.”
“Dorong ke atas, aku ingin melihatnya,” bisiknya. Dengan letih Sue mematuhinya, “Ini satu yang terakhir,” kata Johnsy. Ini akan jatuh hari ini, dan aku akan jatuh di saat yang sama.”
“Dear, dear!” said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, “think
of me, ifyou 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.
Daun diam di tanaman anggur sepanjang hari. Malam itu, ada lebih banyak angin dan hujan. Ketika cahayanya cukup Johnsy menyuruh kelambu diangkat. Daun ivy masih di sana.
“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.”
“Aku sudah jadi perempuan modoh, Sue,” kata Johnsy, “aku menginginkan mati tetapi daun terakhir tetap di tanaman anggur untuk memberiku pelajaran. Tolong bawakan aku sup sekarang,” “kau tau Sue, aku berharap suatu hari bisa menggambar Teluk 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.”
Dokter mengunjungi gadis itu suatu siang, “Lekas sembuh untuk temanmu,” katanya, “dia mulai membaik. Sekarang saya harus ke bawah. Saya mau mengunjungi Tn. Behrman. Dia juga mengidap Pneumonia. Saya harus mengantarnya ke rumah sakit.”
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.”
Besoknya, dokter mengatakan pada Sue, “Dia lepas dari bahaya. Kau menang. Jaga nutrisi dan kesehatannya sekarang – itu semua,” dan siangnya Sue datang ke kasur tempat Johnsy berbaring, merasa lega sambil merajut sebuah syal wol, “aku harus mengatakan sesuatu padamu, Sayang,” katanya, “Tn. Behrman meninggal karena Pneumonia hari ini di rumah sakit. Dia sakit hanya dua hari. Perawat menemukannya pada pagi hari pertama di ruangannya di lantai bawah. Sepatu dan bajunya basah dan dingin layaknya es. Mereka tidak bisa membayangkan dia berada di malam yang sangat mengerikan. Kemudian mereka menemukan lentera, masih menyala, dan sebuah tangga telah berpindah dari posisinya, dan beberapa kuas berhamburan, dan palet dengan warna hijau dan kuning yang bercampur di sini, dan – lihat di luar jendela, Sayang, daun ivy terakhir di dinding. Tidakkan kau bayangkan itu tidak pernah bergerak atau berpindah ketika angin bertiup. Ah, Sayang, ini mahakarya Behrman – dia menggambar itu di sana di sebuah malam ketika daun terakhir gugur.
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