卖火柴的小女孩 The Little Match Girl

卖火柴的小女孩

The Little Match Girl

汉斯·克里斯汀·安徒生

Hans Christian Andersen

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening—the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.

One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

She crept along trembling with cold and hunger—a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!

The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought.

In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.

Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. “Rischt!” how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but—the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.

She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when—the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.

Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when—the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.

“Someone is just dead!” said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.

She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love.

“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety—they were with God.

But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall—frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. “She wanted to warm herself,” people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.

天气冷得可怕。天正下着雪，黑暗的夜幕开始垂下来了。这是一年中最后的一夜——新年的前夕。在这样的寒冷和黑暗中，有一个赤脚的穷苦小女孩正在街上走着。是的，她离开家的时候还穿着一双拖鞋，但那又有什么用呢？那双拖鞋是那么的大，以前一直是她妈妈穿着的。在她匆忙越过街道的时候，两辆马车飞快地闯过来，吓得她把鞋子都跑落了。有一只鞋，她怎么也找不到，另一只又被一个男孩捡起来抢跑了。他还说，等他将来有了孩子的时候，他可以把它当作一只摇篮。现在小姑娘只好赤着一双小脚走路了。这双脚已经冻得又红又青。她的旧围裙里兜着许多许多火柴；她手中也拿着一束火柴。这一整天谁也没有向她买过一根火柴，谁也没有给她一个铜板。

可怜的小姑娘！她又饿又冷，哆嗦着向前走。雪花落在她金黄色的头发上——这头发散在她的肩上，看起来非常美丽。不过她并没有想到自己的美。所有的窗子都射出光来，街上飘着一股烤鹅肉的香味，因为今天是新年的前夕。是的，她在想，今天是新年的前夕。她在两座房子所构成的一个墙角里坐下来，缩作一团。她把她的一双小脚也缩了进去，不过她感到更冷了。她不敢回家去，因为她没有卖掉一根火柴，没有赚到一个铜板。她的父亲一定会打她，而且家里也是很冷的。她家什么也没有，头上只有一个屋顶，风可以从顶上吹进来，虽然最大的裂口已经用草和破布堵起来了。她的一双小手几乎冻僵了。唉！哪怕一根小火柴对她也是有好处的。只要她敢抽出一根来擦一下，就可以暖一暖手。她终于抽出了一根。哧！火柴燃起来了，冒出火来了！就像一根小小的蜡烛。这是一道美丽的微光！小姑娘觉得自己像坐在一个发亮的黄铜炉前一样。

火烧得多么旺，多么温暖，多么美好啊！唉，这是怎么一回事呀？小姑娘刚刚伸出她的一双脚，打算暖一下，忽然火焰熄灭了！火炉也不见了！她坐在那儿，手中只有一根烧过了的火柴。她又擦了一根。火柴燃起来了，发出光来了。墙上的那块被亮光照着的地方，现在忽然变得透明，像一片薄纱一样，她可以看到房间里的东西：桌上铺着雪白的台布，上面放着精致的盘碗，还有填满了梅子和苹果的冒着香气的烤鹅。更美妙的是：这只鹅从盘子里跳下来，背上插着刀叉，蹒跚地在地上走着，一直向这个穷苦的小姑娘走来。这时火柴熄灭了，她面前只有一堵又厚又冷的墙。

她又擦了一根火柴。现在她坐在美丽的圣诞树下。这株树比她上次圣诞节时透过一个富有商人家玻璃门所看到的那一株还要大，还要美。它的绿枝上燃着几千支蜡烛，一些跟挂在商店橱窗里一样美丽的彩色图画在向她眨眼。小姑娘刚把她的手伸过去，火柴就熄灭了。圣诞树的烛光越升越高，她看到它们现在变成了一些明亮的星星。这些星星中有一颗落下来，在天上划出了一道长长的红线。

“现在又有什么人死去了。”小姑娘说，因为她的老祖母——她是唯一待她好的人，但是现在已经死去了。她又擦了一根火柴，火柴把四周都照亮了。在这亮光中老祖母出现了，她显得那么温柔，那么和蔼。

“祖母！”小姑娘叫起来，“啊！请把我带走吧！我知道，这火柴一灭掉，你就会不见的，你就会像那个温暖的火炉，那只美丽的烤鹅，那株幸福的圣诞树一样不见的！”

于是她急忙把整束火柴中剩下的都擦亮了，因为她非常想把祖母留住。这些火柴发出强烈的光芒，照得比大白天还要亮。祖母这次显得特别美丽和高大。她把小姑娘抱起来，搂在怀里。她们两人在光明和快乐中飞走了，越飞越高，飞到既没有寒冷，也没有饥饿，也没有忧愁的地方去了。

在一个寒冷的清晨，这个小姑娘坐在一个墙角里。她的双颊通红，嘴唇上带着微笑，她已经死了——在新年的前夕被冻死了。新年的太阳升起来了，照着她冻僵的身体！她坐在那儿，手中还捏着火柴——其中一束几乎都烧光了。

“她想给自己暖和一下。”人们说。可是，谁也不知道：她曾经看到过多么美丽的东西，她曾经多么幸福地跟着她的祖母一起走到新年的幸福中去。