卖火柴的小女孩原文(卖火柴的小女孩英文版全文完整版)

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.