安徒生童話英文

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安徒生童話英文（通用9則）

　　《安徒生童話》中許多技巧精致而不矯飾、主題深刻而不刻板，讓文學傳統(tǒng)中那些浪漫、古老、深情和微弱的成份。

　　安徒生童話英文 1

　　A Rose from Homers Grave荷馬墓上的一朵玫瑰

　　by Hans Christian Andersen(1842)

　　ALL the songs of the east speak of the love of the nightingale for the rose in the silent starlight night. The winged songster serenades the fragrant flowers.

　　Not far from Smyrna， where the merchant drives his loaded camels， proudly arching their long necks as they journey beneath the lofty pines over holy ground， I saw a hedge of roses. The turtle-dove flew among the branches of the tall trees， and as the sunbeams fell upon her wings， they glistened as if they were mother-of-pearl. On the rose-bush GREw a flower， more beautiful than them all， and to her the nightingale sung of his woes; but the rose remained silent， not even a dewdrop lay like a tear of sympathy on her leaves. At last she bowed her head over a heap of stones， and said， “Here rests the greatest singer in the world; over his tomb will I spread my fragrance， and on it I will let my leaves fall when the storm scatters them. He who sung of Troy became earth， and from that earth I have sprung. I， a rose from the grave of Homer， am too lofty to bloom for a nightingale.” Then the nightingale sung himself to death. A camel-driver came by， with his loaded camels and his black slaves; his little son found the dead bird， and buried the lovely songster in the grave of the great Homer， while the rose trembled in the wind.

　　the evening came， and the rose wrapped her leaves more closely round her， and dreamed： and this was her dream.

　　It was a fair sunshiny day; a crowd of strangers drew near who had undertaken a pilgrimage to the grave of Homer. Among the strangers was a minstrel from the north， the home of the clouds and the brilliant lights of the aurora borealis. He plucked the rose and placed it in a book， and carried it away into a distant part of the world， his fatherland. The rose faded with grief， and lay between the leaves of the book， which he opened in his own home， saying， “Here is a rose from the grave of Homer.”

　　then the flower awoke from her dream， and trembled in the wind. A drop of dew fell from the leaves upon the singers grave. The sun rose， and the flower bloomed more beautiful than ever. The day was hot， and she was still in her own warm Asia. Then footsteps approached， strangers， such as the rose had seen in her dream， came by， and among them was a poet from the north; he plucked the rose， pressed a kiss upon her fresh mouth， and carried her away to the home of the clouds and the northern lights. Like a mummy， the flower now rests in his “Iliad，” and， as in her dream， she hears him say， as he opens the book， “Here is a rose from the grave of Homer.”

　　安徒生童話英文 2

　　the Shepherds Story of the Bond of Friendship

　　by Hans Christian Andersen(1842)

　　the little dwelling in which we lived was of clay， but the door-posts were columns of fluted marble， found near the spot on which it stood. The roof sloped nearly to the ground. It was at this time dark， brown， and ugly， but had originally been formed of blooming olive and laurel branches， brought from beyond the mountains. The house was situated in a narrow gorge， whose rocky walls rose to a perpendicular height， naked and black， while round their summits clouds often hung， looking like white living figures. Not a singing bird was ever heard there， neither did men dance to the sound of the pipe. The spot was one sacred to olden times; even its name recalled a memory of the days when it was called “Delphi.” Then the summits of the dark， sacred mountains were covered with snow， and the highest， mount Parnassus， glowed longest in the red evening light. The brook which rolled from it near our house， was also sacred. How well I can remember every spot in that deep， sacred solitude! A fire had been kindled in the midst of the hut， and while the hot ashes lay there red and glowing， the bread was baked in them. At times the snow would be piled so high around our hut as almost to hide it， and then my mother appeared most cheerful. She would hold my head between her hands， and sing the songs she never sang at other times， for the Turks， our masters， would not allow it. She sang，—

　　“On the summit of mount Olympus， in a forest of dwarf firs， lay an old stag. His eyes were heavy with tears， and glittering with colors like dewdrops; and there came by a roebuck， and said， What ailest thee， that thou weepest blue and red tears? And the stag answered， The Turk has come to our city; he has wild dogs for the chase， a goodly pack. I will drive them away across the islands! cried the young roebuck; I will drive them away across the islands into the deep sea. But before evening the roebuck was slain， and before night the hunted stag was dead.”

　　And when my mother sang thus， her eyes would become moist; and on the long eyelashes were tears， but she concealed them and watched the black bread baking in the ashes. Then I would clench my fist， and cry， “We will kill these Turks!” But she repeated the words of the song， “I will drive them across the islands to the deep sea; but before evening came the roebuck was slain， and before the night the hunted stag was dead.”

　　We had been lonely in our hut for several days and nights when my father came home. I knew he would bring me some shells from the gulf of Lepanto， or perhaps a knife with a shining blade. This time he brought， under his sheep-skin cloak， a little child， a little half-naked girl. She was wrapped in a fur; but when this was taken off， and she lay in my mothers lap， three silver coins were found fastened in her dark hair; they were all her possessions. My father told us that the childs parents had been killed by the Turks， and he talked so much about them that I dreamed of Turks all night. He himself had been wounded， and my mother bound up his arm. It was a deep wound， and the thick sheep-skin cloak was stiff with congealed blood. The little maiden was to be my sister. How pretty and bright she looked： even my mothers eyes were not more gentle than hers. Anastasia， as she was called， was to be my sister， because her father had been united to mine by an old custom， which we still follow. They had sworn brotherhood in their youth， and the most beautiful and virtuous maiden in the neighborhood was chosen to perform the act of consecration upon this bond of friendship. So now this little girl was my sister. She sat in my lap， and I brought her flowers， and feathers from the birds of the mountain. We drank together of the waters of Parnassus， and dwelt for many years beneath the laurel roof of the hut， while， winter after winter， my mother sang her song of the stag who shed red tears. But as yet I did not understand that the sorrows of my own countrymen were mirrored in those tears.

　　One day there came to our hut Franks， men from a far country， whose dress was different to ours. They had tents and beds with them， carried by horses; and they were accompanied by more than twenty Turks， all armed with swords and muskets. These Franks were friends of the Pacha， and had letters from him， commanding an escort for them. They only came to see our mountain， to ascend Parnassus amid the snow and clouds， and to look at the strange black rocks which raised their steep sides near our hut. They could not find room in the hut， nor endure the smoke that rolled along the ceiling till it found its way out at the low door; so they pitched their tents on a small space outside our dwelling. Roasted lambs and birds were brought forth， and strong， sweet wine， of which the Turks are forbidden to partake.

　　When they departed， I accompanied them for some distance， carrying my little sister Anastasia， wrapped in a goat-skin， on my back. One of the Frankish gentlemen made me stand in front of a rock， and drew us both as we stood there， so that we looked like one creature. I did not think of it then， but Anastasia and I were really one. She was always sitting on my lap， or riding in the goat-skin on my back; and in my dreams she always appeared to me.

　　Two nights after this， other men， armed with knives and muskets， came into our tent. They were Albanians， brave men， my mother told me. They only stayed a short time. My sister Anastasia sat on the knee of one of them; and when they were gone， she had not three， but two silver coins in her hair—one had disappeared. They wrapped tobacco in strips of paper， and smoked it; and I remember they were uncertain as to the road they ought to take. But they were obliged to go at last， and my father went with them. Soon after， we heard the sound of firing. The noise continued， and presently soldiers rushed into our hut， and took my mother and myself and Anastasia prisoners. They declared that we had entertained robbers， and that my father had acted as their guide， and therefore we must now go with them. The corpses of the robbers， and my fathers corpse， were brought into the hut. I saw my poor dead father， and cried till I fell asleep. When I awoke， I found myself in a prison; but the room was not worse than our own in the hut. They gave me onions and musty wine from a tarred cask; but we were not accustomed to much better fare at home. How long we were kept in prison， I do not know; but many days and nights passed by. We were set free about Easter-time. I carried Anastasia on my back， and we walked very slowly; for my mother was very weak， and it is a long way to the sea， to the Gulf of Lepanto.

　　On our arrival， we entered a church， in which there were beautiful pictures in golden frames. They were pictures of angels， fair and bright; and yet our little Anastasia looked equally beautiful， as it seemed to me. In the centre of the floor stood a coffin filled with roses. My mother told me it was the Lord Jesus Christ who was represented by these roses. Then the priest announced， “Christ is risen，” and all the people GREeted each other. Each one carried a burning taper in his hand， and one was given to me， as well as to little Anastasia. The music sounded， and the people left the church hand-in-hand， with joy and gladness. Outside， the women were roasting the paschal lamb. We were invited to partake; and as I sat by the fire， a boy， older than myself， put his arms round my neck， and kissed me， and said， “Christ is risen.” And thus it was that for the first time I met Aphtanides.

　　My mother could make fishermens nets， for which there was a GREat demand here in the bay; and we lived a long time by the side of the sea， the beautiful sea， that had a taste like tears， and in its colors reminded me of the stag that wept red tears; for sometimes its waters were red， and sometimes green or blue. Aphtanides knew how to manage our boat， and I often sat in it， with my little Anastasia， while it glided on through the water， swift as a bird flying through the air. Then， when the sun set， how beautifully， deeply blue， would be the tint on the mountains， one rising above the other in the far distance， and the summit of mount Parnassus rising above them all like a glorious crown. Its top glittered in the evening rays like molten gold， and it seemed as if the light came from within it; for long after the sun had sunk beneath the horizon， the mountain-top would glow in the clear， blue sky. The white aquatic birds skimmed the surface of the water in their flight， and all was calm and still as amid the black rocks at Delphi. I lay on my back in the boat， Anastasia leaned against me， while the stars above us glittered more brightly than the lamps in our church. They were the same stars， and in the same position over me as when I used to sit in front of our hut at Delphi， and I had almost begun to fancy I was still there， when suddenly there was a splash in the water—Anastasia had fallen in; but in a moment Aphtanides has sprung in after her， and was now holding her up to me. We dried her clothes as well as we were able， and remained on the water till they were dry; for we did not wish it to be known what a fright we had had， nor the danger which our little adopted sister had incurred， in whose life Aphtanides had now a part.

　　the summer came， and the burning heat of the sun tinted the leaves of the trees with lines of gold. I thought of our cool mountain-home， and the fresh water that flowed near it; my mother， too， longed for if， and one evening we wandered towards home. How peaceful and silent it was as we walked on through the thick， wild thyme， still fragrant， though the sun had scorched the leaves. Not a single herdsman did we meet， not a solitary hut did we pass; everything appeared lonely and deserted—only a shooting star showed that in the heavens there was yet life. I know not whether the clear， blue atmosphere gleamed with its own light， or if the radiance came from the stars; but we could distinguish quite plainly the outline of the mountains. My mother lighted a fire， and roasted some roots she had brought with her， and I and my little sister slept among the bushes， without fear of the ugly smidraki，1 from whose throat issues fire， or of the wolf and the jackal; for my mother sat by us， and I considered her presence sufficient protection.

　　We reached our old home; but the cottage was in ruins， and we had to build a new one. With the aid of some neighbors， chiefly women， the walls were in a few days erected， and very soon covered with a roof of olive-branches. My mother obtained a living by making bottle-cases of bark and skins， and I kept the sheep belonging to the priests， who were sometimes peasants，2 while I had for my playfellows Anastasia and the turtles.

　　Once our beloved Aphtanides paid us a visit. He said he had been longing to see us so much; and he remained with us two whole happy days. A month afterwards he came again to wish us good-bye， and brought with him a large fish for my mother. He told us he was going in a ship to Corfu and Patras， and could relate a GREat many stories， not only about the fishermen who lived near the gulf of Lepanto， but also of kings and heroes who had once possessed Greece， just as the Turks possess it now.

　　I have seen a bud on a rose-bush gradually， in the course of a few weeks， unfold its leaves till it became a rose in all its beauty; and， before I was aware of it， I beheld it blooming in rosy loveliness. The same thing had happened to Anastasia. Unnoticed by me， she had gradually become a beautiful maiden， and I was now also a stout， strong youth. The wolf-skins that covered the bed in which my mother and Anastasia slept， had been taken from wolves which I had myself shot.Years had gone by when， one evening， Aphtanides came in. He had grown tall and slender as a reed， with strong limbs， and a dark， brown skin. He kissed us all， and had so much to tell of what he had seen of the GREat ocean， of the fortifications at Malta， and of the marvellous sepulchres of Egypt， that I looked up to him with a kind of veneration. His stories were as strange as the legends of the priests of olden times.

　　“How much you know!” I exclaimed， “and what wonders you can relate?”

　　“I think what you once told me， the finest of all，” he replied; “you told me of a thing that has never been out of my thoughts—of the good old custom of the bond of friendship，—a custom I should like to follow. Brother， let you and I go to church， as your father and Anastasias father once did. Your sister Anastasia is the most beautiful and most innocent of maidens， and she shall consecrate the deed. No people have such grand old customs as we GREeks.”

　　Anastasia blushed like a young rose， and my mother kissed Aphtanides.

　　At about two miles from our cottage， where the earth on the hill is sheltered by a few scattered trees， stood the little church， with a silver lamp hanging before the altar. I put on my best clothes， and the white tunic fell in graceful folds over my hips. The red jacket fitted tight and close， the tassel on my Fez cap was of silver， and in my girdle glittered a knife and my pistols. Aphtanides was clad in the blue dress worn by the GREek sailors; on his breast hung a silver medal with the figure of the Virgin Mary， and his scarf was as costly as those worn by rich lords. Every one could see that we were about to perform a solemn ceremony. When we entered the little， unpretending church， the evening sunlight streamed through the open door on the burning lamp， and glittered on the golden picture frames. We knelt down together on the altar steps， and Anastasia drew near and stood beside us. A long， white garment fell in graceful folds over her delicate form， and on her white neck and bosom hung a chain entwined with old and new coins， forming a kind of collar. Her black hair was fastened into a knot， and confined by a headdress formed of gold and silver coins which had been found in an ancient temple. No Greek girl had more beautiful ornaments than these. Her countenance glowed， and her eyes were like two stars. We all three offered a silent prayer， and then she said to us， “Will you be friends in life and in death?”

　　“Yes，” we replied.

　　“Will you each remember to say， whatever may happen， My brother is a part of myself; his secret is my secret， my happiness is his; self-sacrifice， patience， everything belongs to me as they do to him? ”

　　And we again answered， “Yes.” then she joined out hands and kissed us on the forehead， and we again prayed silently. After this a priest came through a door near the altar， and blessed us all three. Then a song was sung by other holy men behind the altar-screen， and the bond of eternal friendship was confirmed. When we arose， I saw my mother standing by the church door， weeping.

　　How cheerful everything seemed now in our little cottage by the Delphian springs! On the evening before his departure， Aphtanides sat thoughtfully beside me on the slopes of the mountain. His arm was flung around me， and mine was round his neck. We spoke of the sorrows of GREece， and of the men of the country who could be trusted. Every thought of our souls lay clear before us. Presently I seized his hand： “Aphtanides，” I exclaimed， “there is one thing still that you must know，—one thing that till now has been a secret between myself and Heaven. My whole soul is filled with love，—with a love stronger than the love I bear to my mother and to thee.”

　　“And whom do you love?” asked Aphtanides. And his face and neck GREw red as fire.

　　“I love Anastasia，” I replied.

　　then his hand trembled in mine， and he became pale as a corpse. I saw it， I understood the cause， and I believe my hand trembled too. I bent towards him， I kissed his forehead， and whispered， “I have never spoken of this to her， and perhaps she does not love me. Brother， think of this; I have seen her daily， she has grown up beside me， and has become a part of my soul.”

　　“And she shall be thine，” he exclaimed; “thine! I may not wrong thee， nor will I do so. I also love her， but tomorrow I depart. In a year we will see each other again， but then you will be married; shall it not be so? I have a little gold of my own， it shall be yours. You must and shall take it.”

　　We wandered silently homeward across the mountains. It was late in the evening when we reached my mothers door. Anastasia held the lamp as we entered; my mother was not there. She looked at Aphtanides with a sweet but mournful expression on her face. “To-morrow you are going to leave us，” she said. “I am very sorry.”

　　“Sorry!” he exclaimed， and his voice was troubled with a grief as deep as my own. I could not speak; but he seized her hand and said， “Our brother yonder loves you， and is he not dear to you? His very silence now proves his affection.”

　　Anastasia trembled， and burst into tears. then I saw no one， thought of none， but her. I threw my arms round her， and pressed my lips to hers. As she flung her arms round my neck， the lamp fell to the ground， and we were in darkness， dark as the heart of poor Aphtanides.

　　Before daybreak he rose， kissed us all， and said “Farewell，” and went away. He had given all his money to my mother for us. Anastasia was betrothed to me， and in a few days afterwards she became my wife.

　　安徒生童話英文 3

　　THE ELFIN HILL

　　A FEW large lizards were running nimbly about in the clefts of an old tree. They could understand one another very well, for they spoke the lizard language. "What a buzzing and a rumbling there is in the elfin hill," said one of the lizards.

　　"I have not been able to close my eyes for two nights on account of the noise; I might just as well have had the toothache, for that always keeps me awake."

　　"There is something going on within there," said the other lizard; "they propped up the top of the hill with four red posts, till cockcrowthis morning, so that it is thoroughly aired, and the elfin girls have learnt new dances; there is something."

　　"I spoke about it to an earthworm of my acquaintance," said a third lizard; "the earthworm had just come from the elfin hill, where he has been groping about in the earth day and night. He has heard a great deal; although he cannot see, poor miserable creature, yet he understands very well how to wriggle and lurk about. They expect friends in the elfin hill, grand company, too; but who they are the earthworm would not say, or, perhaps, he really did not know. All the willothewisps are ordered to be there to hold a torch dance, as it is called. The silver and gold which is plentiful in the hill will be polished and placed out in the moonlight."

　　"Who can the strangers be?" asked the lizards; "what can the matter be? Hark, what a buzzing and humming there is!"

　　Just at this moment the elfin hill opened, and an old elfin maiden, hollow behind, came tripping out; she was the old elf kings housekeeper, and a distant relative of the family; therefore she wore an amber heart on the middle of her forehead. Her feet moved very fast, "trip, trip;" good gracious, how she could trip right down to the sea to the nightraven.

　　"You are invited to the elf hill for this evening," said she; "but will you do me a great favor and undertake the invitations? you oughtto do something, for you have no housekeeping to attend to as I have. We are going to have some very grand people, conjurors, who have always something to say; and therefore the old elf king wishes to make a great display."

　　"Who is to be invited?" asked the raven.

　　"All the world may come to the great ball, even human beings, if they can only talk in their sleep, or do something after our fashion. But for the feast the company must be carefully selected; we can only admit persons of high rank; I have had a dispute myself with the elf king, as he thought we could not admit ghosts. The merman and his daughter must be invited first, although it may not be agreeable to them to remain so long on dry land, but they shall have a wet stone to sit on, or perhaps something better; so I think they will not refuse this time. We must have all the old demons of the first class, with tails, and the hobgoblins and imps; and then I think we ought not to leave out the deathhorse, or the gravepig, or even the church dwarf, although they do belong to the clergy, and are not reckoned among our people; but that is merely their office, they are nearly related to us, and visit us very frequently."

　　"Croak," said the nightraven as he flew away with the invitations.

　　The elfin maidens were already dancing on the elf hill, and they danced in shawls woven from moonshine and mist, which look very pretty to those who like such things. The large hall within the elf hill was splendidly decorated; the floor had been washed with moonshine, and the walls had been rubbed with magic ointment, so that they glowed like tulipleaves in the light. In the kitchen were frogs roasting on the spit, and dishes preparing of snail skins, with childrens fingers in them, salad of mushroom seed, hemlock, noses and marrow of mice, beer from the marsh womans brewery, and sparkling saltpetre wine from the grave cellars. These were all substantial food. Rusty nails and churchwindow glass formed the dessert. The old elf king had his gold crown polished up with powdered slatepencil; it was like that used by the first form, and very difficult for an elf king to obtain. In the bedrooms, curtains were hung up and fastened with the slime of snails; there was, indeed, a buzzing and humming everywhere.

　　"Now we must fumigate the place with burnt horsehair and pigs bristles, and then I think I shall have done my part," said the elf manservant.

　　"Father, dear," said the youngest daughter, "may I now hear who our highborn visitors are?"

　　"Well, I suppose I must tell you now," he replied; "two of my daughters must prepare themselves to be married, for the marriages certainly will take place. The old goblin from Norway, who lives in the ancient Dovre mountains, and who possesses many castles built of rock and freestone, besides a gold mine, which is better than all, so it is thought, is coming with his two sons, who are both seeking a wife. The old goblin is a truehearted, honest, old Norwegian graybeard; cheerful and straightforward. I knew him formerly, when we used to drink together to our good fellowship: he came here once to fetch his wife, she is dead now. She was the daughter of the king of the chalkhills at Moen. They say he took his wife from chalk; I shall be delighted to see him again. It is said that the boys are illbred, forward lads, but perhaps that is not quite correct, and they will become better as they grow older. Let me see that you know how to teach them good manners."

　　"And when are they coming?" asked the daughter.

　　"That depends upon wind and weather," said the elf king; "they travel economically. They will come when there is the chance of a ship. I wanted them to come over to Sweden, but the old man was not inclined to take my advice. He does not go forward with the times, and that I do not like."

　　Two willothewisps came jumping in, one quicker than the other, so of course, one arrived first. "They are coming! they are coming!" he cried.

　　"Give me my crown," said the elf king, "and let me stand in the moonshine."

　　The daughters drew on their shawls and bowed down to the ground. There stood the old goblin from the Dovre mountains, with his crown of hardened ice and polished fircones. Besides this, he wore a bearskin, and great, warm boots, while his sons went with their throats bare and wore no braces, for they were strong men.

　　"Is that a hill?" said the youngest of the boys, pointing to the elf hill, "we should call it a hole in Norway."

　　"Boys," said the old man, "a hole goes in, and a hill stands out; have you no eyes in your heads?"

　　Another thing they wondered at was, that they were able without trouble to understand the language.

　　"Take care," said the old man, "or people will think you have not been well brought up."

　　Then they entered the elfin hill, where the select and grand company were assembled, and so quickly had they appeared that they seemed to have been blown together. But for each guest the neatest and pleasantest arrangement had been made. The sea folks sat at table in great watertubs, and they said it was just like being at home. All behaved themselves properly excepting the two young northern goblins; they put their legs on the table and thought they were all right.

　　"Feet off the tablecloth!" said the old goblin. They obeyed, but not immediately. Then they tickled the ladies who waited at table, with the fircones, which they carried in their pockets. They took off their boots, that they might be more at ease, and gave them to the ladies to hold. But their father, the old goblin, was very different; he talked pleasantly about the stately Norwegian rocks, and told fine tales of the waterfalls which dashed over them with a clattering noise like thunder or the sound of an organ, spreading their white foam on every side. He told of the salmon that leaps in the rushing waters, while the watergod plays on his golden harp. He spoke of the bright winter nights, when the sledge bells are ringing, and the boys run with burning torches across the smooth ice, which is so transparent that they can see the fishes dart forward beneath their feet. He described everything so clearly, that those who listened could see it all; they could see the sawmills going, the menservants and the maidens singing songs, and dancing a rattling dance, when all at once the old goblin gave the old elfin maiden a kiss, such a tremendous kiss, and yet they were almost strangers to each other.

　　Then the elfin girls had to dance, first in the usual way, and then with stamping feet, which they performed very well; then followed the artistic and solo dance. Dear me, how they did throw their legs about! No one could tell where the dance begun, or where it ended, nor indeed which were legs and which were arms, for they were all flying about together, like the shavings in a sawpit! And then they spun round so quickly that the deathhorse and the gravepig became sick and giddy, and were obliged to leave the table.

　　"Stop!" cried the old goblin," is that the only housekeeping they can perform? Can they do anything more than dance and throw about their legs, and make a whirlwind?"

　　"You shall soon see what they can do," said the elf king. And then he called his youngest daughter to him. She was slender and fair as moonlight, and the most graceful of all the sisters. She took a white chip in her mouth, and vanished instantly; this was her accomplishment. But the old goblin said he should not like his wife to have such an accomplishment, and thought his boys would have the same objection. Another daughter could make a figure like herself follow her, as if she had a shadow, which none of the goblin folk ever had. The third was of quite a different sort; she had learnt in the brewhouse of the moor witch how to lard elfin puddings with glowworms.

　　"She will make a good housewife," said the old goblin, and then saluted her with his eyes instead of drinking her health; for he did not drink much.

　　Now came the fourth daughter, with a large harp to play upon; and when she struck the first chord, every one lifted up the left leg (for the goblins are leftlegged), and at the second chord they found they must all do just what she wanted.

　　"That is a dangerous woman," said the old goblin; and the two sons walked out of the hill; they had had enough of it. "And what can the next daughter do?" asked the old goblin.

　　"I have learnt everything that is Norwegian," said she; "and I will never marry, unless I can go to Norway."

　　Then her youngest sister whispered to the old goblin, "That is only because she has heard, in a Norwegian song, that when the world shall decay, the cliffs of Norway will remain standing like monuments; and she wants to get there, that she may be safe; for she is so afraid of sinking."

　　"Ho! ho!" said the old goblin, "is that what she means? Well, what can the seventh and last do?"

　　"The sixth comes before the seventh," said the elf king, for he could reckon; but the sixth would not come forward.

　　"I can only tell people the truth," said she. "No one cares for me, nor troubles himself about me; and I have enough to do to sew my grave clothes."

　　So the seventh and last came; and what could she do? Why, she could tell stories, as many as you liked, on any subject.

　　安徒生童話英文 4

　　Really， the largest GREen leaf in this country is a dockleaf; if one holds it before one， it is like a whole apron， and if one holds it over ones head in rainy weather， it is almost as good as an umbrella， for it is so immensely large. The burdock never grows alone， but where there grows one there always grow several： it is a great delight， and all this delightfulness is snails food. The great white snails which persons of quality in former times made fricassees of， ate， and said， "Hem， hem! how delicious!" for they thought it tasted so delicate——lived on dockleaves， and therefore burdock seeds were sown.

　　Now， there was an old manorhouse， where they no longer ate snails， they were quite extinct; but the burdocks were not extinct， they GREw and grew all over the walks and all the beds; they could not get the mastery over them——it was a whole forest of burdocks. Here and there stood an apple and a plumtree， or else one never would have thought that it was a garden; all was burdocks， and there lived the two last venerable old snails.

　　they themselves knew not how old they were， but they could remember very well that there had been many more; that they were of a family from foreign lands， and that for them and theirs the whole forest was planted. They had never been outside it， but they knew that there was still something more in the world， which was called the manorhouse， and that there they were boiled， and then they became black， and were then placed on a silver dish; but what happened further they knew not; or， in fact， what it was to be boiled， and to lie on a silver dish， they could not possibly imagine; but it was said to be delightful， and particularly genteel. Neither the chafers， the toads， nor the earthworms， whom they asked about it could give them any information——none of them had been boiled or laid on a silver dish.

　　the old white snails were the first persons of distinction in the world， that they knew; the forest was planted for their sake， and the manorhouse was there that they might be boiled and laid on a silver dish.

　　Now they lived a very lonely and happy life; and as they had no children themselves， they had adopted a little common snail， which they brought up as their own; but the little one would not grow， for he was of a common family; but the old ones， especially Dame Mother Snail， thought they could observe how he increased in size， and she begged father， if he could not see it， that he would at least feel the little snails shell; and then he felt it， and found the good dame was right.

　　One day there was a heavy storm of rain.

　　"Hear how it beats like a drum on the dockleaves!" said Father Snail.

　　"there are also raindrops!" said Mother Snail. "And now the rain pours right down the stalk! You will see that it will be wet here! I am very happy to think that we have our good house， and the little one has his also! There is more done for us than for all other creatures， sure enough; but can you not see that we are folks of quality in the world? We are provided with a house from our birth， and the burdock forest is planted for our sakes! I should like to know how far it extends， and what there is outside!"

　　"there is nothing at all，" said Father Snail. "No place can be better than ours， and I have nothing to wish for!"

　　"Yes，" said the dame. "I would willingly go to the manorhouse， be boiled， and laid on a silver dish; all our forefathers have been treated so; there is something extraordinary in it， you may be sure!"

　　"the manorhouse has most likely fallen to ruin!" said Father Snail. "Or the burdocks have grown up over it， so that they cannot come out. There need not， however， be any haste about that; but you are always in such a tremendous hurry， and the little one is beginning to be the same. Has he not been creeping up that stalk these three days? It gives me a headache when I look up to him!"

　　"You must not scold him，" said Mother Snail. "He creeps so carefully; he will afford us much pleasure——and we have nothing but him to live for! But have you not thought of it? Where shall we get a wife for him? Do you not think that there are some of our species at a GREat distance in the interior of the burdock forest?"

　　"Black snails， I dare say， there are enough of，" said the old one. "Black snails without a house——but they are so common， and so conceited. But we might give the ants a commission to look out for us; they run to and fro as if they had something to do， and they certainly know of a wife for our little snail!"

　　"I know one， sure enough——the most charming one!" said one of the ants. "But I am afraid we shall hardly succeed， for she is a queen!"

　　"That is nothing!" said the old folks. "Has she a house?"

　　"She has a palace!" said the ant. "The finest ants palace， with seven hundred passages!"

　　"I thank you!" said Mother Snail. "Our son shall not go into an anthill; if you know nothing better than that， we shall give the commission to the white gnats. They fly far and wide， in rain and sunshine; they know the whole forest here， both within and without."

　　"We have a wife for him，" said the gnats. "At a hundred human paces from here there sits a little snail in her house， on a gooseberry bush; she is quite lonely， and old enough to be married. It is only a hundred human paces!"

　　"Well， then， let her come to him!" said the old ones. "He has a whole forest of burdocks， she has only a bush!"

　　And so they went and fetched little Miss Snail. It was a whole week before she arrived; but therein was just the very best of it， for one could thus see that she was of the same species.

　　And then the marriage was celebrated. Six earthworms shone as well as they could. In other respects the whole went off very quietly， for the old folks could not bear noise and merriment; but old Dame Snail made a brilliant speech. Father Snail could not speak， he was too much affected; and so they gave them as a dowry and inheritance， the whole forest of burdocks， and said——what they had always said——that it was the best in the world; and if they lived honestly and decently， and increased and multiplied， they and their children would once in the course of time come to the manorhouse， be boiled black， and laid on silver dishes. After this speech was made， the old ones crept into their shells， and never more came out. They slept; the young couple governed in the forest， and had a numerous progeny， but they were never boiled， and never came on the silver dishes; so from this they concluded that the manorhouse had fallen to ruins， and that all the men in the world were extinct; and as no one contradicted them， so， of course it was so. And the rain beat on the dockleaves to make drummusic for their sake， and the sun shone in order to give the burdock forest a color for their sakes; and they were very happy， and the whole family was happy; for they， indeed were so.

　　安徒生童話英文 5

　　THE PRINCESS ON THE PEA

　　THERE was once a Prince who wanted to marry a princess; but she was to be a real princess. So he travelled about , all through the world , to find a real one , but everywhere there was something in the way. There were princesses enough, but whether they were real princesses he could not quite make out : there was always something that did not seem quite right. So he came home again, and was quite sad; for he wished so much to have a real princess.

　　One evening a terrible storm came on. It lightened and thundered, the rain streamed down; it was quite fearful! Then there was a knocking at the town-gate, and the old King went out to open it .

　　It was a Princess who stood outside the gate . But , mercy! How she looked, from the rain and the rough weather! The water ran down her hair and her clothes; it ran in at the points of her shoes, and out at the heels; and yet she declared that she was a real princess .

　　“Yes , we will soon find that out , ” thought the old Queen. But she said nothing, only went into the bedchamber, took all the bedding off, and put a pea on the bottom of the bedstead ; then she took twenty mattresses and laid them upon the pea, and then twenty eider-down quilts upon the mattresses . On this the Princess had to lie all night . In the morning she was asked how she had slept .

　　“Oh, miserably!” said the Princess. “I scarcely closed my eyes all night long. Goodness knows what was in my bed . I lay upon something hard , so that I am black and blue all over . It is quite dreadful ! ”

　　Now they saw that she was a real princess, for through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eider-down quilts she had felt the pea. No one but a real princess could be so tender-skinned.

　　So the Prince took her for his wife, for now he knew that he had a true princess and the pea was put in the museum, and it is still to be seen there, unless somebody has carried it off .

　　Look you , this is a true story .

　　安徒生童話英文 6

　　THIS story is from the sand-dunes or sand-hills of Jutland， but it does not begin there in the North， but far away in the South， in Spain. The wide sea is the highroad from nation to nation； journey in thought； then， to sunny Spain. It is warm and beautiful there； the fiery pomegranate flowers peep from among dark laurels； a cool refreshing breeze from the mountains blows over the orange gardens， over the Moorish halls with their golden cupolas and coloured walls. Children go through the streets in procession with candles and waving banners， and the sky， lofty and clear with its glittering stars， rises above them. Sounds of singing and castanets can be heard， and youths and maidens dance upon the flowering acacia trees， while even the beggar sits upon a block of marble， refreshing himself with a juicy melon， and dreamily enjoying life. It all seems like a beautiful dream.

　　Here dwelt a newly married couple who completely gave themselves up to the charm of life； indeed they possessed every good thing they could desirehealth and happiness， riches and honour.

　　We are as happy as human beings can be， said the young couple from the depths of their hearts. They had indeed only one step higher to mount on the ladder of happinessthey hoped that God would give them a child， a son like them in form and spirit. The happy little one was to be welcomed with rejoicing， to be cared for with love and tenderness， and enjoy every advantage of wealth and luxury that a rich and influential family can give. So the days went by like a joyous festival.

　　安徒生童話英文 7

　　A mother sat there with her little child. She was so downcast， so afraid that it should die！ It was so pale， the small eyes had closed themselves， and it drew its breath so softly， now and then， with a deep respiration， as if it sighed； and the mother looked still more sorrowfully on the little creature.

　　Then a knocking was heard at the door， and in came a poor old man wrapped up as in a large horse-cloth， for it warms one， and he needed it， as it was the cold winter season！ Everything out-of-doors was covered with ice and snow， and the wind blew so that it cut the face.

　　As the old man trembled with cold， and the little child slept a moment， the mother went and poured some ale into a pot and set it on the stove， that it might be warm for him； the old man sat and rocked the cradle， and the mother sat down on a chair close by him， and looked at her little sick child that drew its breath so deep， and raised its little hand.

　　Do you not think that I shall save him？ said she. Our Lord will not take him from me！

　　And the old manit was Death himselfhe nodded so strangely， it could just as well signify yes as no. And the mother looked down in her lap， and the tears ran down over her cheeks； her head became so heavyshe had not closed her eyes for three days and nights； and now she slept， but only for a minute，when she started up and trembled with cold.

　　安徒生童話英文 8

　　ROUND about the garden ran a hedge of hazel bushes. Beyond the hedge were fields and meadows with cows and sheep, but in the middle of the garden stood a rosetree in bloom. Under the rose tree sat a snail, whose shell contained a great deal that is, himself.

　　"Only wait till my time comes," he said; "I shall do more than grow roses, bear nuts, or give milk, like the hazelbush, the cows and the sheep."

　　"I expect a great deal from you," said the rosetree. "May I ask when it will appear?"

　　"I take my time," said the snail. "Youre always in such a hurry. That does not excite expectation."

　　The following year the snail lay in almost the same spot, in the sunshine under the rosetree, which was again budding and bearing roses as fresh and beautiful as ever. The snail crept half out of his shell, stretched out his horns, and drew them in again.

　　"Everything is just as it was last year! No progress at all; the rosetree sticks to its roses and gets no farther."

　　The summer and the autumn passed; the rosetree bore roses and buds till the snow fell and the weather became raw and wet; then it bent down its head, and the snail crept into the ground.

　　A new year began; the roses made their appearance, and the snail made his too.

　　"You are an old rosetree now," said the snail. "You must make haste and die. You have given the world all that you had in you; whether it was of much importance is a question that I have not had time to think about. But this much is clear and plain, that you have not done the least for your inner development, or you would have produced something else. Have you anything to say in defense? You will now soon be nothing but a stick. Do you understand what I say?"

　　"You frighten me," said the rose tree. "I have never thought of that."

　　"No, you have never taken the trouble to think at all. Have you ever given yourself an account why you bloomed, and how your blooming comes about why just in that way and in no other?"

　　"No," said the rosetree. "I bloom in gladness, because I cannot do otherwise. The sun shone and warmed me, and the air refreshed me; I drank the clear dew and the invigorating rain. I breathed and I lived! Out of the earth there arose a power within me, whilst from above I also received strength; I felt an everrenewed and everincreasing happiness, and therefore I was obliged to go on blooming. That was my life; I could not do otherwise."

　　"You have led a very easy life," remarked the snail.

　　"Certainly. Everything was given me," said the rosetree. "But still more was given to you. Yours is one of those deepthinking natures, one of those highly gifted minds that astonishes the world."

　　"I have not the slightest intention of doing so," said the snail.

　　"The world is nothing to me. What have I to do with the world? I have enough to do with myself, and enough in myself"

　　"But must we not all here on earth give up our best parts to others, and offer as much as lies in our power? It is true, I have only given roses. But you you who are so richly endowed what have you given to the world? What will you give it?"

　　"What have I given? What am I going to give? I spit at it; its good for nothing, and does not concern me. For my part, you may go on bearing roses; you cannot do anything else. Let the hazel bush bear nuts, and the cows and sheep give milk; they have each their public. I have mine in myself. I retire within myself and there I stop. The world is nothing to me."

　　With this the snail withdrew into his house and blocked up the entrance.

　　"Thats very sad," said the rose tree. "I cannot creep into myself, however much I might wish to do so; I have to go on bearing roses. Then they drop their leaves, which are blown away by the wind. But I once saw how a rose was laid in the mistresss hymnbook, and how one of my roses found a place in the bosom of a young beautiful girl, and how another was kissed by the lips of a child in the glad joy of life. That did me good; it was a real blessing. Those are my recollections, my life."

　　And the rose tree went on blooming in innocence, while the snail lay idling in his house the world was nothing to him.

　　Years passed by.

　　The snail had turned to earth in the earth, and the rose tree too. Even the souvenir rose in the hymnbook was faded, but in the garden there were other rose trees and other snails. The latter crept into their houses and spat at the world, for it did not concern them.

　　Shall we read the story all over again? It will be just the same.

　　安徒生童話英文 9

　　GREAT CLAUS AND LITTLE CLAUS

　　THERE lived two men in one village, and they had the same name ---- each was called Claus; but one had four horses, and the other only a single horse. To distinguish them from each other, folks called him who had four horses Great Claus, and the one who had only a single horse Little Claus . Now we shall hear what happened to each of them, for this is a true story .

　　The whole week through, Little Claus was obliged to plough for Great Claus, and to lend him his one horse; then Great Claus helped him out with all his four, but only once a week , and that was on Sunday . Hurrah ! How Little Claus smacked his whip over all five horses, for they were as good as his own on that one day. The sun shone gaily , and all the bells in the steeples were ringing; the people were all dressed in their best, and were going to church, with their hymn-books under their arms, to hear the clergyman preach, and they saw Little Claus ploughing with five horses; but he was so merry that he smacked his whip again and again, and cried, “Gee up, all my five!”

　　“You must not talk so,” said Great Claus, “for only one horse is yours . ”

　　But when any one passed Little Claus forgot that he was not to say this, and he cried, “Gee up, all my horses!”

　　“Now, I must beg of you to stop that,” cried Great Claus, “for if you say it again, I shall hit your horse on the head, so that it will fall down dead, and then it will be all over with him.”

　　“I will certainly not say it any more,” said Little Claus.

　　But when people came by soon afterwards , and nodded “ good day ” to him , he became very glad , and thought it looked very well, after all, that he had five horses to plough his field; and so he smacked his whip again, and cried , “Gee up , all my horses ! ”

　　“Ill ‘gee up’ your horses ! ” said Great Claus . And he took a mallet and hit the only horse of Little Claus on the head , so that it fell down , and was dead immediately .

　　“Oh , now I havent any horse at all !” said Little Claus, and began to cry.

　　Then he flayed the horse , and let the hide dry in the wind, and put it in a sack and hung it over his shoulder, and went to the town to sell his horses skin.

　　He had a very long way to go, and was obliged to pass through a great dark wood , and the weather became dreadfully bad . He went quite astray , and before he got into the right way again it was evening, and it was too far to get home again or even to the town before nightfall.

　　Close by the road stood a large farm-house . The shutters were closed outside the windows, but the light could still be seen shining out over them.

　　“I may be able to get leave to stop here through the night , ” thought Little Claus ; and he went and knocked . The farmer s wife opened the door; but when she heard what he wanted she told him to go away, declaring that her husband was not at home, and she would not receive strangers .

　　“Then I shall have to lie outside , ” said Little Claus . And the farmers wife shut the door in his face.

　　Close by stood a great haystack, and between this and the farm-house was a little outhouse thatched with straw.

　　“Up there I can lie,” said Little Claus, when he looked up at the roof , “that is a capital bed . I suppose the stork won t fly down and bite me in the legs . ” For a living stork was standing on the roof, where he had his nest .

　　Now Little Claus climbed up to the roof of the shed, where he lay, and turned round to settle himself comfortably . The wooden shutters did not cover the windows at the top, and he could look straight into the room. There was a great table, with the cloth laid, and wine and roast meat and a glorious fish upon it . The farmer s wife and the parish-clerk were seated at table, and nobody besides. She was filling his glass, and he was digging his fork into the fish, for that was his favourite dish.

　　“If one could only get some too ! ”thought Little Claus, as he stretched out his head towards the window. Heavens! What a glorious cake he saw standing there! Yes , certainly , that was a feast .

　　Now he heard some one riding along the high road. It was the womans husband, who was coming home. He was a good man enough, but he had the strange peculiarity that he could never bear to see a clerk . If a clerk appeared before his eyes he became quite wild . And that was the reason why the clerk had gone to the wife to wish her good day , because he knew that her husband was not at home ; and the good woman therefore put the best fare she had before him. But when they heard the man coming they were frightened, and the woman begged the clerk to creep into a great empty chest which stood in the comer; and he did so, for he knew the husband could not bear the sight of a clerk . The woman quickly hid all the excellent meat and wine in her baking-oven; for if the man had seen that , he would have been certain to ask what it meant .

　　“Oh, dear!” sighed Little Claus, up in his shed, when he saw all the good fare put away .

　　“Is there any one up there?” asked the farmer; and he looked up at Little Claus. “Why are you lying there? Better come with me into the room.”

　　And Little Claus told him how he had lost his way, and asked leave to stay there for the night.

　　“Yes, certainly,” said the peasant, “but first we must have something to live on .”

　　The woman received them both in a very friendly way , spread the cloth on a long table , and gave them a great dish of porridge . The farmer was hungry , and ate with a good appetite; but Little Claus could not help thinking of the capital roast meat, fish, and cake, which he knew were in the oven. Under the table, at his feet, he had laid the sack with the horse s hide in it ; for we know that he had come out to sell it in the town. He could not relish the porridge, so he trod upon the sack, and the dry skin inside crackled quite loudly .

　　“Hush,” said Little Claus to his sack; but at the same time he trod on it again, so that it crackled much louder than before .

　　“Why, what have you in your sack?” asked the farmer .

　　“Oh, thats a magician,” answered Little Claus. “He says we are not to eat porridge, for he has conjured the oven full of roast meat , fish , and cake . ”

　　“Wonderful!” cried the farmer; and he opened the oven in a hurry, and found all the dainty provisions which his wife had hidden there, but which, as he thought, the wizard had conjured forth. The woman dared not say anything, but put the things at once on the table; and so they both ate of the meat , the fish , and the cake . Now Little Claus again trod on his sack, and made the hide creak .

　　“What does he say now? ” said the farmer.

　　“He says , ” replied Claus , “ that he has conjured three bottles of wine for us, too, and that they are also standing there in the oven . ”

　　Now the woman was obliged to bring out the wine which she had hidden, and the farmer drank it and became very merry . He would have been very glad to own such a conjuror as Little Claus had there in the sack .

　　“Can he conjure the demon forth?” asked the farmer. “I should like to see him, for now I am merry.”

　　“Oh, yes.” said Little Claus, “my conjuror can do any thing that I ask of him. ---- Can you not?” he added, and trod on the hide , so that it crackled . He says ‘Yes . ’ But the demon is very ugly to look at : we had better not see him.”

　　“Oh , I m not at all afraid . Pray , what will he look like?”

　　“Why, hell look the very image of a parish-clerk . ”

　　“Ha!” said the farmer, “ that is ugly! You must know, I can t bear the sight of a clerk . But it doesnt matter now, for I know that hes a demon, so I shall easily stand it. Now I have courage, but he must not come too near me . ”

　　“Now I will ask my conjuror,” said Little Claus; and he trod on the sack and held his ear down .

　　“What does he say?”

　　“He says you may go and open the chest that stands in the corner, and you will see the demon crouching in it; but you must hold the lid so that he doesnt slip out . ”

　　“Will you help me to hold him?” asked the farmer. And he went to the chest where the wife had hidden the real clerk , who sat in there and was very much afraid . The farmer opened the lid a little way and peeped in underneath it .

　　“Ugh ! ” he cried , and sprang backward . “Yes , now Ive seen him, and he looked exactly like our clerk. Oh, that was dreadful ! ”

　　Upon this they must drink . So they sat and drank until late into the night .

　　“You must sell me that conjuror,” said the farmer. “Ask as much as you like for him. Ill give you a whole bushel of money directly . ”

　　“No, that I cant do,” said Little Claus: “only think how much use I can make of this conjuror.”

　　“Oh, I should so much like to have him!” cried the farmer; and he went on begging.

　　“Well , ” said Little Claus , at last , “as you have been so kind as to give me shelter for the night , I will let it be so . You shall have the conjuror for a bushel of money; but I must have the bushel heaped up . ”

　　“That you shall have,” replied the farmer. “But you must take the chest yonder away with you . I will not keep it in my house an hour. One cannot know ---- perhaps he may be there still . ”

　　Little Claus gave the farmer his sack with the dry hide in it, and got in exchange a whole bushel of money, and that heaped up . The farmer also gave him a big truck , on which to carry off his money and chest .

　　“Farewell!” said Little Claus ; and he went off with his money and the big chest , in which the clerk was still sitting.

　　On the other side of the wood was a great deep river. The water rushed along so rapidly that one could scarcely swim against the stream. A fine new bridge had been built over it. Little Claus stopped on the centre of the bridge, and said quite loud , so that the clerk could hear it ,“Ho, what shall I do with this stupid chest? Its as heavy as if stones were in it . I shall only get tired if I drag it any farther, so Ill throw it into the river: if it swims home to me, well and good; and if it does not, it will be no great matter .”

　　And he took the chest with one hand, and lifted it up a little, as if he intended to throw it into the river.

　　“No ! Stop it !” cried the clerk from within the chest; “l(fā)et me out first !”

　　“Ugh!” exclaimed Little Claus, pretending to be frightened, “he s in there still ! I must make haste and throw him into the river, that he may be drowned . ”

　　“Oh , no , no !” screamed the clerk . “Ill give you a whole bushel-full of money if youll let me go . ”

　　“Why, thats another thing!” said Little Claus; and he opened the chest .

　　The clerk crept quickly out, pushed the empty chest into the water, and went to his house, where Little Claus received a whole bushel-full of money . He had already received one from the farmer, and so now he had his truck loaded with money .

　　“See , Ive been well paid for the horse , ” he said to himself when he had got home to his own room, and was emptying all the money into a heap in the middle of the floor. “That will vex Great Claus when he hears how rich I have grown through my one horse ; but I won t tell him about it outright . ”

　　So he sent a boy to Great Claus to ask for a bushel measure .

　　“What can he want with it?” thought Great Claus . And he smeared some tar underneath the measure, so that some part of whatever was measured should stick to it . And thus it happened; for when he received the measure back, there were three new three-penny pieces adhering thereto .

　　“Whats this?” cried Great Claus; and he ran off at once to Little Claus. “Where did you get all that money from?”

　　“Oh, thats for my horses skin. I sold it yesterday evening. ”

　　“Thats really being well paid,” said Great Claus. And he ran home in a hurry, took an axe, and killed all his four horses; then he flayed them, and carried off their skins to the town .

　　“Hides ! Hides ! Wholl buy any hides?” he cried through the streets .

　　All the shoemakers and tanners came running, and asked how much he wanted for them.

　　“A bushel of money for each !” said Great Claus .

　　“Are you mad?” said they . “Do you think we have money by the bushel?”

　　“Hides! Hides!” he cried again; and to all who asked him what the hides would cost he replied, “A bushel of money . ”

　　“He wants to make fools of us,” they all exclaimed. And the shoemakers took their straps, and the tanners their aprons , and they began to beat Great Claus .

　　“Hides !Hides !” they called after him, jeeringly . “Yes , we 11 tan your hide for you till the red broth runs down . Out of the town with him !” And Great Claus made the best haste he could , for he had never yet been thrashed as he was thrashed now .

　　“Well,” said he when he got home, “Little Claus shall pay for this . Ill kill him for it . ”

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