安徒生的童話故事體現了丹麥文學中的民主傳統和現實主義傾嚮。他的最好的童話膾炙人口，到今天還為世界上衆多的成年人和兒童所傳誦。有些童話如《賣火柴的小女孩》（The Little Match Girl）、《醜小鴨》（The Ugly Duckling）《看門人的兒子》等，既真實地描繪了窮苦人的悲慘生活，又滲透着浪漫主義的情調和幻想。由於作者出身貧寒，對於社會上貧富不均、弱肉強食的現象感受極深，因此他一方面以真摯的筆觸熱烈歌頌勞動人民，同情不幸的窮人，贊美他們的善良、純潔等高尚品質；另一方面又憤怒地鞭撻了殘暴、貪婪、虛弱、愚蠢的反動統治階級和剝削者，揭露了教會僧侶的醜行和人們的種種陋習，不遺餘力地批判了社會罪惡。《皇帝的新裝》（The Emperor's New Clothes）辛辣地諷刺了皇帝的昏庸無能和朝臣們阿諛逢迎的醜態；《夜鶯》（The Nightingale）和《豌豆上的公主》（The Princess and the Pea）嘲笑了貴族的無知和脆弱。他在最後一部作品《園丁和主人》中，還着力塑造了一個真正的愛國者的形象，反映了作者本人始終不渝的愛國主義精神。
安徒生的一些童話故事，特別是晚期的某些作品，也顯示出他思想上的局限性。他雖然把滿腔同情傾註在窮苦人身上，但因找不到擺脫不幸的道路，又以傷感的眼光看待世界，流露出消極情緒。他認為上帝是真、善、美的化身，可以引導人們走嚮“幸福”。他在作品中有時也進行道德說教，宣揚基督教的博愛思想，提倡容忍與和解的精神。
安徒生的童話同民間文學有着血緣關係，繼承並發揚了民間文學的樸素清新的格調。他早期的作品大多數取材於民間故事，後期創作中也引用了很多民間歌謠和傳說。
在體裁和寫作手法上，安徒生的作品是多樣化的，有童話故事，也有短篇小說；有寓言，也有詩歌；既適合於兒童閱讀，也適合於成年人鑒賞。他創造的藝術形象，如：沒有穿衣服的皇帝、堅定的錫兵、拇指姑娘、醜小鴨、紅鞋等，已成為歐洲語言中的典故。
在語言風格上，安徒生是一個有高度創造性的作傢，在作品中大量運用丹麥下層人民的日常口語和民間故事的結構形式。語言生動、自然、流暢、優美、充滿濃郁的鄉土氣息。
During his lifetime he was acclaimed for having delighted children worldwide, and was feted by royalty. His poetry and stories have been translated into more than 150 languages. They have inspired motion pictures, plays, ballets, and animated films.
安徒生的一些童話故事，特別是晚期的某些作品，也顯示出他思想上的局限性。他雖然把滿腔同情傾註在窮苦人身上，但因找不到擺脫不幸的道路，又以傷感的眼光看待世界，流露出消極情緒。他認為上帝是真、善、美的化身，可以引導人們走嚮“幸福”。他在作品中有時也進行道德說教，宣揚基督教的博愛思想，提倡容忍與和解的精神。
安徒生的童話同民間文學有着血緣關係，繼承並發揚了民間文學的樸素清新的格調。他早期的作品大多數取材於民間故事，後期創作中也引用了很多民間歌謠和傳說。
在體裁和寫作手法上，安徒生的作品是多樣化的，有童話故事，也有短篇小說；有寓言，也有詩歌；既適合於兒童閱讀，也適合於成年人鑒賞。他創造的藝術形象，如：沒有穿衣服的皇帝、堅定的錫兵、拇指姑娘、醜小鴨、紅鞋等，已成為歐洲語言中的典故。
在語言風格上，安徒生是一個有高度創造性的作傢，在作品中大量運用丹麥下層人民的日常口語和民間故事的結構形式。語言生動、自然、流暢、優美、充滿濃郁的鄉土氣息。
During his lifetime he was acclaimed for having delighted children worldwide, and was feted by royalty. His poetry and stories have been translated into more than 150 languages. They have inspired motion pictures, plays, ballets, and animated films.
本版是林樺1995年譯的，但當我翻看其中字句時，卻發現至少《打火匣》及《野天鵝》與與葉氏譯本全無二緻，到底為何如此，卻非我能瞭解。不過如果全部如此，至少可以保證此版本的質量不差。另外其中有重複的地方，如51與92。我會在有暇時仔細查對，然後補上缺少的部分。因為，安徒生是我至愛的一個作傢。（宇慧編後記）
001
打火匣
002
皇帝的新裝
003
飛箱
004
醜小鴨
005
沒有畫的畫册
006
跳高者
007
紅鞋
008
襯衫領子
009
一個豆英裏的五粒豆
010
一個貴族和他的女兒們
011
守塔人奧列
012
蝴蝶
013
貝脫、比脫和比爾
014
爛布片
015
織補針
016
拇指姑娘
017
跳蚤和教授
018
區別
019
一本不說話的書
020
夏日癡
021
筆和墨水壺
022
風車
023
瓦爾都窗前的一瞥
024
甲蟲
025
幸福的家庭
026
完全是真的
027
薊的遭遇
028
新世紀的女神
029
各得其所
030
一星期的日子
031
錢豬
032
在遼遠的海極
033
荷馬墓上的一朵玫瑰
034
野天鵝
035
母親的故事
036
猶太女子
037
牙痛姑媽
038
金黃的寶貝
039
民歌的鳥兒
040
接骨木樹媽媽
041
沙丘的故 事
042
小剋勞斯和大剋勞斯
043
遷居的日子
044
鬼火進城了
045
幸運的套鞋
046
鸛鳥
047
樅樹
048
香腸栓熬的湯
049
牧羊女和掃煙囪的人
050
天上落下來的一片葉子
051
惡毒的王子
052
演木偶戲的人
053
舞吧，舞吧，我的玩偶
054
安妮·莉斯貝
055
素琪①
056
藏着並不等於遺忘
057
誰是最幸運的
058
鐘聲
059
頑皮的孩子
060
識字課本
061
老約翰妮講的故事
062
老墓碑
063
姑媽
064
墓裏的孩子
065
老路燈
066
老頭子做事總不會錯
067
老房子
068
天鵝的窠
069
創造
070
冰姑娘
071
小鬼和小商人
072
陽光的故事
073
依卜和小剋麗斯玎
074
夢神
075
老上帝還沒有滅亡
076
園丁和他的貴族主人
077
書法傢
078
茶壺
079
小小的緑東西
080
一點成績
081
天國花園
082
最難使人相信的事情
083
一枚銀毫
084
肉腸簽子湯
085
光棍漢的睡帽
086
做出點樣子來
087
老橡樹的最後一夢
088
字母讀本
089
沼澤王的女兒
090
跑得飛快的東西
091
鐘淵
092
狠毒的王子
093
多伊和他的女兒們
094
踩面包的姑娘
095
守塔人奧勒
096
安妮·莉絲貝特
097
孩子話
098
一串珍珠
099
墨水筆和墨水瓶
100
墓中的孩子
101
傢養公雞和風信公雞
102
沙岡那邊的一段故事
103
演木偶戲的人
104
兩兄弟
105
教堂古鐘
106
搭郵車來的十二位
107
屎殼郎
108
老爹做的事總是對的
109
雪人
110
在鴨場裏
111
新世紀的繆斯
112
冰姑娘
113
蝴蝶
114
普賽剋
115
蝸牛和玫瑰樹
116
害人鬼進城了
117
風磨
118
銀毫子
119
伯爾厄隆的主教和他的親眷
120
在幼兒室裏
121
金寶貝
122
狂風吹跑了招牌
123
茶壺
124
民歌的鳥
125
緑色的小東西
126
小精靈和太太
127
貝得、彼得和皮爾
128
隱存着並不就是被忘卻
129
看門人的兒子
130
搬遷日
131
謊報夏
132
姨媽
133
癩蛤蟆
134
教父的畫册
135
碎布塊
136
汶島和格棱島
137
誰最幸福
138
樹精
139
看雞人格瑞得的一傢
140
薊的經歷
141
你能琢磨出什麽
142
好運氣在一根簽子裏
143
彗星
144
一個星期的每一天
145
陽光的故 事
146
曾祖父
147
燭
148
最難令人相信的事
149
一傢人都怎樣說
150
跳吧，舞吧，我的小寶寶
151
大海蟒
152
園丁和主人
153
跳蚤和教授
154
老約翰妮講了些什麽
155
大門鑰匙
156
跛腳的孩子
157
牙痛姨媽
158
最後的一天
159
亞麻
160
“真可愛”
161
海的女兒
162
鄰居們
163
夜鶯
164
小意達的花兒
165
她是一個廢物
譯後記
001
打火匣
002
皇帝的新裝
003
飛箱
004
醜小鴨
005
沒有畫的畫册
006
跳高者
007
紅鞋
008
襯衫領子
009
一個豆英裏的五粒豆
010
一個貴族和他的女兒們
011
守塔人奧列
012
蝴蝶
013
貝脫、比脫和比爾
014
爛布片
015
織補針
016
拇指姑娘
017
跳蚤和教授
018
區別
019
一本不說話的書
020
夏日癡
021
筆和墨水壺
022
風車
023
瓦爾都窗前的一瞥
024
甲蟲
025
幸福的家庭
026
完全是真的
027
薊的遭遇
028
新世紀的女神
029
各得其所
030
一星期的日子
031
錢豬
032
在遼遠的海極
033
荷馬墓上的一朵玫瑰
034
野天鵝
035
母親的故事
036
猶太女子
037
牙痛姑媽
038
金黃的寶貝
039
民歌的鳥兒
040
接骨木樹媽媽
041
沙丘的故 事
042
小剋勞斯和大剋勞斯
043
遷居的日子
044
鬼火進城了
045
幸運的套鞋
046
鸛鳥
047
樅樹
048
香腸栓熬的湯
049
牧羊女和掃煙囪的人
050
天上落下來的一片葉子
051
惡毒的王子
052
演木偶戲的人
053
舞吧，舞吧，我的玩偶
054
安妮·莉斯貝
055
素琪①
056
藏着並不等於遺忘
057
誰是最幸運的
058
鐘聲
059
頑皮的孩子
060
識字課本
061
老約翰妮講的故事
062
老墓碑
063
姑媽
064
墓裏的孩子
065
老路燈
066
老頭子做事總不會錯
067
老房子
068
天鵝的窠
069
創造
070
冰姑娘
071
小鬼和小商人
072
陽光的故事
073
依卜和小剋麗斯玎
074
夢神
075
老上帝還沒有滅亡
076
園丁和他的貴族主人
077
書法傢
078
茶壺
079
小小的緑東西
080
一點成績
081
天國花園
082
最難使人相信的事情
083
一枚銀毫
084
肉腸簽子湯
085
光棍漢的睡帽
086
做出點樣子來
087
老橡樹的最後一夢
088
字母讀本
089
沼澤王的女兒
090
跑得飛快的東西
091
鐘淵
092
狠毒的王子
093
多伊和他的女兒們
094
踩面包的姑娘
095
守塔人奧勒
096
安妮·莉絲貝特
097
孩子話
098
一串珍珠
099
墨水筆和墨水瓶
100
墓中的孩子
101
傢養公雞和風信公雞
102
沙岡那邊的一段故事
103
演木偶戲的人
104
兩兄弟
105
教堂古鐘
106
搭郵車來的十二位
107
屎殼郎
108
老爹做的事總是對的
109
雪人
110
在鴨場裏
111
新世紀的繆斯
112
冰姑娘
113
蝴蝶
114
普賽剋
115
蝸牛和玫瑰樹
116
害人鬼進城了
117
風磨
118
銀毫子
119
伯爾厄隆的主教和他的親眷
120
在幼兒室裏
121
金寶貝
122
狂風吹跑了招牌
123
茶壺
124
民歌的鳥
125
緑色的小東西
126
小精靈和太太
127
貝得、彼得和皮爾
128
隱存着並不就是被忘卻
129
看門人的兒子
130
搬遷日
131
謊報夏
132
姨媽
133
癩蛤蟆
134
教父的畫册
135
碎布塊
136
汶島和格棱島
137
誰最幸福
138
樹精
139
看雞人格瑞得的一傢
140
薊的經歷
141
你能琢磨出什麽
142
好運氣在一根簽子裏
143
彗星
144
一個星期的每一天
145
陽光的故 事
146
曾祖父
147
燭
148
最難令人相信的事
149
一傢人都怎樣說
150
跳吧，舞吧，我的小寶寶
151
大海蟒
152
園丁和主人
153
跳蚤和教授
154
老約翰妮講了些什麽
155
大門鑰匙
156
跛腳的孩子
157
牙痛姨媽
158
最後的一天
159
亞麻
160
“真可愛”
161
海的女兒
162
鄰居們
163
夜鶯
164
小意達的花兒
165
她是一個廢物
譯後記
天氣冷得可怕。正在下雪，黑暗的夜幕開始垂下來了。這是這年最後的一夜——新年的前夕。在這樣的寒冷和黑暗中，有一個光頭赤腳的小女孩正在街上走着。是的，她離開傢的時候還穿着一雙拖鞋，但那又有什麽用呢？那是一雙非常大的拖鞋——那麽大，最近她媽媽一直在穿着。當她匆忙地越過街道的時候，兩輛馬車飛奔着闖過來，弄得小姑娘把鞋跑落了。有一隻她怎樣也尋不到，另一隻又被一個男孩子撿起來，拿着逃走了。男孩子還說，等他將來有孩子的時候，可以把它當做一個搖籃來使用。
現在小姑娘衹好赤着一雙小腳走。小腳已經凍得發紅發青了。她有許多火柴包在一個舊圍裙裏；她手中還拿着一紮。這一整天誰也沒有嚮她買過一根；誰也沒有給她一個銅板。
可憐的小姑娘！她又餓又凍得嚮前走，簡直是一幅愁苦的畫面。雪花落到她金黃的長頭髮上——它捲麯地散落在她的肩上，看上去非常美麗。不過她並沒有想到自己漂亮。所有的窗子都射出光來，街上飄着一股烤鵝肉①的香味。的確，這是除夕。她在想這件事情。
那兒有兩座房子，其中一座房子比另一座更嚮街心伸出一點，她便在這個墻角裏坐下來，縮作一團。她把一雙小腳也縮進來，不過她感到更冷。她不敢回傢裏去，因為她沒有賣掉一根火柴，沒有賺到一個銅板。她的父親一定會打她，而且傢裏也是很冷的，因為他們頭上衹有一個可以灌進風來的屋頂，雖然最大的裂口已經用草和破布堵住了。
她的一雙小手幾乎凍僵了。唉！哪怕一根小火柴對她也是有好處的。衹要她敢抽出一根來，在墻上擦着了，就可以暖暖手！最後她抽出一根來了。哧！它燃起來了，冒出火光來了！當她把手覆在上面的時候，它便變成了一朵溫暖、光明的火焰，像是一根小小的蠟燭。這是一道美麗的小光！小姑娘覺得真像坐在一個鐵火爐旁邊一樣：它有光亮的黃銅圓捏手和黃銅爐身，火燒得那麽歡，那麽暖，那麽美！唉，這是怎麽一回事兒？當小姑娘剛剛伸出一雙腳，打算暖一暖腳的時候，火焰就忽然熄滅了！火爐也不見了。她坐在那兒，手中衹有燒過了的火柴。
她又擦了一根。它燃起來了，發出光來了。墻上有亮光照着的那塊地方，現在變得透明，像一片薄紗；她可以看到房間裏的東西：桌上鋪着雪白的臺布，上面有精緻的碗盤，填滿了梅子和蘋果的、冒着香氣的烤鵝。更美妙的事情是：這衹鵝從盤子裏跳出來了，背上插着刀叉，蹣跚地在地上走着，一直嚮這個窮苦的小姑娘面前走來。這時火柴就熄滅了；她面前衹有一堵又厚又冷的墻。
她點了另一根火柴。現在她是坐在美麗的聖誕樹下面。上次聖誕節時，她透過玻璃門，看到一個富有商人傢裏的一株聖誕樹；可是現在這一株比那株還要大，還要美。它的緑枝上燃着幾千支蠟燭；彩色的圖畫，跟櫥窗裏挂着的那些一樣美麗，在嚮她眨眼。這個小姑娘把兩衹手伸過去。於是火柴就熄滅了。聖誕節的燭光越升越高。她看到它們現在變成了明亮的星星。這些星星有一顆落下來了，在天上劃出一條長長的光綫。
“現在又有一個什麽人死去了②，”小姑娘說，因為她的老祖母曾經說過：天上落下一顆星，地上就有一個靈魂升到了上帝那兒去。老祖母是唯一對她好的人，但是現在已經死了。
她在墻上又擦了一根火柴。它把四周都照亮了；在這光亮中老祖母出現了。她顯得那麽光明，那麽溫柔，那麽和藹。
“祖母！”小姑娘叫起來。“啊！請把我帶走吧！我知道，這火柴一滅掉，你就會不見了，你就會像那個溫暖的火爐、那衹美麗的烤鵝、那棵幸福的聖誕樹一樣地不見了！”
於是她急忙把整束火柴中剩下的火柴都擦亮了，因為她非常想把祖母留住。這些火柴發出強烈的光芒，照得比大白天還要明朗。祖母從來沒有像現在這樣顯得美麗和高大。她把小姑娘抱起來，摟到懷裏。她們兩人在光明和快樂中飛走了，越飛越高，飛到既沒有寒冷，也沒有饑餓，也沒有憂愁的那塊地方——她們是跟上帝在一起。
不過在一個寒冷的早晨，這個小姑娘卻坐在一個墻角裏；她的雙頰通紅，嘴唇發出微笑，她已經死了——在舊年的除夕凍死了。新年的太陽升起來了，照着她小小的屍體！她坐在那兒，手中還捏着火柴——其中有一紮差不多都燒光了。
“她想把自己暖和一下，”人們說。誰也不知道：她曾經看到過多麽美麗的東西，她曾經是多麽光榮地跟祖母一起，走到新年的幸福中去。
①烤鵝肉是丹麥聖誕節和除夕晚餐中的一個主菜。
②北歐人的迷信：世界上有一個人，天上便有一顆星。一顆星的隕落象徵一個人的死亡。
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.
Another version:
The Little Match Girl
by Hans Christian Anderson
Once upon a time . . . a little girl tried to make a living by selling matches in the street.
It was New Year's Eve and the snow-clad streets were deserted. From brightly lit windows came the tinkle of laughter and the sound of singing. People were getting ready to bring in the New Year. But the poor little match seller sat sadly beside the fountain. Her ragged dress and worn shawl did not keep out the cold and she tried to keep her bare feet from touching the frozen ground. She hadn't sold one box of matches all day and she was frightened to go home, for her father would certainly be angry. It wouldn't be much warmer anyway, in the draughty attic that was her home. The little girl's fingers were stiff with cold. If only she could light a match! But what would her father say at such a waste! Falteringly she took out a match and lit it. What a nice warm flame! The little match seller cupped her hand over it, and as she did so, she magically saw in its light a big brightly burning stove.
She held out her hands to the heat, but just then the match went out and the vision faded. The night seemed blacker than before and it was getting colder. A shiver ran through the little girl's thin body.
After hesitating for a long time, she struck another match on the wall, and this time, the glimmer turned the wall into a great sheet of crystal. Beyond that stood a fine table laden with food and lit by a candlestick. Holding out her arms towards the plates, the little match-seller seemed to pass through the glass, but then the match went out and the magic faded. Poor thing: in just a few seconds she had caught a glimpse of everything that life had denied her: warmth and good things to eat. Her eyes filled with tears and she lifted her gaze to the lit windows, praying that she too might know a little of such happiness.
She lit the third match and an even more wonderful thing happened. There stood a Christmas tree hung with hundreds of candles, glittering with tinsel and coloured balls. "Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed the little match seller, holding up the match. Then, the match burned her finger and flickered out. The light from the Christmas candles rose higher and higher, then one of the lights fell, leaving a trail behind it. "Someone is dying," murmured the little girl, as she remembered her beloved Granny who used to say: "When a star falls, a heart stops beating!"
Scarcely aware of what she was doing, the little match seller lit another match. This time, she saw her grandmother.
"Granny, stay with me!" she pleaded, as she lit one match after the other, so that her grandmother could not disappear like all the other visions. However, Granny did not vanish, but gazed smilingly at her. Then she opened her arms and the little girl hugged her crying: "Granny, take me away with you!"
A cold day dawned and a pale sun shone on the fountain and the icy road. Close by lay the lifeless body of a little girl surrounded by spent matches. "Poor little thing!" exclaimed the passers-by. "She was trying to keep warm!"
But by that time, the little match seller was far away where there is neither cold, hunger nor pain.
現在小姑娘衹好赤着一雙小腳走。小腳已經凍得發紅發青了。她有許多火柴包在一個舊圍裙裏；她手中還拿着一紮。這一整天誰也沒有嚮她買過一根；誰也沒有給她一個銅板。
可憐的小姑娘！她又餓又凍得嚮前走，簡直是一幅愁苦的畫面。雪花落到她金黃的長頭髮上——它捲麯地散落在她的肩上，看上去非常美麗。不過她並沒有想到自己漂亮。所有的窗子都射出光來，街上飄着一股烤鵝肉①的香味。的確，這是除夕。她在想這件事情。
那兒有兩座房子，其中一座房子比另一座更嚮街心伸出一點，她便在這個墻角裏坐下來，縮作一團。她把一雙小腳也縮進來，不過她感到更冷。她不敢回傢裏去，因為她沒有賣掉一根火柴，沒有賺到一個銅板。她的父親一定會打她，而且傢裏也是很冷的，因為他們頭上衹有一個可以灌進風來的屋頂，雖然最大的裂口已經用草和破布堵住了。
她的一雙小手幾乎凍僵了。唉！哪怕一根小火柴對她也是有好處的。衹要她敢抽出一根來，在墻上擦着了，就可以暖暖手！最後她抽出一根來了。哧！它燃起來了，冒出火光來了！當她把手覆在上面的時候，它便變成了一朵溫暖、光明的火焰，像是一根小小的蠟燭。這是一道美麗的小光！小姑娘覺得真像坐在一個鐵火爐旁邊一樣：它有光亮的黃銅圓捏手和黃銅爐身，火燒得那麽歡，那麽暖，那麽美！唉，這是怎麽一回事兒？當小姑娘剛剛伸出一雙腳，打算暖一暖腳的時候，火焰就忽然熄滅了！火爐也不見了。她坐在那兒，手中衹有燒過了的火柴。
她又擦了一根。它燃起來了，發出光來了。墻上有亮光照着的那塊地方，現在變得透明，像一片薄紗；她可以看到房間裏的東西：桌上鋪着雪白的臺布，上面有精緻的碗盤，填滿了梅子和蘋果的、冒着香氣的烤鵝。更美妙的事情是：這衹鵝從盤子裏跳出來了，背上插着刀叉，蹣跚地在地上走着，一直嚮這個窮苦的小姑娘面前走來。這時火柴就熄滅了；她面前衹有一堵又厚又冷的墻。
她點了另一根火柴。現在她是坐在美麗的聖誕樹下面。上次聖誕節時，她透過玻璃門，看到一個富有商人傢裏的一株聖誕樹；可是現在這一株比那株還要大，還要美。它的緑枝上燃着幾千支蠟燭；彩色的圖畫，跟櫥窗裏挂着的那些一樣美麗，在嚮她眨眼。這個小姑娘把兩衹手伸過去。於是火柴就熄滅了。聖誕節的燭光越升越高。她看到它們現在變成了明亮的星星。這些星星有一顆落下來了，在天上劃出一條長長的光綫。
“現在又有一個什麽人死去了②，”小姑娘說，因為她的老祖母曾經說過：天上落下一顆星，地上就有一個靈魂升到了上帝那兒去。老祖母是唯一對她好的人，但是現在已經死了。
她在墻上又擦了一根火柴。它把四周都照亮了；在這光亮中老祖母出現了。她顯得那麽光明，那麽溫柔，那麽和藹。
“祖母！”小姑娘叫起來。“啊！請把我帶走吧！我知道，這火柴一滅掉，你就會不見了，你就會像那個溫暖的火爐、那衹美麗的烤鵝、那棵幸福的聖誕樹一樣地不見了！”
於是她急忙把整束火柴中剩下的火柴都擦亮了，因為她非常想把祖母留住。這些火柴發出強烈的光芒，照得比大白天還要明朗。祖母從來沒有像現在這樣顯得美麗和高大。她把小姑娘抱起來，摟到懷裏。她們兩人在光明和快樂中飛走了，越飛越高，飛到既沒有寒冷，也沒有饑餓，也沒有憂愁的那塊地方——她們是跟上帝在一起。
不過在一個寒冷的早晨，這個小姑娘卻坐在一個墻角裏；她的雙頰通紅，嘴唇發出微笑，她已經死了——在舊年的除夕凍死了。新年的太陽升起來了，照着她小小的屍體！她坐在那兒，手中還捏着火柴——其中有一紮差不多都燒光了。
“她想把自己暖和一下，”人們說。誰也不知道：她曾經看到過多麽美麗的東西，她曾經是多麽光榮地跟祖母一起，走到新年的幸福中去。
①烤鵝肉是丹麥聖誕節和除夕晚餐中的一個主菜。
②北歐人的迷信：世界上有一個人，天上便有一顆星。一顆星的隕落象徵一個人的死亡。
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.
Another version:
The Little Match Girl
by Hans Christian Anderson
Once upon a time . . . a little girl tried to make a living by selling matches in the street.
It was New Year's Eve and the snow-clad streets were deserted. From brightly lit windows came the tinkle of laughter and the sound of singing. People were getting ready to bring in the New Year. But the poor little match seller sat sadly beside the fountain. Her ragged dress and worn shawl did not keep out the cold and she tried to keep her bare feet from touching the frozen ground. She hadn't sold one box of matches all day and she was frightened to go home, for her father would certainly be angry. It wouldn't be much warmer anyway, in the draughty attic that was her home. The little girl's fingers were stiff with cold. If only she could light a match! But what would her father say at such a waste! Falteringly she took out a match and lit it. What a nice warm flame! The little match seller cupped her hand over it, and as she did so, she magically saw in its light a big brightly burning stove.
She held out her hands to the heat, but just then the match went out and the vision faded. The night seemed blacker than before and it was getting colder. A shiver ran through the little girl's thin body.
After hesitating for a long time, she struck another match on the wall, and this time, the glimmer turned the wall into a great sheet of crystal. Beyond that stood a fine table laden with food and lit by a candlestick. Holding out her arms towards the plates, the little match-seller seemed to pass through the glass, but then the match went out and the magic faded. Poor thing: in just a few seconds she had caught a glimpse of everything that life had denied her: warmth and good things to eat. Her eyes filled with tears and she lifted her gaze to the lit windows, praying that she too might know a little of such happiness.
She lit the third match and an even more wonderful thing happened. There stood a Christmas tree hung with hundreds of candles, glittering with tinsel and coloured balls. "Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed the little match seller, holding up the match. Then, the match burned her finger and flickered out. The light from the Christmas candles rose higher and higher, then one of the lights fell, leaving a trail behind it. "Someone is dying," murmured the little girl, as she remembered her beloved Granny who used to say: "When a star falls, a heart stops beating!"
Scarcely aware of what she was doing, the little match seller lit another match. This time, she saw her grandmother.
"Granny, stay with me!" she pleaded, as she lit one match after the other, so that her grandmother could not disappear like all the other visions. However, Granny did not vanish, but gazed smilingly at her. Then she opened her arms and the little girl hugged her crying: "Granny, take me away with you!"
A cold day dawned and a pale sun shone on the fountain and the icy road. Close by lay the lifeless body of a little girl surrounded by spent matches. "Poor little thing!" exclaimed the passers-by. "She was trying to keep warm!"
But by that time, the little match seller was far away where there is neither cold, hunger nor pain.