安徒生的童话故事体现了丹麦文学中的民主传统和现实主义倾向。他的最好的童话脍炙人口，到今天还为世界上众多的成年人和儿童所传诵。有些童话如《卖火柴的小女孩》（The Little Match Girl）、《丑小鸭》（The Ugly Duckling）《看门人的儿子》等，既真实地描绘了穷苦人的悲惨生活，又渗透着浪漫主义的情调和幻想。由于作者出身贫寒，对于社会上贫富不均、弱肉强食的现象感受极深，因此他一方面以真挚的笔触热烈歌颂劳动人民，同情不幸的穷人，赞美他们的善良、纯洁等高尚品质；另一方面又愤怒地鞭挞了残暴、贪婪、虚弱、愚蠢的反动统治阶级和剥削者，揭露了教会僧侣的丑行和人们的种种陋习，不遗余力地批判了社会罪恶。《皇帝的新装》（The Emperor's New Clothes）辛辣地讽刺了皇帝的昏庸无能和朝臣们阿谀逢迎的丑态；《夜莺》（The Nightingale）和《豌豆上的公主》（The Princess and the Pea）嘲笑了贵族的无知和脆弱。他在最后一部作品《园丁和主人》中，还着力塑造了一个真正的爱国者的形象，反映了作者本人始终不渝的爱国主义精神。
安徒生的一些童话故事，特别是晚期的某些作品，也显示出他思想上的局限性。他虽然把满腔同情倾注在穷苦人身上，但因找不到摆脱不幸的道路，又以伤感的眼光看待世界，流露出消极情绪。他认为上帝是真、善、美的化身，可以引导人们走向“幸福”。他在作品中有时也进行道德说教，宣扬基督教的博爱思想，提倡容忍与和解的精神。
安徒生的童话同民间文学有着血缘关系，继承并发扬了民间文学的朴素清新的格调。他早期的作品大多数取材于民间故事，后期创作中也引用了很多民间歌谣和传说。
在体裁和写作手法上，安徒生的作品是多样化的，有童话故事，也有短篇小说；有寓言，也有诗歌；既适合于儿童阅读，也适合于成年人鉴赏。他创造的艺术形象，如：没有穿衣服的皇帝、坚定的锡兵、拇指姑娘、丑小鸭、红鞋等，已成为欧洲语言中的典故。
在语言风格上，安徒生是一个有高度创造性的作家，在作品中大量运用丹麦下层人民的日常口语和民间故事的结构形式。语言生动、自然、流畅、优美、充满浓郁的乡土气息。
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.
安徒生的一些童话故事，特别是晚期的某些作品，也显示出他思想上的局限性。他虽然把满腔同情倾注在穷苦人身上，但因找不到摆脱不幸的道路，又以伤感的眼光看待世界，流露出消极情绪。他认为上帝是真、善、美的化身，可以引导人们走向“幸福”。他在作品中有时也进行道德说教，宣扬基督教的博爱思想，提倡容忍与和解的精神。
安徒生的童话同民间文学有着血缘关系，继承并发扬了民间文学的朴素清新的格调。他早期的作品大多数取材于民间故事，后期创作中也引用了很多民间歌谣和传说。
在体裁和写作手法上，安徒生的作品是多样化的，有童话故事，也有短篇小说；有寓言，也有诗歌；既适合于儿童阅读，也适合于成年人鉴赏。他创造的艺术形象，如：没有穿衣服的皇帝、坚定的锡兵、拇指姑娘、丑小鸭、红鞋等，已成为欧洲语言中的典故。
在语言风格上，安徒生是一个有高度创造性的作家，在作品中大量运用丹麦下层人民的日常口语和民间故事的结构形式。语言生动、自然、流畅、优美、充满浓郁的乡土气息。
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.
本版是林桦1995年译的，但当我翻看其中字句时，却发现至少《打火匣》及《野天鹅》与与叶氏译本全无二致，到底为何如此，却非我能了解。不过如果全部如此，至少可以保证此版本的质量不差。另外其中有重复的地方，如51与92。我会在有暇时仔细查对，然后补上缺少的部分。因为，安徒生是我至爱的一个作家。（宇慧编后记）
001
打火匣
002
皇帝的新装
003
飞箱
004
丑小鸭
005
没有画的画册
006
跳高者
007
红鞋
008
衬衫领子
009
一个豆英里的五粒豆
010
一个贵族和他的女儿们
011
守塔人奥列
012
蝴蝶
013
贝脱、比脱和比尔
014
烂布片
015
织补针
016
拇指姑娘
017
跳蚤和教授
018
区别
019
一本不说话的书
020
夏日痴
021
笔和墨水壶
022
风车
023
瓦尔都窗前的一瞥
024
甲虫
025
幸福的家庭
026
完全是真的
027
蓟的遭遇
028
新世纪的女神
029
各得其所
030
一星期的日子
031
钱猪
032
在辽远的海极
033
荷马墓上的一朵玫瑰
034
野天鹅
035
母亲的故事
036
犹太女子
037
牙痛姑妈
038
金黄的宝贝
039
民歌的鸟儿
040
接骨木树妈妈
041
沙丘的故 事
042
小克劳斯和大克劳斯
043
迁居的日子
044
鬼火进城了
045
幸运的套鞋
046
鹳鸟
047
枞树
048
香肠栓熬的汤
049
牧羊女和扫烟囱的人
050
天上落下来的一片叶子
051
恶毒的王子
052
演木偶戏的人
053
舞吧，舞吧，我的玩偶
054
安妮·莉斯贝
055
素琪①
056
藏着并不等于遗忘
057
谁是最幸运的
058
钟声
059
顽皮的孩子
060
识字课本
061
老约翰妮讲的故事
062
老墓碑
063
姑妈
064
墓里的孩子
065
老路灯
066
老头子做事总不会错
067
老房子
068
天鹅的窠
069
创造
070
冰姑娘
071
小鬼和小商人
072
阳光的故事
073
依卜和小克丽斯玎
074
梦神
075
老上帝还没有灭亡
076
园丁和他的贵族主人
077
书法家
078
茶壶
079
小小的绿东西
080
一点成绩
081
天国花园
082
最难使人相信的事情
083
一枚银毫
084
肉肠签子汤
085
光棍汉的睡帽
086
做出点样子来
087
老橡树的最后一梦
088
字母读本
089
沼泽王的女儿
090
跑得飞快的东西
091
钟渊
092
狠毒的王子
093
多伊和他的女儿们
094
踩面包的姑娘
095
守塔人奥勒
096
安妮·莉丝贝特
097
孩子话
098
一串珍珠
099
墨水笔和墨水瓶
100
墓中的孩子
101
家养公鸡和风信公鸡
102
沙冈那边的一段故事
103
演木偶戏的人
104
两兄弟
105
教堂古钟
106
搭邮车来的十二位
107
屎壳郎
108
老爹做的事总是对的
109
雪人
110
在鸭场里
111
新世纪的缪斯
112
冰姑娘
113
蝴蝶
114
普赛克
115
蜗牛和玫瑰树
116
害人鬼进城了
117
风磨
118
银毫子
119
伯尔厄隆的主教和他的亲眷
120
在幼儿室里
121
金宝贝
122
狂风吹跑了招牌
123
茶壶
124
民歌的鸟
125
绿色的小东西
126
小精灵和太太
127
贝得、彼得和皮尔
128
隐存着并不就是被忘却
129
看门人的儿子
130
搬迁日
131
谎报夏
132
姨妈
133
癞蛤蟆
134
教父的画册
135
碎布块
136
汶岛和格棱岛
137
谁最幸福
138
树精
139
看鸡人格瑞得的一家
140
蓟的经历
141
你能琢磨出什么
142
好运气在一根签子里
143
彗星
144
一个星期的每一天
145
阳光的故 事
146
曾祖父
147
烛
148
最难令人相信的事
149
一家人都怎样说
150
跳吧，舞吧，我的小宝宝
151
大海蟒
152
园丁和主人
153
跳蚤和教授
154
老约翰妮讲了些什么
155
大门钥匙
156
跛脚的孩子
157
牙痛姨妈
158
最后的一天
159
亚麻
160
“真可爱”
161
海的女儿
162
邻居们
163
夜莺
164
小意达的花儿
165
她是一个废物
译后记
001
打火匣
002
皇帝的新装
003
飞箱
004
丑小鸭
005
没有画的画册
006
跳高者
007
红鞋
008
衬衫领子
009
一个豆英里的五粒豆
010
一个贵族和他的女儿们
011
守塔人奥列
012
蝴蝶
013
贝脱、比脱和比尔
014
烂布片
015
织补针
016
拇指姑娘
017
跳蚤和教授
018
区别
019
一本不说话的书
020
夏日痴
021
笔和墨水壶
022
风车
023
瓦尔都窗前的一瞥
024
甲虫
025
幸福的家庭
026
完全是真的
027
蓟的遭遇
028
新世纪的女神
029
各得其所
030
一星期的日子
031
钱猪
032
在辽远的海极
033
荷马墓上的一朵玫瑰
034
野天鹅
035
母亲的故事
036
犹太女子
037
牙痛姑妈
038
金黄的宝贝
039
民歌的鸟儿
040
接骨木树妈妈
041
沙丘的故 事
042
小克劳斯和大克劳斯
043
迁居的日子
044
鬼火进城了
045
幸运的套鞋
046
鹳鸟
047
枞树
048
香肠栓熬的汤
049
牧羊女和扫烟囱的人
050
天上落下来的一片叶子
051
恶毒的王子
052
演木偶戏的人
053
舞吧，舞吧，我的玩偶
054
安妮·莉斯贝
055
素琪①
056
藏着并不等于遗忘
057
谁是最幸运的
058
钟声
059
顽皮的孩子
060
识字课本
061
老约翰妮讲的故事
062
老墓碑
063
姑妈
064
墓里的孩子
065
老路灯
066
老头子做事总不会错
067
老房子
068
天鹅的窠
069
创造
070
冰姑娘
071
小鬼和小商人
072
阳光的故事
073
依卜和小克丽斯玎
074
梦神
075
老上帝还没有灭亡
076
园丁和他的贵族主人
077
书法家
078
茶壶
079
小小的绿东西
080
一点成绩
081
天国花园
082
最难使人相信的事情
083
一枚银毫
084
肉肠签子汤
085
光棍汉的睡帽
086
做出点样子来
087
老橡树的最后一梦
088
字母读本
089
沼泽王的女儿
090
跑得飞快的东西
091
钟渊
092
狠毒的王子
093
多伊和他的女儿们
094
踩面包的姑娘
095
守塔人奥勒
096
安妮·莉丝贝特
097
孩子话
098
一串珍珠
099
墨水笔和墨水瓶
100
墓中的孩子
101
家养公鸡和风信公鸡
102
沙冈那边的一段故事
103
演木偶戏的人
104
两兄弟
105
教堂古钟
106
搭邮车来的十二位
107
屎壳郎
108
老爹做的事总是对的
109
雪人
110
在鸭场里
111
新世纪的缪斯
112
冰姑娘
113
蝴蝶
114
普赛克
115
蜗牛和玫瑰树
116
害人鬼进城了
117
风磨
118
银毫子
119
伯尔厄隆的主教和他的亲眷
120
在幼儿室里
121
金宝贝
122
狂风吹跑了招牌
123
茶壶
124
民歌的鸟
125
绿色的小东西
126
小精灵和太太
127
贝得、彼得和皮尔
128
隐存着并不就是被忘却
129
看门人的儿子
130
搬迁日
131
谎报夏
132
姨妈
133
癞蛤蟆
134
教父的画册
135
碎布块
136
汶岛和格棱岛
137
谁最幸福
138
树精
139
看鸡人格瑞得的一家
140
蓟的经历
141
你能琢磨出什么
142
好运气在一根签子里
143
彗星
144
一个星期的每一天
145
阳光的故 事
146
曾祖父
147
烛
148
最难令人相信的事
149
一家人都怎样说
150
跳吧，舞吧，我的小宝宝
151
大海蟒
152
园丁和主人
153
跳蚤和教授
154
老约翰妮讲了些什么
155
大门钥匙
156
跛脚的孩子
157
牙痛姨妈
158
最后的一天
159
亚麻
160
“真可爱”
161
海的女儿
162
邻居们
163
夜莺
164
小意达的花儿
165
她是一个废物
译后记
天气冷得可怕。正在下雪，黑暗的夜幕开始垂下来了。这是这年最后的一夜——新年的前夕。在这样的寒冷和黑暗中，有一个光头赤脚的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？那是一双非常大的拖鞋——那么大，最近她妈妈一直在穿着。当她匆忙地越过街道的时候，两辆马车飞奔着闯过来，弄得小姑娘把鞋跑落了。有一只她怎样也寻不到，另一只又被一个男孩子捡起来，拿着逃走了。男孩子还说，等他将来有孩子的时候，可以把它当做一个摇篮来使用。
现在小姑娘只好赤着一双小脚走。小脚已经冻得发红发青了。她有许多火柴包在一个旧围裙里；她手中还拿着一扎。这一整天谁也没有向她买过一根；谁也没有给她一个铜板。
可怜的小姑娘！她又饿又冻得向前走，简直是一幅愁苦的画面。雪花落到她金黄的长头发上——它卷曲地散落在她的肩上，看上去非常美丽。不过她并没有想到自己漂亮。所有的窗子都射出光来，街上飘着一股烤鹅肉①的香味。的确，这是除夕。她在想这件事情。
那儿有两座房子，其中一座房子比另一座更向街心伸出一点，她便在这个墙角里坐下来，缩作一团。她把一双小脚也缩进来，不过她感到更冷。她不敢回家里去，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，因为他们头上只有一个可以灌进风来的屋顶，虽然最大的裂口已经用草和破布堵住了。
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，在墙上擦着了，就可以暖暖手！最后她抽出一根来了。哧！它燃起来了，冒出火光来了！当她把手覆在上面的时候，它便变成了一朵温暖、光明的火焰，像是一根小小的蜡烛。这是一道美丽的小光！小姑娘觉得真像坐在一个铁火炉旁边一样：它有光亮的黄铜圆捏手和黄铜炉身，火烧得那么欢，那么暖，那么美！唉，这是怎么一回事儿？当小姑娘刚刚伸出一双脚，打算暖一暖脚的时候，火焰就忽然熄灭了！火炉也不见了。她坐在那儿，手中只有烧过了的火柴。
她又擦了一根。它燃起来了，发出光来了。墙上有亮光照着的那块地方，现在变得透明，像一片薄纱；她可以看到房间里的东西：桌上铺着雪白的台布，上面有精致的碗盘，填满了梅子和苹果的、冒着香气的烤鹅。更美妙的事情是：这只鹅从盘子里跳出来了，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面前走来。这时火柴就熄灭了；她面前只有一堵又厚又冷的墙。
她点了另一根火柴。现在她是坐在美丽的圣诞树下面。上次圣诞节时，她透过玻璃门，看到一个富有商人家里的一株圣诞树；可是现在这一株比那株还要大，还要美。它的绿枝上燃着几千支蜡烛；彩色的图画，跟橱窗里挂着的那些一样美丽，在向她眨眼。这个小姑娘把两只手伸过去。于是火柴就熄灭了。圣诞节的烛光越升越高。她看到它们现在变成了明亮的星星。这些星星有一颗落下来了，在天上划出一条长长的光线。
“现在又有一个什么人死去了②，”小姑娘说，因为她的老祖母曾经说过：天上落下一颗星，地上就有一个灵魂升到了上帝那儿去。老祖母是唯一对她好的人，但是现在已经死了。
她在墙上又擦了一根火柴。它把四周都照亮了；在这光亮中老祖母出现了。她显得那么光明，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，你就会不见了，你就会像那个温暖的火炉、那只美丽的烤鹅、那棵幸福的圣诞树一样地不见了！”
于是她急忙把整束火柴中剩下的火柴都擦亮了，因为她非常想把祖母留住。这些火柴发出强烈的光芒，照得比大白天还要明朗。祖母从来没有像现在这样显得美丽和高大。她把小姑娘抱起来，搂到怀里。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，也没有忧愁的那块地方——她们是跟上帝在一起。
不过在一个寒冷的早晨，这个小姑娘却坐在一个墙角里；她的双颊通红，嘴唇发出微笑，她已经死了——在旧年的除夕冻死了。新年的太阳升起来了，照着她小小的尸体！她坐在那儿，手中还捏着火柴——其中有一扎差不多都烧光了。
“她想把自己暖和一下，”人们说。谁也不知道：她曾经看到过多么美丽的东西，她曾经是多么光荣地跟祖母一起，走到新年的幸福中去。
①烤鹅肉是丹麦圣诞节和除夕晚餐中的一个主菜。
②北欧人的迷信：世界上有一个人，天上便有一颗星。一颗星的陨落象征一个人的死亡。
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.
现在小姑娘只好赤着一双小脚走。小脚已经冻得发红发青了。她有许多火柴包在一个旧围裙里；她手中还拿着一扎。这一整天谁也没有向她买过一根；谁也没有给她一个铜板。
可怜的小姑娘！她又饿又冻得向前走，简直是一幅愁苦的画面。雪花落到她金黄的长头发上——它卷曲地散落在她的肩上，看上去非常美丽。不过她并没有想到自己漂亮。所有的窗子都射出光来，街上飘着一股烤鹅肉①的香味。的确，这是除夕。她在想这件事情。
那儿有两座房子，其中一座房子比另一座更向街心伸出一点，她便在这个墙角里坐下来，缩作一团。她把一双小脚也缩进来，不过她感到更冷。她不敢回家里去，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，因为他们头上只有一个可以灌进风来的屋顶，虽然最大的裂口已经用草和破布堵住了。
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，在墙上擦着了，就可以暖暖手！最后她抽出一根来了。哧！它燃起来了，冒出火光来了！当她把手覆在上面的时候，它便变成了一朵温暖、光明的火焰，像是一根小小的蜡烛。这是一道美丽的小光！小姑娘觉得真像坐在一个铁火炉旁边一样：它有光亮的黄铜圆捏手和黄铜炉身，火烧得那么欢，那么暖，那么美！唉，这是怎么一回事儿？当小姑娘刚刚伸出一双脚，打算暖一暖脚的时候，火焰就忽然熄灭了！火炉也不见了。她坐在那儿，手中只有烧过了的火柴。
她又擦了一根。它燃起来了，发出光来了。墙上有亮光照着的那块地方，现在变得透明，像一片薄纱；她可以看到房间里的东西：桌上铺着雪白的台布，上面有精致的碗盘，填满了梅子和苹果的、冒着香气的烤鹅。更美妙的事情是：这只鹅从盘子里跳出来了，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面前走来。这时火柴就熄灭了；她面前只有一堵又厚又冷的墙。
她点了另一根火柴。现在她是坐在美丽的圣诞树下面。上次圣诞节时，她透过玻璃门，看到一个富有商人家里的一株圣诞树；可是现在这一株比那株还要大，还要美。它的绿枝上燃着几千支蜡烛；彩色的图画，跟橱窗里挂着的那些一样美丽，在向她眨眼。这个小姑娘把两只手伸过去。于是火柴就熄灭了。圣诞节的烛光越升越高。她看到它们现在变成了明亮的星星。这些星星有一颗落下来了，在天上划出一条长长的光线。
“现在又有一个什么人死去了②，”小姑娘说，因为她的老祖母曾经说过：天上落下一颗星，地上就有一个灵魂升到了上帝那儿去。老祖母是唯一对她好的人，但是现在已经死了。
她在墙上又擦了一根火柴。它把四周都照亮了；在这光亮中老祖母出现了。她显得那么光明，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，你就会不见了，你就会像那个温暖的火炉、那只美丽的烤鹅、那棵幸福的圣诞树一样地不见了！”
于是她急忙把整束火柴中剩下的火柴都擦亮了，因为她非常想把祖母留住。这些火柴发出强烈的光芒，照得比大白天还要明朗。祖母从来没有像现在这样显得美丽和高大。她把小姑娘抱起来，搂到怀里。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，也没有忧愁的那块地方——她们是跟上帝在一起。
不过在一个寒冷的早晨，这个小姑娘却坐在一个墙角里；她的双颊通红，嘴唇发出微笑，她已经死了——在旧年的除夕冻死了。新年的太阳升起来了，照着她小小的尸体！她坐在那儿，手中还捏着火柴——其中有一扎差不多都烧光了。
“她想把自己暖和一下，”人们说。谁也不知道：她曾经看到过多么美丽的东西，她曾经是多么光荣地跟祖母一起，走到新年的幸福中去。
①烤鹅肉是丹麦圣诞节和除夕晚餐中的一个主菜。
②北欧人的迷信：世界上有一个人，天上便有一颗星。一颗星的陨落象征一个人的死亡。
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.