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英语童话故事翻译

时间:2022-02-24 00:00:00 分类:日志大全

  童话对儿童来说具有重要的发展价值,对教育者来说具有重要的教育学意义,下面这些是小编为大家推荐的几篇英语童话故事翻译

英语童话故事翻译:THE DUMB BOOK

  IN the high-road which led through a wood stood a solitary farm-house; the road, in fact, ranright through its yard. The sun was shining and all the windows were open; within the housepeople were very busy. In the yard, in an arbour formed by lilac bushes in full bloom, stood anopen coffin; thither they had carried a dead man, who was to be buried that very afternoon.Nobody shed a tear over him; his face was covered over with a white cloth, under his head theyhad placed a large thick book, the leaves of which consisted of folded sheets of blotting-paper,and withered flowers lay between them; it was the herbarium which he had gathered in variousplaces and was to be buried with him, according to his own wish.

  Every one of the flowers in itwas connected with some chapter of his life. "Who is the dead man?" we asked. "The oldstudent," was the reply. "They say that he was once an energetic young man, that he studiedthe dead languages, and sang and even composed many songs; then something hadhappened to him, and in consequence of this he gave himself up to drink, body and mind.When at last he had ruined his health, they brought him into the country, where someone paidfor his board and residence. He was gentle as a child as long as the sullen mood did not comeover him;

  but when it came he was fierce, became as strong as a giant, and ran about in thewood like a chased deer. But when we succeeded in bringing him home, and prevailed upon himto open the book with the dried-up plants in it, he would sometimes sit for a whole day lookingat this or that plant, while frequently the tears rolled over his cheeks. God knows what was inhis mind; but he requested us to put the book into his coffin, and now he lies there. In a littlewhile the lid will be placed upon the coffin, and he will have sweet rest in the grave!" The clothwhich covered his face was lifted up;

  the dead man's face expressed peace- a sunbeam fellupon it. A swallow flew with the swiftness of an arrow into the arbour, turning in its flight,and twittered over the dead man's head. What a strange feeling it is- surely we all know it- tolook through old letters of our young days; a different life rises up out of the past, as it were,with all its hopes and sorrows. How many of the people with whom in those days we used to beon intimate terms appear to us as if dead, and yet they are still alive- only we have notthought of them for such a long time, whom we imagined we should retain in our memories forever, and share every joy and sorrow with them. The withered oak leaf in the book here recalledthe friend, the schoolfellow, who was to be his friend for life.

  He fixed the leaf to the student'scap in the green wood, when they vowed eternal friendship. Where does he dwell now? The leafis kept, but the friendship does no longer exist. Here is a foreign hothouse plant, too tender forthe gardens of the North. It is almost as if its leaves still smelt sweet! She gave it to him out ofher own garden- a nobleman's daughter. Here is a water-lily that he had plucked himself, andwatered with salt tears- a lily of sweet water.

  And here is a nettle: what may its leaves tell us?What might he have thought when he plucked and kept it? Here is a little snowdrop out of thesolitary wood;

  here is an evergreen from the flower-pot at the tavern; and here is a simpleblade of grass. The lilac bends its fresh fragrant flowers over the dead man's head; theswallow passes again- "twit, twit;" now the men come with hammer and nails, the lid isplaced over the dead man, while his head rests on the dumb book- so long cherished, nowclosed for ever!

  一本不说话的书

  在公路旁的一个树林里,有一个孤独的农庄。人们沿着公路可以一直走进这农家的大院子里去。太阳在这儿照着;所有的窗子都是开着的。房子里面是一起忙碌的声音;但在院子里,在一个开满了花的紫丁香组成的凉亭下,停着一口敞着的棺材。一个死人已经躺在里面,这天上午就要入葬。棺材旁没有守着任何一个悼念死者的人;没有任何人对他流一滴眼泪。他的面孔是用一块白布盖着的,他的头底下垫着一大本厚书。书页是由一整张灰纸叠成的;每一页上夹着一朵被忘记了的萎谢了的花。这是一本完整的植物标本,在许多不同的地方搜集得来的。它要陪死者一起被埋葬掉,因为这是他的遗嘱。每朵花都联系到他生命的一章。“死者是谁呢?”我们问。回答是:“他是乌卜萨拉的一个老学生(註:乌卜萨拉是瑞典一个古老的大学。这儿常常有些学生,到老还没有毕业。)。人们说:他曾经是一个活泼的年轻人;他懂得古代的文学,他会唱歌,他甚至还写诗。但是由於他曾经遭遇到某种事故,他把他的思想和他的生命沉浸在烧酒里。当他的健康最后也毁在酒里的时候,他就搬到这个乡下来。别人供给他膳宿。只要阴郁的情绪不来袭击他的时候,他是纯洁得像一个孩子,因为这时他就变得非常活泼,在森林里跑来跑去,像一只被追逐着的雄鹿。不过,只要我们把他喊回家来,让他看看这本装满了干植物的书,他就能坐一整天,一会儿看看这种植物,一会儿看看那种植物。有时他的眼泪就沿着他的脸滚下来:只有上帝知道他在想甚么东西!但是他要求把这本书装进他的棺材里去。因此现在它就躺在那里面。不一会儿棺材盖子就会钉上,那么他将在坟墓里得到他的安息。”

  他的面布揭开了。死人的面上露出一种和平的表情。一丝太阳光射在它上面。一只燕子像箭似地飞进凉亭里来,很快地掉转身,在死人的头上喃喃地叫了几声。

  我们都知道,假如我们把我们年轻时代的旧信拿出来读读,我们会产生一种多么奇怪的感觉啊!整个的一生和这生命中的希望和哀愁都会浮现出来。我们在那时来往很亲密的一些人,现在该是有多少已经死去了啊!然而他们还是活着的,只不过我们长久没有想到他们罢了。那时我们以为永远会跟他们亲密地生活在一起,会跟他们一起共甘苦。

  这书里面有一起萎枯了的栎树叶子。它使这书的主人记起一个老朋友——一个老同学,一个终身的友伴。他在一个绿树林里面把这片叶子插在学生帽上,从那时其他们结为“终身的”朋友。现在他住在甚么地方呢?这片叶子被保存了下来,但是友情已经忘记了!

  这儿有一棵异国的、在温室里培养出来的植物;对於北国的花园说来,它是太娇嫩了;它的叶子似乎还保留着它的香气。这是一位贵族花园里的小姐把它摘下来送给他的。

  这儿有一朵睡莲。它是他亲手摘下来的,并且用他的鹹眼泪把它润湿过——这朵在甜水里生长的睡莲。

  这儿有一根荨麻——它的叶子说明甚么呢?当他把它採下来和把它保存下来的时候,他心中在想些甚么呢?

  这儿有一朵幽居在森林里的铃兰花;这儿有一朵从酒店的花盆里摘下来的金银花;这儿有一起尖尖的草叶!

  开满了花的紫丁香在死者的头上轻轻垂下它新鲜的、芬芳的花簇。燕子又飞过去了。“唧唧!唧唧!”这时人们拿着钉子和锤子走来了。棺材盖在死者身上盖下了——他的头在这本不说话的书上安息。埋葬了——遗忘了!

英语童话故事翻译:THE DROP OF WATER

  OF course you know what is meant by a magnifying glass-one of those round spectacle-glassesthat make everything look a hundred times bigger than it is? When any one takes one of theseand holds it to his eye, and looks at a drop of water from the pond yonder, he sees above athousand wonderful creatures that are otherwise never discerned in the water. But there theyare, and it is no delusion. It almost looks like a great plateful of spiders jumping about in acrowd. And how fierce they are! They tear off each other's legs. and arms and bodies, beforeand behind;

  and yet they are merry and joyful in their way. Now, there once was an old manwhom all the people called Kribble-Krabble, for that was his name. He always wanted the bestof everything, and when he could not manage it otherwise, he did it by magic. There he sat oneday, and held his magnifying-glass to his eye, and looked at a drop of water that had beentaken out of a puddle by the ditch.

  But what a kribbling and krabbling was there! All thethousands of little creatures hopped and sprang and tugged at one another, and ate each otherup. "That is horrible!" said old Kribble-Krabble. "Can one not persuade them to live in peaceand quietness, so that each one may mind his own business?" And he thought it over and over,but it would not do, and so he had recourse to magic. "I must give them color, that they maybe seen more plainly," said he; and he poured something like a little drop of red wine into thedrop of water, but it was witches' blood from the lobes of the ear, the finest kind, at ninepencea drop.

  And now the wonderful little creatures were pink all over. It looked like a whole town ofnaked wild men. "What have you there?" asked another old magician, who had no name- andthat was the best thing about him. "Yes, if you can guess what it is," said Kribble-Krabble, "I'llmake you a present of it." But it is not so easy to find out if one does not know. And themagician who had no name looked through the magnifying-glass. It looked really like a greattown reflected there, in which all the people were running about without clothes. It was terrible!But it was still more terrible to see how one beat and pushed the other, and bit and hacked,and tugged and mauled him.

  Those at the top were being pulled down, and those at the bottomwere struggling upwards. "Look! look! his leg is longer than mine! Bah! Away with it! There isone who has a little bruise. It hurts him, but it shall hurt him still more." And they hacked awayat him, and they pulled at him, and ate him up, because of the little bruise. And there was onesitting as still as any little maiden, and wishing only for peace and quietness. But now she hadto come out, and they tugged at her, and pulled her about, and ate her up. "That's funny!" saidthe magician. "Yes; but what do you think it is?" said Kribble-Krabble. "Can you find that out?" "Why, one can see that easily enough," said the other. "That's Paris, or some other great city,for they're all alike. It's a great city!" "It's a drop of puddle water!" said Kribble-Krabble.

  一滴水

  你当然知道什么叫做放大镜──它是一种圆玻璃,可以把一切东西放大到比原来的体积大一百倍。你只要把这镜子放在眼睛面前,瞧瞧一滴从池子里取出来的水,你就可以看见一千多种奇怪的生物──在别的情况下你是没有办法在水里看见的。不过它们的确存在着,一点也不虚假。这好像是一大盘龙虾,在你上我下地跳跃着。它们的样子非常凶猛,彼此撕着腿和臂、尾巴和身体;然而它们自己却感到愉快和高兴。

  从前有一个老头儿,大家把他叫做克里布勒·克拉布勒①,这就是他的名字。他总是希望在一切东西中抽出最好的东西来。当他没有办法达到目的时,他就要使用魔术了。

  有一天他坐下来拿着一个放大镜放在眼前,查看一滴从沟里取出来的水。嗨,那才是一副乱爬乱叫的景象呢!无数的小生物在跳跃着,互相撕扯,互相吞食。

  "这真吓人!"老克里布勒·克拉布勒说。"我们不能劝它们生活得和平和安静一点么?劝它们不要管别人的闲事么?"

  他想了又想,可是想不出办法。最后他只好使魔术了。

  "我得把它们染上颜色,好使它们显得清楚!"他说。

  于是他就在这滴水里倒进了一滴像红酒这类的东西。不过这就是巫婆的血──最上等的、每滴价值两个银毫的血。这样,那些奇异的小生物就全身染上了粉红色;水滴简直像住着一群裸体野人的城市一样。

  "这是一些什么东西?"另外一个魔法师问。这人没有名字──而他却正因为没有名字而驰名。

  "嗨,如果你能猜出它们是什么东西,"老克里布勒·克拉布勒说,"我就把它们送给你。不过,你不知道,要猜出来是不很容易的。"

  这个没有名字的魔法师朝放大镜里面望。这真像一个城市,那里面的人都在跑来跑去,没有穿衣服!多么可怕啊!不过更可怕的是看到这个人怎样打着和推着那个人,他们互相咬着,掐着,拉着和捶着。在下面的要爬上来,在上面的被拉到下面去。

  "看呀!看呀!他的腿比我的长!呸!滚他的!有一个人的耳朵后面长了一个小瘤──一个无害的小瘤,不过这使他感到痛,而它将来还会使他感到更痛!"

  于是大家拖着他,向这瘤砍来;而且正因为这个小瘤,大家就把这人吃掉了。另外还有一个人坐在那里一声不响,像一个小姑娘。她只希望和平和安静。不过大家不让这位小姑娘坐在那儿(家长学院:给您不一样的学习空间!)。他们把她抱出来,打她,最后就把她吃掉了。

  "这真是滑稽透顶!"魔法师说。

  "是的,你知道这是什么吗?"克里布勒·克拉布勒问。"你能看出来吗?"

  "这很容易就可以看得出来!"魔法师说。"这就是哥本哈根的缩影,或者某个别的大城市──因为它们都是一样的。这就是大城市!"

  "这不过是沟里的一滴水而已!"克里布勒·克拉布勒说。

英语童话故事翻译:DELAYING IS NOT FORGETTING

  THERE was an old mansion surrounded by a marshy ditch with a drawbridge which was butseldom let down:- not all guests are good people. Under the roof were loopholes to shootthrough, and to pour down boiling water or even molten lead on the enemy, should heapproach. Inside the house the rooms were very high and had ceilings of beams, and that wasvery useful considering the great deal of smoke which rose up from the chimney fire where thelarge, damp logs of wood smouldered. On the walls hung pictures of knights in armour andproud ladies in gorgeous dresses; the most stately of all walked about alive. She was calledMeta Mogen; she was the mistress of the house, to her belonged the castle. Towards theevening robbers came; they killed three of her people and also the yard-dog, and attached Mrs.Meta to the kennel by the chain, while they themselves made good cheer in the hall and drankthe wine and the good ale out of her cellar. Mrs.

  Meta was now on the chain, she could noteven bark. But lo! the servant of one of the robbers secretly approached her; they must not seeit, otherwise they would have killed him. "Mrs. Meta Mogen," said the fellow, "do you stillremember how my father, when your husband was still alive, had to ride on the wooden horse?You prayed for him, but it was no good, he was to ride until his limbs were paralysed; but youstole down to him, as I steal now to you, you yourself put little stones under each of his feetthat he might have support, nobody saw it, or they pretended not to see it, for you were thenthe young gracious mistress. My father has told me this, and I have not forgotten it! Now I willfree you, Mrs. Meta Mogen!"

  Then they pulled the horses out of the stable and rode off in rainand wind to obtain the assistance of friends. "Thus the small service done to the old man wasrichly rewarded!" said Meta Mogen. "Delaying is not forgetting," said the fellow. The robberswere hanged. There was an old mansion, it is still there; it did not belong to Mrs. Meta Mogen,it belonged to another old noble family. We are now in the present time. The sun is shining onthe gilt knob of the tower, little wooded islands lie like bouquets on the water, and wild swansare swimming round them. In the garden grow roses; the mistress of the house is herself thefinest rose petal, she beams with joy, the joy of good deeds: however, not done in the wideworld, but in her heart, and what is preserved there is not forgotten. Delaying is notforgetting!

  Now she goes from the mansion to a little peasant hut in the field. Therein lives apoor paralysed girl; the window of her little room looks northward, the sun does not enter here.The girl can only see a small piece of field which is surrounded by a high fence. But to-day thesun shines here- the warm, beautiful sun of God is within the little room; it comes from thesouth through the new window, where formerly the wall was. The paralysed girl sits in the warmsunshine and can see the wood and the lake; the world had become so large, so beautiful, andonly through a single word from the kind mistress of the mansion. "The word was so easy, thedeed so small," she said, "the joy it afforded me was infinitely great and sweet!"

  And thereforeshe does many a good deed, thinks of all in the humble cottages and in the rich mansions,where there are also afflicted ones. It is concealed and hidden, but God does not forget it.Delayed is not forgotten! An old house stood there; it was in the large town with its busy traffic.There are rooms and halls in it, but we do not enter them, we remain in the kitchen, where itis warm and light, clean and tidy; the copper utensils are shining, the table as if polished withbeeswax; the sink looks like a freshly scoured meatboard. All this a single servant has done,and yet she has time to spare as if she wished to go to church; she wears a bow on her cap, ablack bow, that signifies mourning. But she has no one to mourn, neither father nor mother,neither relations nor sweetheart. She is a poor girl. One day she was engaged to a poor fellow;they loved each other dearly.

  One day he came to her and said: "We both have nothing! Therich widow over the way in the basement has made advances to me; she will make me rich,but you are in my heart; what do you advise me to do?" "I advise you to do what you think willturn out to your happiness," said the girl. "Be kind and good to her, but remember this; fromthe hour we part we shall never see each other again." Years passed; then one day she met theold friend and sweetheart in the street;

  he looked ill and miserable, and she could not helpasking him, "How are you?" "Rich and prospering in every respect," he said; "the woman isbrave and good, but you are in my heart. I have fought the battle, it will soon be ended; weshall not see each other again now until we meet before God!" A week has passed; this morninghis death was in the newspaper, that is the reason of the girl's mourning! Her old sweetheart isdead and has left a wife and three step-children, as the paper says; it sounds as if there is acrack, but the metal is pure.

  The black bow signifies mourning, the girl's face points to thesame in a still higher degree; it is preserved in the heart and will never be forgotten. Delayingis not forgetting! These are three stories you see, three leaves on the same stalk. Do you wishfor some more trefoil leaves? In the little heartbook are many more of them. Delaying is notforgetting!

  隐存着并不就是被忘却

  有一座古老的庄园。庄园外面有一条泥泞的护庄沟,上面有一座吊桥。吊桥吊起的时候比放下的时候多,来访的人并不都是好人。屋檐下面有许多洞眼,可以朝外放枪。要是敌人靠得太近,还可以从这些洞里往外泼开水,是啊,甚至倒融化了的铅。屋里木顶很高,这对于因壁炉烧大块的湿木头而冒出的那些烟是很好的出路。墙上挂着身穿铠甲的男人和衣着臃肿、傲气十足的妇人的画像。这些女人中最高贵的一位现在还活着,住在这里,她的名字叫麦特·莫恩斯。她是这座庄园的主人。

  一天傍晚,强盗来了。他们杀死了她家的三口人,连看庄园的狗也被杀了。接着他们用拴狗的链子把麦特夫人拴在狗窝里,他们自己则坐在大厅里,喝着从她的地窖里搬来的葡萄酒和上等啤酒。

  麦特夫人被狗链子拴着,她连像狗那样吠也不行。接着强盗里的一个小孩子来了,他蹑手蹑脚一点声音都没有。他不能让人察觉,一被发觉他们便会杀死他。

  “麦特·莫恩斯夫人!”小男孩说道,“你记得你丈夫在世的时候,我的父亲被捆在木马①上吗?那时你为他求情,但是没有用;他必须骑在上面,骑成残废。但是你悄悄地走来,就像我现在悄悄地溜来一样;你亲手在他的脚下摆上了一小块石头,让他能够休息。没有人看见,或者他们装作没看见。你是那位年轻仁慈的夫人。我父亲对我说过,我把这事隐存着,但并不曾忘却!现在我来解救你,麦特·莫恩斯夫人!”接着他们从马厩牵来马,在风雨中骑马跑了,他们得到了人们友好的帮助。

  “我对那位老人做的一点善事却得到了这样好的回报!”麦特·莫恩斯夫人说道。

  “隐存不是被遗忘!”男孩说道。

  强盗后来被处以绞刑。

  有一座古老的庄园,它也还在那里。它不是麦特·莫恩斯夫人的。它属于另外一个高贵的家族。

  这是我们的时代。太阳照在金光闪闪的塔尖上,一座座郁郁葱葱的小岛像花环似地浮在水上,小岛的四周有野天鹅在游弋。园子里生长着玫瑰,庄园的女主人便是最美的玫瑰花;她在欢乐中,在善行的欢乐中闪闪发光,不是在广阔的世界里,而是在心中。它隐存在那里,但不等于被忘却。现在她从庄园走向田野里一所孤单的小房子。房里住着一个可怜的、瘫痪的女孩子。她房间里的窗是朝北面开的,阳光不能射进来,她只能看到被那条很高的沟堤隔断的一小片田野。但是今天屋子里有阳光了,上帝那温暖可爱的阳光射进来了。这阳光是从南墙上新开的窗子里射进来的。以前那边只是一道墙。

  瘫痪的姑娘坐在温暖的阳光里,看着树林和海滩。世界变得宽阔起来,十分可爱,这一切都是庄园里的那位夫人的一句话带来的。

  “讲一句话是轻而易举的,做的事是那么微不足道!”她说道。“我得到的快乐却无边无垠,十分幸福。”

  因为如此,她作了许多许多的善事,她心中装着贫寒家庭和有痛苦的富裕家庭的每一个人。善行隐存着,但是没有被上帝忘却。

  有一座古老的宅子,它在那座热闹的大城市里。宅子里有厅有堂。我们不进厅堂去,我们留在厨房里。那儿暖和、明亮,清洁而整齐;铜器都闪闪发光,桌子就像是打了蜡一样亮,洗碗盆就像是刚刨光的砧板。这都是一个女佣收拾的,她甚至还有时间将自己打扮整齐,就像要去教堂一般。她的帽子上打了一个蝴蝶结——一个黑色的结子,这是表示哀悼的。可是并没有要她照顾的人,她没有父亲也没有母亲,没有亲戚也没有恋人。她是一个贫苦的女孩子。她曾经订过婚,是和一个贫苦的男佣;他们真诚地相爱着。有一天他来找她。“我们两人什么东西都没有!”他说道。“那边那个住在地下室的有钱的寡妇对我说了许多热情的话,她将让我富裕起来。但是只有你在我的心中。你说我该怎么办?”

  “你所相信的,便是你的幸福!”姑娘说道。“和善地、亲切地对待她。可是请记住,从我们分手的那一刻起,我们就不能常见面了。

  ——两年过去了。一天她在街上遇见了昔日的朋友和恋人,他看上去一副可怜的病态。于是她不得不管,必须问一句:“你到底怎么了?”

  “怎么说都算得上很富裕很好!”他说道。“那妇人很能干很善良,但你在我的心中。我斗争得很厉害,一切很快便会结束!我们去上帝那儿之前,再也见不到了。”

  过了一个星期。晨报上说他去世了。所以姑娘便戴上了表示哀悼的结子。她从报纸上读到,他死后留下了那位妻子和前夫的三个孩子。钟声浑浊不清,可是铸钟的铜是很纯净的。

  她的黑蝴蝶结表示哀悼。姑娘的脸显得更加哀伤。“它隐存在心中,永不被忘却!”

  是啊,瞧,这里有三个故事,一根秆上的三片花瓣。你还希望有更多的花瓣吗?心的书里有许多;它们被隐藏起来,并不是被遗忘。

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