安徒生童话-THE STORY OF A MOTHER
安德森 mother译文
安德森mother译文全文共四篇示例，供读者参考第一篇示例：安德森（Hans Christian Andersen，1805-1875）是一位丹麦的童话作家，被称为“童话之父”。
他创作了许多经典的童话故事，例如《卑尔根市长的女儿》、《卖火柴的小女孩》、《皇帝的新衣》等，这些故事被译成多种语言，在世界各地广为传播。
其中最为著名的莫过于《安德森mother》（The Story of a Mother），这个故事描绘了一个母亲为了拯救自己的孩子，不惜一切牺牲的故事。
这篇文章将对《安德森mother》的译文进行介绍和分析。
《安德森mother》讲述了一个母亲的心路历程。
故事开始，母亲的儿子生病了，病得很重，濒临死亡。
母亲为了救自己的孩子，不顾一切地寻找治疗的方法，但最终仍未能救回孩子的生命。
在孩子死后，母亲为了看望孩子，冒着巨大的危险进入墓地，与死者进行对话。
在对话中，母亲用自己的身体为孩子盖被褥，用自己的心为孩子取暖，直至被活埋在墓地中。
这个故事以母爱为主题，通过一个母亲为了拯救孩子而牺牲自己的形象，表现出母爱的无私、伟大和崇高。
母亲不计代价地为孩子奉献，最终以自己的生命换取了孩子的生命，这种母爱被赞颂为至高无上的。
安德森通过这个故事揭示了母子之间的深厚情感，展现了母爱的神圣和伟大，体现了母爱的无私和奉献。
《安德森mother》一文被翻译成多种语言，在不同的文化背景下，产生了不同的译文。
中文版的译文往往是受到传统文化的影响，运用了大量的修辞手法和象征性语言，以呈现出情感的深邃和文字的美感。
下面将对《安德森mother》的中文译文进行分析。
《安德森mother》的中文译文以《母亲的故事》为主题，将母亲的形象表现得更加婉约和动人。
译文中充满了激情和情感，通过对母亲的描写，展现了母亲的爱和母亲的牺牲。
与原文相比，中文译文表达得更加细腻和动人，更能引起读者的共鸣和感动。
在翻译过程中，译者对原文进行了适当的加工和调整，使译文更贴近中国文化的情感和审美取向。
安徒生童话里母亲与死神这个故事的读后感
安徒生童话里母亲与死神这个故事的读后感英文版In Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales, there is a story about a mother and Death. This particular tale has always intrigued me, as it delves into themes of love, loss, and the inevitability of death. The story follows a mother who is visited by Death, and in a desperate attempt to save her sick child, she begs Death to spare him. Death agrees, but only if the mother can find a special herb that can cure her child. The mother embarks on a journey to find the herb, but in the end, she is unable to save her child.This story resonates with me on a deep level because it explores the lengths a mother will go to in order to protect her child. The mother's unwavering love and determination to save her child are admirable, but ultimately futile in the face of Death's power. It serves as a reminder of the fragility of life and the inevitability of death, no matter how hard we try to fight against it.The character of Death in this story is also intriguing, as it is portrayed as a compassionate and understanding figure. Death shows mercy towards the mother and her child, giving them a chance to fight for their lives. It challenges the traditional view of Death as a cold and merciless force, and instead presents it as a necessary part of the cycle of life.Overall, the story of the mother and Death in Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales is a poignant reminder of the power of love, the inevitability of death, and the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity.中文翻译在汉斯·克里斯蒂安·安徒生的童话故事中，有一个关于母亲和死神的故事。
安徒生童话-拇指姑娘（中英对照版）
安徒生童话-拇指姑娘HERE was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child, but she could not obtain her wish. At last she went to a fairy, and said, “I should so very much like to have a little child; can you tell me where I can find one?”“Oh, that can be easily managed,” said the fairy. “Here is a barleycorn of a different kind to those which grow in the farmer‟s fields, and which the chickens eat; put it into a flower-pot, and see what will happen.”“Thank you,” said the woman, and she gave the fai ry twelve shillings, which was the price of the barleycorn. Then she went home and planted it, and immediately there grew up a large handsome flower, something like a tulip in appearance, but with its leaves tightly closed as if it were still a bud. “It is a beautiful flower,” said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden-colored leaves, and while she did so the flower opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip. Within the flower, upon the green velvet stamens, sat a very delicate and graceful little maiden. She was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and they gave her the name of “Thumbelina,” or Tiny, because she was so small. A walnut-shell, elegantly polished, served her for a cradle; her bed was formed of blue violet-leaves, with a rose-leaf for a counterpane. Here she slept at night, but during the day she amused herself on a table, where the woman had placed a plateful of water. Round this plate were wreaths of flowers with their stems in the water, and upon it floated a large tulip-leaf, which served Tiny for a boat. Here the little maiden sat and rowed herself from side to side, with two oars made of white horse-hair. It really was a very pretty sight. Tiny could, also, sing so softly and sweetly that nothing like her singing had ever before been heard. One night, while she lay in her pretty bed, a large, ugly, wet toad crept through a broken pane of glass in the window, and leaped right upon the table where Tiny lay sleeping under her rose-leaf quilt. “What a pretty little wife this would make for my son,” said the toad, and she took up the walnut-shell in which little Tiny lay asleep, and jumped through the window with it into the garden.In the swampy margin of a broad stream in the garden lived the toad, with her son. He was uglier even than his mother, and when he saw the pretty little maiden in her elegant bed, he could only cry, “Croak, croak, croak.”“Don‟t speak so loud, or she will wake,” said the toad, “and then she might run away, for she is as light as swan‟s down. We will place her on one of the water-lily leaves out in the stream; it will be like an island to her, she is so light and small, and then she cannot escape; and, while she is away, we will make haste and prepare the state-room under the marsh, in which you are to live when you are married.”Far out in the stream grew a number of water-lilies, with broad green leaves, which seemed to float on the top of the water. The largest of these leaves appeared farther off than the rest, and the old toad swam out to it with the walnut-shell, in which little Tiny lay still asleep. The tiny little creature woke very early in the morning, and began to cry bitterly when she found where she was, for she could see nothing but water on every side of the large green leaf, and no way of reaching the land. Meanwhile the old toad was very busy under the marsh, decking her room with rushes and wild yellow flowers, to make it look pretty for her new daughter-in-law. Then she swam out with her ugly son to the leaf on which she had placed poor little Tiny. She wanted to fetch the pretty bed, that she might put it in the bridal chamber to be ready for her. The old toad bowed low to her in the water, and said, “Here is my son, he will be your husband, and you will live happily in the marsh by the str eam.”“Croak, croak, croak,” was all her son could say for himself; so the toad took up the elegant little bed, and swam away with it, leaving Tiny all alone on the green leaf, where she sat and wept. She could not bear to think of living with the old toad, and having her ugly son for a husband. The little fishes, who swam about in the water beneath, had seen the toad, and heard what she said, so they lifted their heads above the water to look at the little maiden. As soon as they caught sight of her, they saw she was very pretty, and it made them very sorry to think that she must go and live with the ugly toads. “No, it must never be!” so they assembled together in the water, round the green stalk which held theleaf on which the little maiden stood, and gnawed it away at the root with their teeth. Then the leaf floated down the stream, carrying Tiny far away out of reach of land.Tiny sailed past many towns, and the little birds in the bushes saw her, and sang, “What a lovely little creature;” so the lea f swam away with her farther and farther, till it brought her to other lands. A graceful little white butterfly constantly fluttered round her, and at last alighted on the leaf. Tiny pleased him, and she was glad of it, for now the toad could not possibly reach her, and the country through which she sailed was beautiful, and the sun shone upon the water, till it glittered like liquid gold. She took off her girdle and tied one end of it round the butterfly, and the other end of the ribbon she fastened to the leaf, which now glided on much faster than ever, taking little Tiny with it as she stood. Presently a large cockchafer flew by; the moment he caught sight of her, he seized her round her delicate waist with his claws, and flew with her into a tree. The green leaf floated away on the brook, and the butterfly flew with it, for he was fastened to it, and could not get away.Oh, how frightened little Tiny felt when the cockchafer flew with her to the tree! But especially was she sorry for the beautiful white butterfly which she had fastened to the leaf, for if he could not free himself he would die of hunger. But the cockchafer did not trouble himself at all about the matter. He seated himself by her side on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers to eat, and told her she was very pretty, though not in the least like a cockchafer. After a time, all the cockchafers turned up their feelers, and said, “She has only two legs! how ugly that looks.” “She has no feelers,” said another. “Her waist is q uite slim. Pooh! she is like a human being.”“Oh! she is ugly,” said all the lady cockchafers, although Tiny was very pretty. Then the cockchafer who had run away with her, believed all the others when they said she was ugly, and would have nothing more to say to her, and told her she might go where she liked. Then he flew down with her from the tree, and placed her on a daisy, and she wept at the thought that she was so ugly that even the cockchafers would have nothing to say to her. And all the while she was really the loveliest creature that one could imagine, and as tender and delicate as a beautiful rose-leaf. During the whole summer poor little Tinylived quite alone in the wide forest. She wove herself a bed with blades of grass, and hung it up under a broad leaf, to protect herself from the rain. She sucked the honey from the flowers for food, and drank the dew from their leaves every morning. So passed away the summer and the autumn, and then came the winter,— the long, cold winter. All the birds who had sung to her so sweetly were flown away, and the trees and the flowers had withered. The large clover leaf under the shelter of which she had lived, was now rolled together and shrivelled up, nothing remained but a yellow withered stalk. She felt dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn, and she was herself so frail and delicate, that poor little Tiny was nearly frozen to death. It began to snow too; and the snow-flakes, as they fell upon her, were like a whole shovelful falling upon one of us, for we are tall, but she was only an inch high. Then she wrapped herself up in a dry leaf, but it cracked in the middle and could not keep her warm, and she shivered with cold. Near the wood in which she had been living lay a corn-field, but the corn had been cut a long time; nothing remained but the bare dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground. It was to her like struggling through a large wood. Oh! how she shivered with the cold. She came at last to the door of a field-mouse, who had a little den under the corn-stubble. There dwelt the field-mouse in warmth and comfort, with a whole roomful of corn, a kitchen, and a beautiful dining room. Poor little Tiny stood before the door just like a little beggar-girl, and begged for a small piece of barley-corn, for she had been without a morsel to eat for two days.“You poor little creature,” said the field-mouse, who was really a good old field-mouse, “come into my warm room and dine with me.” She was very pleased with Tiny, so she said, “You are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter, if you like; but you must keep my rooms clean and neat, and tell me stories, for I shall like to hear them very much.” And Tiny did all the field-mouse asked her, and found herself very comfortable.“We shall have a visitor soon,” said the field-mouse one day; “my neighbor pays me a visit once a week. He is better off than I am; he has large rooms, and wears a beautiful blackvelvet coat. If you could only have him for a husband, you would be well provided for indeed. But h e is blind, so you must tell him some of your prettiest stories.”But Tiny did not feel at all interested about this neighbor, for he was a mole. However, he came and paid his visit dressed in his black velvet coat.“He is very rich and learned, and his house is twenty times larger than mine,” said the field-mouse.He was rich and learned, no doubt, but he always spoke slightingly of the sun and the pretty flowers, because he had never seen them. Tiny was obliged to sing to him, “Lady-bird, lady-bird, fl y away home,” and many other pretty songs. And the mole fell in love with her because she had such a sweet voice; but he said nothing yet, for he was very cautious. A short time before, the mole had dug a long passage under the earth, which led from the dwelling of the field-mouse to his own, and here she had permission to walk with Tiny whenever she liked. But he warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird which lay in the passage. It was a perfect bird, with a beak and feathers, and could not have been dead long, and was lying just where the mole had made his passage. The mole took a piece of phosphorescent wood in his mouth, and it glittered like fire in the dark; then he went before them to light them through the long, dark passage. When th ey came to the spot where lay the dead bird, the mole pushed his broad nose through the ceiling, the earth gave way, so that there was a large hole, and the daylight shone into the passage. In the middle of the floor lay a dead swallow, his beautiful wings pulled close to his sides, his feet and his head drawn up under his feathers; the poor bird had evidently died of the cold. It made little Tiny very sad to see it, she did so love the little birds; all the summer they had sung and twittered for her so beautifully. But the mole pushed it aside with his crooked legs, and said, “He will sing no more now. How miserable it must be to be born a little bird! I am thankful that none of my children will ever be birds, for they can do nothing but cry, …Tweet, tweet,‟ and always die of hunger in the winter.”“Yes, you may well say that, as a clever man!” exclaimed the field-mouse, “What is the use of his twittering, for when winter comes he must either starve or be frozen to death. Still birds are very high bred.”Tiny said nothing; but when the two others had turned their backs on the bird, she stooped down and stroked aside the soft feathers which covered the head, and kissed the closed eyelids. “Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer,” sh e said; “and how much pleasure it gave me, you dear, pretty bird.”The mole now stopped up the hole through which the daylight shone, and then accompanied the lady home. But during the night Tiny could not sleep; so she got out of bed and wove a large, beautiful carpet of hay; then she carried it to the dead bird, and spread it over him; with some down from the flowers which she had found in the field-mouse‟s room. It was as soft as wool, and she spread some of it on each side of the bird, so that he might lie warmly in the cold earth. “Farewell, you pretty little bird,” said she, “farewell; thank you for your delightful singing during the summer, when all the trees were green, and the warm sun shone upon us.” Then she laid her head on the bird‟s breast, bu t she was alarmed immediately, for it seemed as if something inside the bird went “thump, thump.” It was the bird‟s heart; he was not really dead, only benumbed with the cold, and the warmth had restored him to life. In autumn, all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if one happens to linger, the cold seizes it, it becomes frozen, and falls down as if dead; it remains where it fell, and the cold snow covers it. Tiny trembled very much; she was quite frightened, for the bird was large, a great deal larger than herself,—she was only an inch high. But she took courage, laid the wool more thickly over the poor swallow, and then took a leaf which she had used for her own counterpane, and laid it over the head of the poor bird. The next morning she again stole out to see him. He was alive but very weak; he could only open his eyes for a moment to look at Tiny, who stood by holding a piece of decayed wood in her hand, for she had no other lantern. “Thank you, pretty little maiden,” said the sick swallow; “I have been so nicely warmed, that I shall soon regain my strength, and be able to fly about again in the warm sunshine.”“Oh,” said she, “it is cold out of doors now; it snows and freezes. Stay in your warm bed; I will take care of you.”Then she brought the swallow some water in a flower-leaf, and after he had drank, he told her that he had wounded one of his wings in a thorn-bush, and could not fly as fast as the others, who were soon far away on their journey to warm countries. Then at last he had fallen to the earth, and could remember no more, nor how he came to be where she had found him. The whole winter the swallow remained underground, and Tiny nursed him with care and love. Neither the mole nor the field-mouse knew anything about it, for they did not like swallows. Very soon the spring time came, and the sun warmed the earth. Then the swallow bade farewell to Tiny, and she opened the hole in the ceiling which the mole had made. The sun shone in upon them so beautifully, that the swallow asked he r if she would go with him; she could sit on his back, he said, and he would fly away with her into the green woods. But Tiny knew it would make the field-mouse very grieved if she left her in that manner, so she said, “No, I cannot.”“Farewell, then, farewell, you good, pretty little maiden,” said the swallow; and he flew out into the sunshine.Tiny looked after him, and the tears rose in her eyes. She was very fond of the poor swallow.“Tweet, tweet,” sang the bird, as he flew out into the green woods, and Tiny felt very sad. She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine. The corn which had been sown in the field over the house of the field-mouse had grown up high into the air, and formed a thick wood to Tiny, who was only an inch in height.“You are going to be married, Tiny,” said the field-mouse. “My neighbor has asked for you. What good fortune for a poor child like you. Now we will prepare your wedding clothes. They must be both woollen and linen. Nothing must be wanting when you are the mole‟s wife.”Tiny had to turn the spindle, and the field-mouse hired four spiders, who were to weave day and night. Every evening the mole visited her, and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would be over. Then he would keep his wedding-day with Tiny; but now the heat of the sun was so great that it burned the earth, and made it quite hard, like a stone. As soon, as the summer was over, the wedding should take place. But Tiny was not at all pleased; for she did not like the tiresome mole. Every morning when the sun rose, and every evening when it went down, she would creep out at the door, and as the wind blew aside the ears of corn, so that she could see the blue sky, she thought how beautiful and bright it seemed out there, and wished so much to see her dear swallow again. But he never returned; for by this time he had flown far away into the lovely green forest.When autumn arrived, Tiny had her outfit quite ready; and the field-mouse said to her, “In four weeks the wedding must take place.”Then Tiny wept, and said she would not marry the disagreeable mole.“Nonsense,” replied the field-mouse. “Now don‟t be obstinate, or I shall bite you with my white teeth. He is a very handsome mole; the queen herself does not wear more beautiful velvets and furs. His kitchen and cellars are quite full. You ought to be very thankful for such good fortune.”So the wedding-day was fixed, on which the mole was to fetch Tiny away to live with him, deep under the earth, and never again to see the warm sun, because he did not like it. The poor child was very unhappy at the thought of saying farewell to the beautiful sun, and as the field-mouse had given her permission to stand at the door, she went to look at it once more.“Farewell bright sun,” she cried, s tretching out her arm towards it; and then she walked a short distance from the house; for the corn had been cut, and only the dry stubble remained in the fields. “Farewell, farewell,” she repeated, twining her arm round a little red flower that grew just by her side. “Greet the little swallow from me, if you should see him again.”“Tweet, tweet,” sounded over her head suddenly. She looked up, and there was the swallow himself flying close by. As soon as he spied Tiny, he was delighted; and then she told him how unwilling she felt to marry the ugly mole, and to live always beneath the earth, and never to see the bright sun any more. And as she told him she wept.“Cold winter is coming,” said the swallow, “and I am going to fly away into warmer countries. Will you go with me? You can sit on my back, and fasten yourself on with your sash. Then we can fly away from the ugly mole and his gloomy rooms,—far away, over the mountains, into warmer countries, where the sun shines more brightly—than here; where it is always summer, and the flowers bloom in greater beauty. Fly now with me, dear little Tiny; you saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark passage.”“Yes, I will go with you,” said Tiny; and she seated herself on the bird‟s back, with her feet on his outstretched wings, and tied her girdle to one of his strongest feathers.Then the swallow rose in the air, and flew over forest and over sea, high above the highest mountains, covered with eternal snow. Tiny would have been frozen in the cold air, but she c rept under the bird‟s warm feathers, keeping her little head uncovered, so that she might admire the beautiful lands over which they passed. At length they reached the warm countries, where the sun shines brightly, and the sky seems so much higher above th e earth. Here, on the hedges, and by the wayside, grew purple, green, and white grapes; lemons and oranges hung from trees in the woods; and the air was fragrant with myrtles and orange blossoms. Beautiful children ran along the country lanes, playing with large gay butterflies; and as the swallow flew farther and farther, every place appeared still more lovely.At last they came to a blue lake, and by the side of it, shaded by trees of the deepest green, stood a palace of dazzling white marble, built in the olden times. Vines clustered round its lofty pillars, and at the top were many swallows‟ nests, and one of these was the home of the swallow who carried Tiny.“This is my house,” said the swallow; “but it would not do for you to live there—you would not be comfortable. You must choose for yourself one of those lovely flowers, and I will put you down upon it, and then you shall have everything that you can wish to make you happy.”“That will be delightful,” she said, and clapped her little hands for joy.A large marble pillar lay on the ground, which, in falling, had been broken into three pieces. Between these pieces grew the most beautiful large white flowers; so the swallow flew down with Tiny, and placed her on one of the broad leaves. But how surpr ised she was to see in the middle of the flower, a tiny little man, as white and transparent as if he had been made of crystal! He had a gold crown on his head, and delicate wings at his shoulders, and was not much larger than Tiny herself. He was the angel of the flower; for a tiny man and a tiny woman dwell in every flower; and this was the king of them all.“Oh, how beautiful he is!” whispered Tiny to the swallow.The little prince was at first quite frightened at the bird, who was like a giant, compa red to such a delicate little creature as himself; but when he saw Tiny, he was delighted, and thought her the prettiest little maiden he had ever seen. He took the gold crown from his head, and placed it on hers, and asked her name, and if she would be his wife, and queen over all the flowers.This certainly was a very different sort of husband to the son of a toad, or the mole, with my black velvet and fur; so she said, “Yes,” to the handsome prince. Then all the flowers opened, and out of each came a little lady or a tiny lord, all so pretty it was quite a pleasure to look at them. Each of them brought Tiny a present; but the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings, which had belonged to a large white fly and they fastened them to Tiny‟s shoulders, so th at she might fly from flower to flower. Then there was much rejoicing, and the little swallow who sat above them, in his nest, was asked to sing a wedding song, which he did as well as he could; but in his heart he felt sad for he was very fond of Tiny, and would have liked never to part from her again.“You must not be called Tiny any more,” said the spirit of the flowers to her. “It is an ugly name, and you are so very pretty. We will call you Maia.”“Farewell, farewell,” said the swallow, with a heavy heart as he left the warm countries to fly back into Denmark. There he had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer of fairy tales. The swallow sang, “Tweet, tweet,” and from his song came the whole story.翻文：从前有一个女人，她非常希望有一个丁点儿小的孩子。
小学英语安徒生童话系列一母亲的故事阅读素材2
母亲的故事A mother sat there with her little child. She was sodowncast，s o afraid that it should die！It was sopale，the small eyes had c losed themselves，and itdrew its breath so softly，now and then，with adeep respiration，as if it sighed；and the motherlooked still more sorrowfully on the little creature.then a knocking was heard at the door，and in camea poor old man wrapped up as in a large horse-cloth，for it warms one，and he needed it，as itwas the cold winter season！Everything out-ofdoo rs was covered with ice and snow，and the wind blew so that it c ut the face.As the old man trembled with cold，and the little child slept a moment，the mother went andpoured some ale into a pot and set i t on the stove，that it might be warm for him；the oldman sat a nd rocked the cradle，and the mother sat down on a chair close by him，and lookedat 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 man——it was Death himself——he nodded so strangely ，it could just as wellsignify yes as no. And the mother looked d own in her lap，and the tears ran down over hercheeks；her head became so heavy——she had not closed her eyes for three days and n ights；and now she slept，but only for a minute，when she started up an d trembled with cold."What is that？" said she，and looked on all sides；but the old man was gone，and her littlechild was gone——he had taken it with him；and theold clock in the corner burred，andburred，the GREat leaden weigh t ran down to the floor，bump！and then the clock alsostood still.But the poor mother ran out of the house and cried aloud for h er child.Out there，in the midst of the snow，there sat a woman in lo ng，black clothes；and shesaid，"Death has been in thy chamber，and I saw him hasten away with th y little child；hegoes faster than the wind，and he never brings back what he takes！""Oh，only tell me which way he went！" said the mother. "Tell me the way，and I shall findhim！""I know it！" said the woman in the black clothes. "But before I tell it，thou must first sing forme all the songs t hou hast sung for thy child！I am fond of them. I have heard the m before；Iam Night；I saw thy tears whilst thou sang'st them！""I will sing them all，all！" said the mother. "But do not stop me now——I may overtake him——I may find my chil d！"But Night stood still and mute. then the mother wrung her hands ，sang and wept，and therewere many songs，but yet many more tea rs；and then Night said，"Go to the right，into thedark pine forest；thither I saw Death t ake his way with thy little child！"the roads crossed each other in the depths of the forest，and she no longer knew whither sheshould go！then there stood a thorn-b ush；there was neither leaf nor flower on it，it wasalso in the cold winter season，and ice-flakes hung on the branches."Hast thou not seen Death go past with my little child？" said the mother."Yes，" said the thorn-bush；"but I will not tell thee which way he took，unless thou wilt fir stwarm me up at thy heart. I am freezing to death；I shall become a lump of ice！"And she pressed the thorn-bush to her breast，so firmly，that it might be thoroughlywarmed，and the thorns went right into her fl esh，and her blood flowed in large drops，butthe thornbush shot fo rth fresh GREen leaves，and there came flowers on it in the cold winternight，the heart of the afflicted mother was so warm；and th e thorn-bush told her the wayshe should go.She then came to a large lake，where there was neither ship no r boat. The lake was not frozensufficiently to bear her；neither wa s it open，nor low enough that she could wade through it；and across it she must go if she would find her child！Then she lay down to drink up the lake，and that was an impossibility for a human being，but the afflicted mother thought that amiracle might happen nevertheless."Oh，what would I not give to come to my child！" said the weeping mother；and she weptstill more，and her eyes s unk down in the depths of the waters，and became two preciouspearls ；but the water bore her up，as if she sat in a swing，and sh e flew in the rockingwaves to the shore on the opposite side，wher e there stood a mile-broad，strange house，one knew not if it were a mountain with forests and caverns，or i f it were built up；but thepoor mother could not see it；she had wept her eyes out."Where shall I find Death，who took away my little child？" said she."He has not come here yet！" said the old grave woman，who was appointed to look afterDeath'sGREat greenhouse！"How have you been able to find the way hither？And who hashelped you？""OUR LORD has helped me，" said she. "He is merciful，and you will also be so！Where shall Ifind my l ittle child？""Nay，I know not，" said the woman，"and you cannot see！Many flowers and trees havewithered this night ；Death will soon come and plant them over again！You certainly k now thatevery person has his or her life's tree or flower，just as everyone happens to be settled；they look like other plants，but they have pulsations of the heart. Children's hearts can alsobeat；go after yours，perhaps you may k now your child's；but what will you give me if I tellyou what you shall do more？""I have nothing to give，" said the afflicted mother，"but I will go to the world's end for you！""Nay， I have nothing to do there！" said the woman. "But you can give me your long black hair； you know yourself that it is fine， and that I like！ You shall have my white hair instead， and that's always something！""Do you demand nothing else？" said she. "That I will gladly give you！" And she gave her her fine black hair， and got the old woman's snow-white hair instead.So they went into Death's GREat greenhouse， where flowers and trees grew strangely into one another. There stood fine hyacinths under glass bells， and there stood strong-stemmed peonies； there grew water plants， some so fresh， others half sick， the water-snakes lay down on them， and black crabs pinched their stalks. There stood beautiful palm-trees， oaks， and plantains； there stood parsley and flowering thyme： every tree and every flower had its name； each of them was a human life，the human frame still lived——one in China，and another in Greenland——round about in the world. There were large trees in small pots， sothat they stood so stunted in growth， and ready to burst the pots； in other places，there was a little dull flower in rich mould， with moss round about it， and it was so petted and nursed. But the distressed mother bent down over all the smallest plants， and heard within them how the human heart beat； and amongst millions she knew her child's."there it is！" cried she， and stretched her hands out over a little blue crocus，that hung quite sickly on one side."Don't touch the flower！" said the old woman. "But place yourself here， and when Death comes——I expect him every moment——do not let him pluck the flower up， but threaten him that you will do the same with the others. Then he will be afraid！ He is responsible for them to OUR LORD， and no one dares to pluck them up before HE gives leave."All at once an icy cold rushed through the GREat hall， and the blind mother could feel that it was Death that came."How hast thou been able to find thy way hither？" he asked. "How couldst thou come quicker than I？""I am a mother，" said she.And Death stretched out his long hand towards the fine little flower， but she held her hands fast around his， so tight， and yet afraid that she should touch one of the leaves. Then Death blew on her hands， and she felt that it was colder than the cold wind， and her hands fell down powerless."Thou canst not do anything against me！" said Death."But OUR LORD can！" said she."I only do His bidding！" said Death. "I am His gardener， I take all His flowers and trees， and plant them out in the GREat garden of Paradise， in the unknown land；but how they grow there， and how it is there I dare not tell thee.""Give me back my child！" said the mother， and she wept and prayed. At once she seized hold of two beautiful flowers close by， with each hand， and cried out to Death， "I will tear all thy flowers off， for I am in despair.""Touch them not！" said Death. "Thou say'st that thou art so unhappy， and now thou wilt make another mother equally unhappy.""Another mother！" said the poor woman， and directly let go her hold of both the flowers."there， thou hast thine eyes，" said Death； "I fished them up from the lake，they shone so bright； I knew not they were thine. Take them again， they are now brighter than before； now look down into the deep well close by； I shall tell thee the names of the two flowers thou wouldst have torn up， and thou wilt see their whole future life——their whole human existence： and see what thou wast about to disturb and destroy."And she looked down into the well； and it was a happiness to see how the one became a blessing to the world， to see how much happiness and joy were felt everywhere. And she saw the other's life， and it was sorrow and distress， horror， and wretchedness."Both of them are God's will！" said Death."Which of them is Misfortune's flower and which is that of Happiness？" asked she."That I will not tell thee，" said Death； "but this thou shalt know from me，that the one flower was thy own child！ it was thy child's fate thou saw'st——thy own child's future life！"then the mother screamed with terror， "Which of them was my child？ Tell it me！ Save the innocent！ Save my child from all that misery！ Rather take it away！Take it into God's kingdom！ Forget my tears， forget my prayers， and all that I have done！""I do not understand thee！" said Death. "Wilt thou have thy child again， or shall I go with it there， where thou dost not know！"then the mother wrung her hands， fell on her knees， and prayed to our Lord："Oh， hear me not when I pray against Thy will， which is the best！ hear me not！hear me not！"And she bowed her head down in her lap， and Death took her child and went with it into the unknown land.。
安徒生童话 英文版
安徒生童话英文版1.打火匣/ The Tinder-Box2.小克劳斯与大克劳斯/ Great Claus and Little Claus 113. 豌豆上的公主/ The Princess on the Pea 234. 小意达的花儿/ Little Ida誷 Flowers 255. 拇指姑娘/ Thumbelina 346. 顽皮的孩子/ The Naughty Boy 467. 旅伴/ The Travelling Companion 498. 海的女儿/ The Little Sea Maid 699. 皇帝的新装/ The Emperor誷 New Clothes 9110. 幸运的套鞋/ The Goloshes of Fortune 9711. 雏菊/ The Daisy 12312. 坚定的锡兵/ The Hardy Tin Soldier 12813. 野天鹅/ The Wild Swans 13314. 天国花园/ The Garden of Paradise 14915. 飞箱/ The Flying Trunk 16316. 鹳鸟/ The Storks 17017. 铜猪/ The Metal Pig 17618. 永恒的友情/ The Bond of Friendship 18819. 荷马墓上的一朵玫瑰/A Rose From the Grave of Homer 19720. 梦神/ Ole Luk-Oie 19921. 玫瑰花精/ The Rose-Elf 21222. 猪倌/ The Swineherd 21823. 荞麦/ The Buckwheat 22424. 安琪儿/ The Angel 22725. 夜莺/ The Nightingale 23126. 恋人/ The Lovers 24227. 丑小鸭/ The Ugly Duckling 24528. 枞树/ The Fir Tree 25529. 白雪皇后/ The Snow Queen 26530. 接骨木树妈妈/ The Elder Tree Mother 29531. 织补针/ The Darning-Needle 30332. 钟声/ The Bell 30733. 祖母/ Grandmother 31334. 妖山/ The Elf-Hill 31635. 红鞋/ The Red Shoes 32336. 跳高者/ The Jumper 33037. 牧羊女和扫烟囱的人/ The Shepherdess andthe Chimney- Sweeper 33338. 丹麦人荷尔格/ Holger the Dane 33939. 卖火柴的小女孩/ The Little Match Girl 34440. 城堡上的一幅画/ A Picture From the Fortress Wall 34741. 瓦尔都窗前的一瞥/ By the Almshouse Window 34942. 老路灯/ The Old Street Lamp 35243. 邻居们/ The Neighbouring Families 359 44. 小杜克/ Little Tuk 369 45. 影子/ The Shadow 37446. 老房子/ The Old House 38747. 一滴水/ The Drop of Water 39548. 幸福的家庭/ The Happy Family 39849. 母亲的故事/ The Story of a Mother 40250. 衬衫领子/ The Shirt Collar 40851. 亚麻/ The Flax 41252. 凤凰/ The Phoenix Bird 41753. 一个故事/ A Story 41954. 一本不说话的书/ The Dumb Book 42455. 区别/ 襎here Is a Difference 42756. 老墓碑/ The Old Gravestone 431中篇57. 世上最美丽的一朵玫瑰花/ The Loveliest Rose in the World 43758. 一年的故事/ The Story of the Year 44059. 最后的一天/ On the Last Day 449。
小学英语 英语故事(童话故事)The Story of a Mother 母亲的故事
The Story of a Mother 母亲的故事A mother sat by her little child. She was so sad, so afraid he would die. The child's face was pallid. His little eyes were shut. His breath came faintly now, and then heavily as if he were sighing, and the mother looked more sadly at the dear little soul.There came a knocking at the door, and a poor old man hobbled into the house. He was wrapped in a thick horseblanket. It kept him warm and he needed it to keep out the wintry cold, for outside the world was covered with snow and ice, and the wind cut like a knife.As the child was resting quietly for a moment, and the old man was shivering from the cold, the mother put a little mug of beer to warm on the stove for him. The old man rocked the cradle and the mother sat down near it to watch her sick child, who labored to draw each breath. She lifted his little hand, and asked:"You don't think I shall lose him, do you? Would the good Lord take him from me?" The old man was Death himself. He jerked his head strangely, in a way that might mean yes or might mean no. The mother bowed her head and tears ran down her cheeks. Her head was heavy.For three days and three nights she had not closed her eyes. Now she dozed off to sleep, but only a moment. Something startled her and she awoke, shuddering in the cold."What was that?" she said, looking everywhere about the room. But the old man had gone and her little child had gone. Death had taken the child away. The old clock in the corner whirred and whirred. Its heavy lead weight dropped down to the floor with a thud. Bong! the clock stopped. The poor mother rushed wildly out of the house, calling for her child.Out there in the snow sat a woman, dressed in long black garments. "Death," she said, "has been in your house. I just saw him hurrying away with your child in his arms. He goes faster than the wind. And he never brings back what he has taken away." "Tell me which way he went," said the mother. "Only tell me the way, and I will find him.""I know the way," said the woman in black, "but before I tell you, you must sing to me all those songs you used to sing to your child. I am night. I love lullabies and I hear them often. When you sang them I saw your tears.""I shall sing them again-you shall hear them all," said the mother, "but do not stop me now. I must catch him. I must hurry to find my child."Night kept silent and still, while the mother wrung her hands, and sang, and wept. She sang many songs, but the tears that she shed were many, many more. At last Night said to her, "Go to the right. Go into the dark pine woods. I saw Death go there with your child."Deep into the woods the mother came to a crossroad, where she was at a loss which way to go. At the crossroad grew a blackthorn bush, without leaf or flower, for it was wintertime and its branches were glazed with ice."Did you see Death go by with my little child?""Yes," said the blackthorn bush. "But I shall not tell you which way he went unless you warm me against your heart. I am freezing to death. I am stiff with ice." She pressed the blackthorn bush against her heart to warm it, and the thorns stabbed so deep into her flesh that great drops of red blood flowed. So warm was the mother's heart that the blackthorn bush blossomed and put forth green leaves on that dark winter's night. And it told her the way to go.Then she came to a large lake, where there was neither sailboat nor rowboat. The ice on the lake was too thin to hold her weight, and yet not open or shallow enough for her to wade. But across the lake she must go if ever she was to find her child. She stooped down to drink the lake dry, and that of course was impossible for any human being, but the poor woman thought that maybe a miracle would happen. "No, that would never do," the lake objected. "Let us make a bargain between us.I collect pearls, and your two eyes are the clearest I've ever seen. If you will cry them out for me, I shall carry you over to the great greenhouse where Death lives and tends his trees and flowers. Each one of them is a human life.""Oh, what would I not give for my child," said the crying mother, and she wept till her eyes dropped down to the bottom of the lake and became two precious pearls. The lake took her up as if in a swing, and swept her to the farther shore.Here stood the strangest house that ever was. It rambled for many a mile. One wouldn't know whether it was a cavernous, forested mountain, or whether it was made of wood. But the poor mother could not see this, for she had cried out her eyes. "Where shall I find Death, who took my child from me?" she cried."He has not come back yet," said the old woman who took care of the great greenhouse while Death was away. "How did you find your way here? Who helped you?""The Lord helped me," she said. "He is merciful, and so must you be. Where can I find my child?""I don't know him," said the old woman, "and you can't see to find him. But many flowers and trees have withered away in the night, and Death will be along soon to transplant them. Every human being, you know, has his tree or his flower of life, depending on what sort of person he is. These look like other plants, but they have a heart that beats. A child's heart beats too. You know the beat of your own child's heart. Listen and you may hear it. But what will you give me if I tell you what else you must do?""I have nothing left," the poor mother said, "but I will go to the ends of the earth for you.""I have nothing to do there," said the old woman, "but you can give me your long black hair. You know how beautiful it is, and I like it. I'll give you my white hair for it. White hair is better than none.""Is that all you ask?" said the mother. "I will gladly give it to you." And she gave her beautiful long black tresses in exchange for the old woman's white hair. Then they went into Death's great greenhouse, where flowers and trees were strangely intertwined. In one place delicate hyacinths were kept under glass bells, and around them great hardy peonies flourished. There were water plants too, some thriving where the stalks of others were choked by twisting water snakes, or gnawed away by blackcrayfish. Tall palm trees grew there, and plane trees, and oaks. There grew parsley and sweet-smelling thyme. Every tree or flower went by the name of one particular person, for each was the life of someone still living in China, in Greenland, or in some other part of the world. There were big trees stunted by the small pots which their roots filled to bursting, and elsewhere grew languid little flowers that came to nothing, for all the care that was lavished upon them, and for all the rich earth and the mossy carpet where they grew. The sad, blind mother bent over the tiniest plants and listened to the beat of their human hearts, and among so many millions she knew her own child's heartbeat."This is it," she cried, groping for a little blue crocus, which had wilted and dropped to one side."Don't touch that flower," the old woman said. "Stay here. Death will be along any minute now, and you may keep him from pulling it up. Threaten him that, if he does, you will pull up other plants. That will frighten him, for he has to account for them to the Lord. Not one may be uprooted until God says so."Suddenly an icy wind blew through the place, and the blind mother felt Death come near."How did you find your way here?" he asked her. "How did you ever get here before me?""I am a mother," she said.Then Death stretched out his long hand toward the wilted little flower, but she held her hands tightly around it, in terror lest he touch a single leaf. Death breathed upon her hands, and his breath was colder than the coldest wind. Her hands fell, powerless."You have no power to resist me," Death told her."But our Lord has," she said."I only do his will," said Death, "I am His gardener. I take His flowers and trees and plant them again in the great Paradise gardens, in the unknown land. But how they thrive, and of their life there, I dare not speak.""Give me back my child," the mother wept and implored him. Suddenly she grasped a beautiful flower in each hand and as she clutched them she called to Death: "I shall tear out your flowers by the roots, for I am desperate.""Do not touch them!" Death told her. "You say you are desperate, yet you would drive another mother to the same despair.""Another mother!" The blind woman's hands let go the flowers."Behold," said Death, "you have your eyes again. I saw them shining as I crossed the lake, and fished them up, but I did not know they were yours. They are clearer than before. Take them and look deep into this well. I shall tell you the names of the flowers you were about to uproot and you shall see the whole future of those human lives that you would have destroyed and disturbed."She looked into the well, and it made her glad to see how one life became a blessing to the world, for it was so kind and happy. Then she saw the other life, which held only sorrow, poverty, fear, and woe."Both are the will of God," said Death."Which one is condemned to misery, and which is the happy one?" she asked. "That I shall not tell you," Death said. "But I tell you this. One of the flowers belongs to your own child. One life that you saw was your child's fate, your own child's future."Then the mother shrieked in terror, "Which was my child? Tell me! Save my innocent child. Spare him such wretchedness. Better that he be taken from me. Take him to God's kingdom. Forget my tears. Forget the prayers I have said, and the things I have done.""I do not understand," Death said. "Will you take your own child back or shall I take him off to a land unknown to you?"Then the mother wrung her hands, fell on her knees, and prayed to God:"Do not hear me when I pray against your will. It is best. Do not listen, do not listen!" And she bowed her head, as Death took her child to the unknown land.。
THESTORYOFAMOTHER母亲的故事中英文对照
这个故事最先发表在《新的童话》里。
写的是母亲对自己的孩子的爱。
"啊，为了我的孩子，我什么都可以牺牲！"死神把母亲的孩子抢走了，但她追到天边也要找到他。
她终于找到了死神。
死神让她看了看孩子的"整个未来，整个的人间生活。
"有的是"愉快"和"幸福"，但有的则是"忧愁和贫困、苦难和悲哀的化身。
"仍然是为了爱，母亲最后只有放下自己的孩子，向死神祈求："请把我的孩子从苦难中救出来吧！还是请您把他带走吧！把他带到上帝的国度里去！"安徒生在他的手记中说："写《母亲的故事》时我没有任何特殊的动机。
我只是在街上行走的时候，有关它的思想，忽然在我的心里酝酿起来了。
"THE STORY OF A MOTHER 母亲的故事A mother sat there with her little child. She was so downcast, so afraid thatit should die! It was so pale, the small eyes had closed themselves, and itdrew its breath so softly, now and then, with a deep respiration, as if itsighed; 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 upas in a large horse-cloth, for it warms one, and he needed it, as it was thecold winter season! Everything out-of-doors was covered with ice and snow, andthe wind blew so that it cut the face.As the old man trembled with cold, and the little child slept a moment, themother went and poured some ale into a pot and set it on the stove, that itmight be warm for him; the old man sat and rocked the cradle, and the mothersat down on a chair close by him, and looked at her little sick child thatdrew its breath so deep, and raised its little hand."Do you not think that I shall save him?" said she. "Our Lord will not takehim from me!"And the old man--it was Death himself--he nodded so strangely, it could justas well signify yes as no. And the mother looked down in her lap, and thetears ran down over her cheeks; her head became so heavy--she had not closedher eyes for three days and nights; and now she slept, but only for a minute,when she started up and trembled with cold."What is that?" said she, and looked on all sides; but the old man was gone,and her little child was gone--he had taken it with him; and the old clock inthe corner burred, and burred, the great leaden weight ran down to the floor,bump! and then the clock also stood still.But the poor mother ran out of the house and cried aloud for her child.Out there, in the midst of the snow, there sat a woman in long, black clothes;and she said, "Death has been in thy chamber, and I saw him hasten away withthy little child; he goes faster than the wind, and he never brings back whathe takes!""Oh, only tell me which way he went!" said the mother. "Tell me the way, and Ishall find him!""I know it!" said the woman in the black clothes. "But before I tell it, thoumust first sing for me all the songs thou hast sung for thy child! I am fondof them. I have heard them before; I am Night; Isaw thy tears whilst thousang'st them!""I will sing them all, all!" said the mother. "But do not stop me now--I mayovertake him--I may find my child!"But Night stood still and mute. Then the mother wrung her hands, sang andwept, and there were many songs, but yet many more tears; and then Night said,"Go to the right, into the dark pine forest; thither I saw Death take his waywith thy little child!"The roads crossed each other in the depths of the forest, and she no longerknew whither she should go! then there stood a thorn-bush; there was neitherleaf nor flower on it, it was also in the cold winter season, and ice-flakeshung on the branches."Hast thou not seen Death go past with my little child?" said the mother."Yes," said the thorn-bush; "but I will not tell thee which way he took,unless thou wilt first warm me up at thy heart. I am freezing to death; Ishall become a lump of ice!"And she pressed the thorn-bush to her breast, so firmly, that it might bethoroughly warmed, and the thorns went right into her flesh, and her bloodflowed in large drops, but the thornbush shot forth fresh green leaves, andthere came flowers on it in the cold winter night, the heart of the afflictedmother was so warm; and the thorn-bush told her the way she should go.She then came to a large lake, where there was neither ship nor boat. The lakewas not frozen sufficiently to bear her; neither was it open, nor low enoughthat she could wade through it; and across it she must go if she would findher child! Then she lay down to drink up the lake, and that was animpossibility for a human being, but the afflicted mother thought that amiracle might happen nevertheless."Oh, what would I not give to come to my child!" said the weeping mother; andshe wept still more, and her eyes sunk down in the depths of the waters, andbecame two precious pearls; but the water bore her up, as if she sat in aswing, and she flew in the rocking waves to the shore on the opposite side,where there stood a mile-broad, strange house, one knew not if it were amountain with forests and caverns, or if it were built up; but the poor mothercould not see it; she had wept her eyes out."Where shall I find Death, who took away my little child?" said she."He has not come here yet!" said the old grave woman, who was appointed tolook after Death's great greenhouse! "How have you been able to find the wayhither? And who has helped you?""OUR LORD has helped me," said she. "He is merciful, and you will also be so!Where shall I find my little child?""Nay, I know not," said the woman, "and you cannot see! Many flowers and treeshave witheredthis night; Death will soon come and plant them over again!Y ou certainly know that every person has his or her life's tree or flower,just as everyone happens to be settled; they look like other plants, but theyhave pulsations of the heart. Children's hearts can also beat; go after yours,perhaps you may know your child's; but what will you give me if I tell youwhat you shall do more?""I have nothing to give," said the afflicted mother, "but I will go to theworld's end for you!""Nay, I have nothing to do there!" said the woman. "But you can give me yourlong black hair; you know yourself that it is fine, and that I like! Y ou shallhave my white hair instead, and that's always something!""Do you demand nothing else?" said she. "That I will gladly give you!" And shegave her her fine black hair, and got the old woman's snow-white hair instead.So they went into Death's great greenhouse, where flowers and trees grewstrangely into one another. There stood fine hyacinths under glass bells, andthere stood strong-stemmed peonies; there grew water plants, some so fresh,others half sick, the water-snakes lay down on them, and black crabs pinchedtheir stalks. There stood beautiful palm-trees, oaks, and plantains; therestood parsley and flowering thyme: every tree and every flower had its name;each of them was a human life, the human frame still lived--one in China, andanother in Greenland--round about in the world. There were large trees insmall pots, so that they stood so stunted in growth, and ready to burst thepots; in other places, there was a little dull flower in rich mould, with mossround about it, and it was so petted and nursed. But the distressed motherbent down over all the smallest plants, and heard within them how the humanheart beat; and amongst millions she knew her child's."There it is!" cried she, and stretched her hands out over a little bluecrocus, that hung quite sickly on one side."Don't touch the flower!" said the old woman. "But place yourself here, andwhen Death comes--I expect him every moment--do not let him pluck the flowerup, but threaten him that you will do the same with the others. Then he willbe afraid! He is responsible for them to OUR LORD, and no one dares to pluckthem up before HE gives leave."All at once an icy cold rushed through the great hall, and the blind mothercould feel that it was Death that came."How hast thou been able to find thy way hither?" he asked. "How couldst thoucome quicker than I?""I am a mother," said she.And Death stretched out his long hand towards the fine little flower, but sheheld her hands fast around his, so tight, and yet afraid that she should touchone of the leaves. Then Death blew on her hands, and she felt that it wascolder than the cold wind, and her hands fell down powerless."Thou canst not do anything against me!" said Death."But OUR LORD can!" said she."I only do His bidding!" said Death. "I am His gardener, I take all Hisflowers and trees, and plant them out in the great garden of Paradise, in theunknown land; but how they grow there, and how it is there I dare not tellthee.""Give me back my child!" said the mother, and she wept and prayed. At once sheseized hold of two beautiful flowers close by, with each hand, and cried outto Death, "I will tear all thy flowers off, for I am in despair.""Touch them not!" said Death. "Thou say'st that thou art so unhappy, and nowthou wilt make another mother equally unhappy.""Another mother!" said the poor woman, and directly let go her hold of boththe flowers."There, thou hast thine eyes," said Death; "I fished them up from the lake,they shone so bright; I knew not they were thine. Take them again, they arenow brighter than before; now look down into the deep well close by; I shalltell thee the names of the two flowers thou wouldst have torn up, and thouwilt see their whole future life--their whole human existence: and see whatthou wast about to disturb and destroy."And she looked down into the well; and it was a happiness to see how the onebecame a blessing to the world, to see how much happiness and joy were felteverywhere. And she saw the other's life, and it was sorrow and distress,horror, and wretchedness."Both of them are God's will!" said Death."Which of them is Misfortune's flower and which is that of Happiness?" askedshe."That I will not tell thee," said Death; "but this thou shalt know from me,that the one flower was thy own child! it was thy child's fate thousaw'st--thy own child's future life!"Then the mother screamed with terror, "Which of them was my child? Tell it me!Save the innocent! Save my child from all that misery! Rather take it away!Take it into God's kingdom! Forget my tears, forget my prayers, and all that Ihave done!""I do not understand thee!" said Death. "Wilt thou have thy child again, orshall I go with it there, where thou dost not know!"Then the mother wrung her hands, fell on her knees, and prayed to our Lord:"Oh, hear me not when I pray against Thy will, which is the best! hear me not!hear me not!"And she bowed her head down in her lap, and Death took her child and went withit into the unknown land.译文母亲的故事一个母亲坐在她孩子的身旁，非常焦虑，因为她害怕孩子会死去。
安徒生童话-母亲的故事简介及启示
一、安徒生童话-母亲的故事简介在安徒生的童话中，有一则动人的故事，那就是《母亲》。
故事讲述了一个年轻的企鹅妈妈被发现了一只被人们抛弃的孩子，她毅然收养了这只孩子并用自己的爱和关怀培养成一只健康快乐的企鹅。
然而，成长起来的孩子很快发现自己是一只企鹅，而他所忍受的严酷的人类世界并不欢迎他。
他选择回到了海洋，找到了自己的真正的家庭。
二、母亲的故事启示1. 母爱的伟大故事中的企鹅妈妈展现了母亲无私奉献的精神。
她舍弃了自己的自由和安逸，将所有的爱都给予了孤苦无助的孩子。
这种母爱的伟大和伟大不言而喻，启示我们要珍惜和感恩母亲的爱，以及要学会用心体会别人的付出。
2. 自我认知与自我接受成长过程中的孩子发现自己的真实身份后，他充满了痛苦和挣扎。
这告诉我们人们需要正确认识和接纳自己的身份，接纳自己的一切，包括自己的优点和缺点。
只有正确认识自己，才能找到真正属于自己的位置。
3. 家的真正定义故事中，孩子最终选择了回到海洋，找到了真正的家。
这启示我们家的定义不仅仅是一个生物血缘相关的地方，而是应该是一个充满爱和温暖的地方。
在家庭中，人们需要相互尊重和理解，用真诚的心去维系和经营家庭。
4. 学会接纳和包容对于孩子来说，人类世界的残酷和不认同是他痛苦的根源。
这启示我们要学会包容和接纳不同的个体，用宽容和理解去对待和处理他人。
5. 积极向上的人生态度在故事的结尾，孩子选择了回到大海，找到自己的家。
这表明了故事主人公拥有着积极向上的人生态度。
启示我们在面对困难和挑战时，要坚信自己，勇敢前行。
6. 珍惜当下母亲的伟大牺牲和孩子的成长故事，教导我们要珍惜眼前，珍惜和亲人的相处时光，珍惜人与人之间的交流与互动。
结语安徒生童话《母亲》所包含的故事启示，深刻触动着人们的内心世界。
母亲的伟大、自我认知与自我接受、家的真正定义、学会接纳和包容、积极向上的人生态度、珍惜当下等内容无不呼吁人们在成长的道路上要有正确的价值观、人生观和世界观。
在这样一个充满爱与温暖的环境中，每个人都能够茁壮成长，勇敢迈向自己的未来。
- 1、下载文档前请自行甄别文档内容的完整性，平台不提供额外的编辑、内容补充、找答案等附加服务。
- 2、"仅部分预览"的文档,不可在线预览部分如存在完整性等问题,可反馈申请退款(可完整预览的文档不适用该条件!)。
- 3、如文档侵犯您的权益，请联系客服反馈,我们会尽快为您处理(人工客服工作时间：9:00-18:30)。
1872FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE STORY OF A MOTHERby Hans Christian AndersenA MOTHER sat by her little child; she was very sad, for she fearedit would die. It was quite pale, and its little eyes were closed,and sometimes it drew a heavy deep breath, almost like a sigh; andthen the mother gazed more sadly than ever on the poor littlecreature. Some one knocked at the door, and a poor old man walkedin. He was wrapped in something that looked like a greathorse-cloth; and he required it truly to keep him warm, for it wascold winter; the country everywhere lay covered with snow and ice, andthe wind blew so sharply that it cut one's face. The little childhad dozed off to sleep for a moment, and the mother, seeing that theold man shivered with the cold, rose and placed a small mug of beer onthe stove to warm for him. The old man sat and rocked the cradle;and the mother seated herself on a chair near him, and looked at hersick child who still breathed heavily, and took hold of its littlehand."Y ou think I shall keep him, do you not?" she said. "Ourall-merciful God will surely not take him away from me."The old man, who was indeed Death himself, nodded his head in a peculiar manner, which might have signified either Y es, or No; and the mother cast down her eyes, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. Then her head became heavy, for she had not closed her eyes forthree days and nights, and she slept, but only for a moment. Shivering with cold, she started up and looked round the room. The old man was gone, and her child- it was gone too!- the old man had taken it with him. In the corner of the room the old clock began to strike; "whirr" went the chains, the heavy weight sank to the ground, andthe clock stopped; and the poor mother rushed out of the house calling for her child. Out in the snow sat a woman in long black garments, and she said to the mother, "Death has been with you in your room. I saw him hastening away with your little child; he strides faster thanthe wind, and never brings back what he has taken away.""Only tell me which way he has gone," said the mother; tell me the way, I will find him.""I know the way," said the woman in the black garments; "but before I tell you, you must sing to me all the songs that you havesung to your child; I love these songs, I have heard them before. I am Night, and I saw your tears flow as you sang.""I will sing them all to you," said the mother; "but do not detain me now. I must overtake him, and find my child."But Night sat silent and still. Then the mother wept and sang, and wrung her hands. And there were many songs, and yet even more tears; till at length Night said, "Go to the right, into the dark forest offir-trees; for I saw Death take that road with your little child."Within the wood the mother came to cross roads, and she knew not which to take. Just by stood a thorn-bush; it had neither leaf nor flower, for it was the cold winter time, and icicles hung on the branches. "Have you not seen Death go by, with my little child?" she asked."Y es," replied the thorn-bush; "but I will not tell you whichway he has taken until you have warmed me in your bosom. I am freezing to death here, and turning to ice."Then she pressed the bramble to her bosom quite close, so thatit might be thawed, and the thorns pierced her flesh, and greatdrops of blood flowed; but the bramble shot forth fresh greenleaves, and they became flowers on the cold winter's night, so warm is the heart of a sorrowing mother. Then the bramble-bush told her the path she must take. She came at length to a great lake, on which there was neither ship nor boat to be seen. The lake was not frozen sufficiently for her to pass over on the ice, nor was it open enoughfor her to wade through; and yet she must cross it, if she wished tofind her child. Then she laid herself down to drink up the water ofthe lake, which was of course impossible for any human being to do; but the bereaved mother thought that perhaps a miracle might take place to help her. "Y ou will never succeed in this," said the lake;let us make an agreement together which will be better. I love to collect pearls, and your eyes are the purest I have ever seen. Ifyou will weep those eyes away in tears into my waters, then I willtake you to the large hothouse where Death dwells and rears flowers and trees, every one of which is a human life.""Oh, what would I not give to reach my child!" said the weeping mother; and as she still continued to weep, her eyes fell into the depths of the lake, and became two costly pearls.Then the lake lifted her up, and wafted her across to the opposite shore as if she were on a swing, where stood a wonderful building many miles in length. No one could tell whether it was a mountain covered with forests and full of caves, or whether it had been built. Butthe poor mother could not see, for she had wept her eyes into the lake. "Where shall I find Death, who went away with my little child?" she asked."He has not arrived here yet," said an old gray-haired woman, who was walking about, and watering Death's hothouse. "How have you found your way here? and who helped you?""God has helped me," she replied. "He is merciful; will you not bemerciful too? Where shall I find my little child?""I did not know the child," said the old woman; "and you are blind. Many flowers and trees have faded to-night, and Death will soon come to transplant them. Y ou know already that every human being has a life-tree or a life-flower, just as may be ordained for him. They looklike other plants; but they have hearts that beat. Children's heartsalso beat: from that you may perhaps be able to recognize yourchild. But what will you give me, if I tell you what more you willhave to do?"I have nothing to give," said the afflicted mother; "but Iwould go to the ends of the earth for you.""I can give you nothing to do for me there," said the old woman; "but you can give me your long black hair. Y ou know yourself that itis beautiful, and it pleases me. Y ou can take my white hair in exchange, which will be something in return.""Do you ask nothing more than that?" said she. "I will give itto you with pleasure."And she gave up her beautiful hair, and received in return the white locks of the old woman. Then they went into Death's vast hothouse, where flowers and trees grew together in wonderful profusion. Blooming hyacinths, under glass bells, and peonies, like strong trees. There grew water-plants, some quite fresh, and otherslooking sickly, which had water-snakes twining round them, and black crabs clinging to their stems. There stood noble palm-trees, oaks, and plantains, and beneath them bloomed thyme and parsley. Each tree and flower had a name; each represented a human life, and belonged tomen still living, some in China, others in Greenland, and in all partsof the world. Some large trees had been planted in little pots, sothat they were cramped for room, and seemed about to burst the potto pieces; while many weak little flowers were growing in rich soil,with moss all around them, carefully tended and cared for. The sorrowing mother bent over the little plants, and heard the humanheart beating in each, and recognized the beatings of her child'sheart among millions of others."That is it," she cried, stretching out her hand towards alittle crocus-flower which hung down its sickly head."Do not touch the flower," exclaimed the old woman; "but place yourself here; and when Death comes- I expect him every minute- do not let him pull up that plant, but threaten him that if he does youwill serve the other flowers in the same manner. This will make him afraid; for he must account to God for each of them. None can be uprooted, unless he receives permission to do so."There rushed through the hothouse a chill of icy coldness, and the blind mother felt that Death had arrived."How did you find your way hither?" asked he; "how could you come here faster than I have?""I am a mother," she answered.And Death stretched out his hand towards the delicate little flower; but she held her hands tightly round it, and held it fast at same time, with the most anxious care, lest she should touch one of the leaves. Then Death breathed upon her hands, and she felt his breath colder than the icy wind, and her hands sank down powerless."Y ou cannot prevail against me," said Death."But a God of mercy can," said she."I only do His will," replied Death. "I am his gardener. I takeall His flowers and trees, and transplant them into the gardens of Paradise in an unknown land. How they flourish there, and what that garden resembles, I may not tell you.""Give me back my child," said the mother, weeping and imploring; and she seized two beautiful flowers in her hands, and cried to Death, "I will tear up all your flowers, for I am in despair.""Do not touch them," said Death. "Y ou say you are unhappy; and would you make another mother as unhappy as yourself?""Another mother!" cried the poor woman, setting the flowers free from her hands."There are your eyes," said Death. "I fished them up out of thelake for you. They were shining brightly; but I knew not they were yours. Take them back- they are clearer now than before- and then look into the deep well which is close by here. I will tell you the namesof the two flowers which you wished to pull up; and you will see the whole future of the human beings they represent, and what you were about to frustrate and destroy."Then she looked into the well; and it was a glorious sight tobehold how one of them became a blessing to the world, and how much happiness and joy it spread around. But she saw that the life of theother was full of care and poverty, misery and woe."Both are the will of God," said Death."Which is the unhappy flower, and which is the blessed one?" she said."That I may not tell you," said Death; "but thus far you maylearn, that one of the two flowers represents your own child. It wasthe fate of your child that you saw,- the future of your own child."Then the mother screamed aloud with terror, "Which of them belongs to my child? Tell me that. Deliver the unhappy child. Release itfrom so much misery. Rather take it away. Take it to the kingdom of God. Forget my tears and my entreaties; forget all that I have said or done.""I do not understand you," said Death. "Will you have your childback? or shall I carry him away to a place that you do not know?"Then the mother wrung her hands, fell on her knees, and prayed to God, "Grant not my prayers, when they are contrary to Thy will, which at all times must be the best. Oh, hear them not;" and her head sank on her bosom.Then Death carried away her child to the unknown land.THE END.。