In the winter of 1845, a poor little girl tried to sell matches in the streets for her family. It was a cold, cold evening. It was snowing and people in horse carriages and in the streets did not notice the little girl... - Not until the next morning, when she was lying quiet in the snow...
1845年的冬天（注：《卖火柴的小女孩》写于1845年），一个可怜的小女孩在大街上卖火柴，以此维持家里的生活。这是一个冰冷的下着雪的夜晚，那些乘着马车匆匆而过的人们并没有注意到这个小女孩……直到第二天早晨，她静静地躺在雪中……
It was dreadfully cold, it was snowing fast, and almost dark； the evening----the last evening of the old year was drawing in. But, cold and dark as it was, a poor little girl, with bare head and feet, was still wandering about the streets. When she left her home she had slippers on, but they were much too large for her； indeed, properly, they belonged to her mother, and had dropped off her feet whilst she was running very fast across the road, to get out of the way of two carriages. One of the slippers was not to be found, the other had been snatched up by a little boy, who ran off with it thinking it might serve him as a doll's cradle.
天气非常非常冷，雪下得很大，夜幕已降临。这是旧年最后的一夜——除夕之夜。尽管天气是那么的寒冷和黑暗，一个贫穷的小女孩，光头赤脚仍在大街上徘徊。当她离家出门的时候，脚上穿着一双拖鞋，那是一双相当大的拖鞋——的确太大了，那是她妈妈穿着合适的一双拖鞋。当她匆忙横穿马路的时候，两辆马车飞快地闯过来，吓得她把拖鞋跑丢了。一只怎么也找不到，另一只被一个小男孩抢跑了。他想，这只鞋可以当做玩具娃娃睡觉的摇篮。
So the little girl now walked on, her bare feet quite red and blue with the cold. She carried a small bundle of matches in her hand, and a good many more in her tattered apron. No one had bought any of them the live long day； no one had given her a single penny. Trembling with cold and hunger crept she on, the picture of sorrow: poor little child!
现在这小女孩只好光着脚在街上行走，一双脚步冻得又红又青。她那破旧的围裙兜着许多火柴，手里还拿着一小捆。可整整一天谁也没有向她买过一根——谁也没有给她一个铜板。她又饿又冷，哆哆嗦嗦地向前走着，这是一幅非常凄惨的景象：可怜的小姑娘！
The snow-flakes fell on her long, fair hair, which curled in such pretty ringlets over her shoulders； but she thought not of her own beauty, or of the cold. Lights were glimmering through every window, and the savor of roast goose reached her from several houses； it was New Year's eve, and it was of this that she thought.
雪花落在她那金黄色的头发上——长长的卷发披散在肩上，看起来十分美丽，可她想不到自己的漂亮。从每扇窗子透出的亮光和飘出的烤鹅肉①香味，使她想起的只是今天是除夕之夜。
①烤鹅肉是丹麦圣诞节和除夕晚餐中的一个主菜。
In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the other. She sat down, drawing her little feet close under her, but in vain, she could not warm them. She dared not go home, she had sold no matches, earned not a single penny, and perhaps her father would beat her， besides her home was almost as cold as the street， it was an attic； and although the larger of the many chinks in the roof were stopped up with straw and rags. the wind and snow often penetrated through. Her hands were nearly dead with cold； one little match from her bundle would warm them. Perhaps, if she dared light it, she drew one out, and struck it against the wall, bravo! it was a bright, warm flame, and she held her hands over it. It was quite an illumination for that poor little girl； nay,1 call it rather a magic taper, for it seemed to her as though she was sitting before a large iron-stove with brass ornaments, so beautifully blazed the fire within! The child stretched out her feet to warm them also； alas, in an instant the flame had died away, the stove vanished, the little girl sat cold and comfortless, with the burnt match in her hand.
街边一前一后坐落着两座房子，形成一个小墙角，她蹲在墙角里，把一双小脚卷缩到身下坐了下来，可是没有用，她还是不觉得暖和。她不敢回家，因为她还没有卖掉一根火柴，没有挣到一个铜板，她的父亲也许会因此打她，况且她家几乎和大街上一样冷。那是一间阁楼，虽然屋顶上几个较大的裂口用草和破布堵住了，可风和雪还是不时地灌进来，她那双小手差不多冻僵了。她想，只要她敢抽出一根火柴，在墙上擦燃，就可以暖手，终于她抽出了一根。哧！火柴燃起来了，冒出了火苗。当她双手覆在上面时，它变成了一朵光明、温暖的火焰，象一根奇妙的小蜡烛。小姑娘觉得自己象坐在一个大火炉旁边一样，铁炉镶有铮亮的黄铜花边和底座。火烧得多么旺，多么好啊！小姑娘刚刚伸出她的一双脚，打算暖一下的时候，哎呀！这是怎么样一回事儿？火焰忽然熄灭了！火炉也不见了。她坐在那儿，手里捏着那烧过的火柴，又回到了寒冷和孤单之中。
A second match was struck against the wall； it kindles and blazed, and wherever its light fell the wall became transparent as a veil. The little girl could see into the room within. She saw the table spread with a snow-white damask cloth, whereon were ranged shining china-dishes； the roast goose stuffed with apples and dried plums stood at one end, smoking hot, and which was pleasantest of all to see；the goose, with knife and fork still in her breast, jumped down from the dish, and waddled along the floor right up to the poor child. The match was burnt out, and only the thick, hard wall was beside her.
她又擦着一根火柴，火柴燃起来了，发出了明亮的光。墙上那块被火光照着的地方，忽然变得透明，象一块薄纱。小女孩可以看到房间的东西，桌上铺着雪白的台布，上面放着精致的瓷碟，还有填满梅子和苹果、冒着热气、香喷喷的烤鹅。最美妙的是看见了——这只背上插着刀叉的鹅从盘里跳了出来，摇摇摆摆地在地板上走着，一直向这个可怜的小姑娘走来。就在这时，火柴熄灭了，留在她面前的，只是一堵又厚又冷的墙。
She kindled a third match. Again shot up the flame； and now she was sitting under a most beautiful Christmas tree ,far larger, and far more prettily decked out, than the one she had seen last Christmas eve through the glass doors of the rich merchant's house. Hundreds of wax-tapers lighted up the green branches, and tiny painted figures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down from the tree upon her. The child stretched out her hands towards them in delight, and in that moment the lights of the match warm quenched； still, however, the Christmas candles burned higher and higher， she beheld them beaming like stars in heaven； one of them fell, the lights streaming behind it like a long, fiery tail.
她擦着了第三根火柴，又冒出了火焰。现在她觉得正坐在非常美丽的圣诞树下面，比上次圣诞节透过那富商家的玻璃门看到的那株还要大、还要美。这株树的绿枝上点燃着许许多多的蜡烛，颜色瑰丽的图画，就象橱窗里挂着的那些一样漂亮，仿佛在向她眨眼。小姑娘把两只手伸过去，火柴又熄灭了。然而圣诞树上的烛光越升越高。她看到它们变成了明亮的星星，有一颗落下来，在天上划出一道长长的火丝。
“Now some one is dying,” said the little girl, softly, for she had been told by her old grandmother， the only person who had ever been kind to her, and who was now dead that whenever a star falls an immortal spirit returns to the God who gave it.
She struck yet another match against the wall； it flamed up, and surrounded by its light, appeared before her that same dear grandmother, gentle and loving as always, but bright and happy as she had never looked during her lifetime.
“现在又有一个什么人死了①。”小姑娘说。因为她的老祖母——一个唯一待她好的人，现在已经死了，曾经告诉过她，天上落下一颗星，地上就有一个灵魂回到曾赋于他生命的上帝那里去。
她在墙上又擦了一根火柴，火光把四周照亮了。在亮光里，亲爱的和生前一样的祖母出现了。她依然是那么的慈爱和温和，然而那快活和幸福的样子却是她生前从未有过的。
①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。
“Grandmother!” exclaimed the child, “oh, take me with you! I know thou1 wilt2leave me as soon as the match goes out， thou wilt vanish like warm fire in the stove, like the splendid New Year's feast, like the beautiful large Christmas tree!” and she hastily lighted all the remaining matches in the bundle, last her grandmother should disappear. And the matches burned with such a blaze of splendor, that noon day could scarcely have been brighter. Never had the good old grandmother looked so tall and stately, so beautiful and kind； she took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew together-higher, till they were in that place where neither cold, nor hunger, nor pain, is ever known， they were in paradise.
“奶奶！”小姑娘叫了起来，“啊！把我带走吧！我知道这火柴一熄灭，你就会象炉中温暖的火焰，丰盛的新年饭食，美丽的大圣诞树一样地不见了！”她急忙把剩下的一束火柴都擦着了，生怕祖母走了，这束火柴发出强烈的光芒，照得比白天还要亮。祖母从来没有象现在这样显得高大、美丽和亲切。她把小姑娘抱起来，搂在怀里。她们俩在光明和快乐飞走了，越飞越高，飞到既没有寒冷，又没有饥饿和忧愁的地方——那就是极乐世界。
But in the cold morning hour, crouching in the corner of the wall, the poor little girl was found：her cheeks glowing, her lips smiling， frozen to death on the last night of the old Year. The New Year's sun shone on the lifeless child； motionless she sat there with the matches in her lap, one bundle of them quite burnt out.
“She has been trying to warm herself, poor thing!” the people said， but no one knew of the sweet visions she had beheld, or how gloriously she and her grandmother were celebrating their New Year's festival.
直到寒冷的早晨，人们发现一个可怜的小姑娘蜷缩在墙角里，她双颊通红，嘴唇上带着微笑，她已经在旧年的除夕冻死了。新年的太阳升起来了，照在她那小小的身体上！她一动也不动地坐在那里，手中还捏着火柴，其中一捆已经完全烧光了。
“可怜的孩子！她是想把自己暖一下呀！”然而却没有人知道，她曾看到过多么美妙的东西，她曾多么快乐地跟祖母在一起欢度新年佳节！
延伸阅读：
这篇童话发表在1846年的《丹麦大众历书》上。安徒生在他的手记中写道：“我在去国外旅行的途中在格洛斯登城堡住了几天。《卖火柴的小女孩》就是在那里写成的。我那时接到出版商佛林奇先生的信，要求我为他的历书写一个故事，以配合其中的三幅画。我选了以一个穷苦小女孩拿着一包火柴为画面的那张画。”这幅画是丹麦画家龙布（J.T.Lumdbye，1818～1848）的手笔。
1848年，安徒生到国外去旅行。在途中收到了一封朋友的来信，要求他按照信中寄来的画片写故事。其中一张画片上，画的是一个美丽的小女孩，金黄的长头发打成卷儿披在肩上。她手里拿着许多火柴，瞪大了一双可怜的眼睛，好像在想些什么。安徒生看着这张画片，不由得想起了自己的身世：他出生在一个贫苦家庭，11岁时爸爸去世以后，妈妈改嫁了，他只好和奶奶相依为命。每到傍晚，他盼望着讨饭的奶奶快些回来。慈祥的奶奶一回家，便把他搂在怀里，给他带来温暖，为他解除饥饿……想着这些，安徒生以自己的亲身感受，借助他超凡的想像能力，写下了《卖火柴的小女孩》这篇凄美动人的童话。
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