The Little Mermaid § Малката русалка

She saw her sisters rising out of the flood: they were as pale as herself; but their long beautiful hair waved no more in the wind, and had been cut off.

“We have given our hair to the witch,” said they, “to obtain help for you, that you may not die to-night. She has given us a knife: here it is, see it is very sharp. Before the sun rises you must plunge it into the heart of the prince; when the warm blood falls upon your feet they will grow together again, and form into a fish’s tail, and you will be once more a mermaid, and return to us to live out your three hundred years before you die and change into the salt sea foam.

The little mermaid, Hans Christian Andersen

Ала изведнъж из дълбините на морето изскочиха нейните сестри. Те бяха също тъй бледни като нея. Дългите им прекрасни коси не се развяваха вече от вятъра — те бяха отрязани.           
  — Ние ги дадохме на магьосницата, за да те спасим и да не те оставим да умреш тая нощ. А тя ни даде ето тоя нож. Виж колко е остър! Преди да изгрее слънцето, ти трябва да го забиеш в сърцето на княза и когато неговата топла кръв опръска твоите крака, те отново ще станат рибя опашка и ти ще се превърнеш пак в русалка, ще слезеш при нас на дъното на морето и ще изживееш твоите триста години, преди да станеш мъртва солена пяна върху морската повърхност.

Малката русалка, Ханс Кристиан Андерсен

Gallery

Grandmother

grandmere enfant2.jpg

Grandmother is very old, her face is wrinkled, and her hair is quite white; but her eyes are like two stars, and they have a mild, gentle expression in them when they look at you, which does you good. She wears a dress of heavy, rich silk, with large flowers worked on it; and it rustles when she moves. And then she can tell the most wonderful stories. Grandmother knows a great deal, for she was alive before father and mother—that’s quite certain.

Grandmother by Hans Christian Andersen

La bergère et le ramoneur § Овчарката и коминочистачът

kominochistach.jpg

Mon chemin passe par la cheminée, as-tu le courage de grimper avec moi à travers le poêle, d’abord, le foyer, puis le tuyau où il fait nuit noire? Après le poêle, nous devons passer dans la cheminée elle-même; à partir de là, je m’y entends, nous monterons si haut qu’ils ne pourront pas nous atteindre, et tout en haut, il y a un trou qui ouvre sur le monde.

— Моят път минава през комина! Имаш ли смелостта да скочиш с мен в печката и да се покатериш през комина? Там аз зная вече какво да правя. Ние ще се изкачим тъй високо, че никой не ще може да ни стигне. На самия връх има една дупка, през която ще излезем на белия свят.

Vents. Le Jardin du Paradis § Райската градина

vents1.jpg

Il faut donc passer par le chemin de la mort pour arriver au Paradis ?” demanda le prince.

Mais le Vent d’Est, sans répondre, fit un signe de la main et montra une magnifique lumière bleue qui brillait du côté où ils se dirigeaient. Les blocs de pierre se transformèrent peu à peu en brouillard, et ce brouillard finit par devenir aussi transparent qu’un nuage blanc et mince, éclairé par la lune. Nos voyageurs se trouvaient dans une atmosphère douce et délicieuse comme celle des montagnes, parfumée comme celle d’une vallée de rosiers.

La petite poucette Палечка

tumberlina

Et elle donna douze shillings à la sorcière, rentra chez elle, planta le grain d’orge, et aussitôt poussa une grande fleur superbe qui ressemblait tout à fait à une tulipe, mais les pétales se refermaient, serrés comme si elle était encore en bouton.

—C’est une belle fleur, dit la femme.

Et elle l’embrassa sur les beaux pétales rouges et jaunes, mais au moment même de ce baiser, la fleur s’ouvrit avec un grand bruit d’explosion. C’était vraiment une tulipe, ainsi qu’il apparut alors, mais au milieu d’elle, assise sur le siège vert, était une toute petite fille, mignonne et gentille, qui n’était pas plus haute qu’un pouce, et qui, pour cette raison, fut appelée Poucette.

Hans Christian Andersen

La petite sirene § Малката русалка

mermaid

Elle nous a donné un couteau. Le voici. Regarde comme il est aiguisé…. Avant que le jour ne se lève, il faut que tu le plonges dans le cœur du prince et lorsque son sang tout chaud tombera sur tes pieds, ils se réuniront en une queue de poisson et tu redeviendras sirène. Tu pourras descendre sous l’eau jusque chez nous et vivre trois cents ans avant de devenir un peu d’écume salée. Hâte-toi! L’un de vous deux doit mourir avant l’aurore. Notre vieille grand-mère a tant de chagrin qu’elle a, comme nous, laissé couper ses cheveux blancs par les ciseaux de la sorcière. Tue le prince, et reviens-nous. Hâte-toi! Ne vois-tu pas déjà cette traînée rose à l’horizon? Dans quelques minutes le soleil se lèvera et il te faudra mourir.

Hans Christian Andersen

THE GOBLIN AND THE HUCKSTER § Джуджето и бакалинът

bakalinyt

From the book shot forth a ray of light which grew broad and full, like the stem of a tree, from which bright rays spread upward and over the student’s head. Each leaf was fresh, and each flower was like a beautiful female head; some with dark and sparkling eyes, and others with eyes that were wonderfully blue and clear. The fruit gleamed like stars, and the room was filled with sounds of beautiful music. The little goblin had never imagined, much less seen or heard of, any sight so glorious as this. He stood still on tiptoe, peeping in, till the light went out in the garret. The student no doubt had blown out his candle and gone to bed; but the little goblin remained standing there nevertheless, and listening to the music which still sounded on, soft and beautiful, a sweet cradle-song for the student, who had lain down to rest.

“This is a wonderful place,” said the goblin; “I never expected such a thing. I should like to stay here with the student;” and the little man thought it over, for he was a sensible little spirit. At last he sighed, “but the student has no jam!”

Hans Christian Andersen

La malle volante

Quelle drôle de malle! si on appuyait sur la serrure, elle pouvait voler.

C’est ce qu’elle fit, et pfut! elle s’envola avec lui à travers la cheminée, très haut, au-dessus des nuages, de plus en plus loin.
(…)
Grand Dieu!…et puis, il arriva au pays des Turcs.

mallevolante.jpg

Hans Christian Andersen

Gerda’s garden

giardino.jpg

“What! are there no roses here?” cried Gerda, and she ran out into the garden and examined all the beds, and searched and searched.

There was not one to be found. Then she sat down and wept, and her tears fell just on the place where one of the rose trees had sunk down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Snow Queen

La fée

la fée2.jpg

 

(…) and then an old, old woman came out of the house;
she was leaning upon a big, 
hooked stick,
and she wore a big sun hat,
which was covered 
with beautiful painted flowers.

Hans Christian Andersen

Under the willow-tree § Sous le saule

sous le saule

Yet still he seemed conscious that the willow-tree was stretching its branches over him; in his dreaming state the tree appeared like a strong, old man—the “willow-father” himself, who had taken his tired son up in his arms to carry him back to the land of home, to the garden of his childhood, on the bleak open shores of Kjoge.  And then he dreamed that it was really the willow-tree itself from Kjoge, which had travelled out in the world to seek him, and now had found him and carried him back into the little garden on the banks of the streamlet; and there stood Joanna, in all her splendor, with the golden crown on her head, as he had last seen her, to welcome him back.

Hans Christian Andersen

La vieille maison

 

Il y demeurait un vieillard qui portait des culottes de peau et un habit à grands boutons de métal, tout à fait à l’ancienne mode; il avait aussi une perruque, mais une perruque qui paraissait bien être une perruque, et qui ne servait pas à simuler habilement de vrais cheveux. Tous les matins, un vieux domestique venait, nettoyait, faisait le ménage et les commissions, puis s’en allait. Le vieillard à culottes de peau habitait tout seul la vieille maison.

un ladruncolo

Hans Christian Andersen

XV. Rudy

“I kissed you, when you were young, kissed you on your mouth! Now I kiss your feet, you are entirely mine!”
He vanished in the clear blue water.
Everything was still; the church bells stopped ringing; the last tones died away with the splendour of the red clouds.
“You are mine!” sounded in the deep. “You are mine!” sounded from on high, from the infinite.
How happy to fly from love to love, from earth to heaven!
A string broke, a cry of grief was heard, the icy kiss of death conquered; the prelude ended; so that the drama of life might commence, discord melted into harmony.

la vierge des glaces

The Ice-Maiden

Hans Christian Andersen

The Old Street Lamp

The old man would read aloud about Africa, with its great forests and the wild elephants, while his wife would listen attentively, stealing a glance now and then at the clay elephants which served as flowerpots. “I can almost imagine I am seeing it all,” she said.

Ah! how the lamp wished for a wax taper to be lighted in it, for then the old woman would have seen the smallest detail as clearly as it did itself; the lofty trees, with their thickly[243] entwined branches, the naked negroes on horseback, and whole herds of elephants treading down bamboo thickets with their broad, heavy feet.

stariat ulichen fener

 

Hans Christian Andersen

OLE-LUK-OIE

Il est bien habillé, son habit est de soie, mais il est impossible d’en dire la couleur, il semble vert, rouge ou bleu selon qu’il se tourne, il tient un parapluie sous chaque bras, l’un décoré d’images et celui-là il l’ouvre au-dessus des enfants sages qui rêvent alors toute la nuit des histoires ravissantes, et sur l’autre parapluie il n’y a rien. Il l’ouvre au-dessus des enfants méchants, alors ils dorment si lourdement que le matin en s’éveillant ils n’ont rien rêvé du tout.

ole umbrella.jpg

Les galoches du bonheur

Dans une maison à Copenhague, non loin de Kongens Nytorv, s’était réunie chez un chambellan de Sa Majesté une société fort nombreuse et distinguée ; les hôtes avaient engagé tout ce beau monde pour être en retour aussi invités quelquefois (…)les galoches du bonheur

Ce qu’on fit ensuite ne mérite pas non plus d’être raconté ; passons donc dans le vestibule, où se trouvaient les manteaux, les cannes, les galoches des invités. Là se tenaient deux filles, l’une vieille, l’autre jeune ; au premier abord, on aurait supposé que c’étaient des femmes de chambre, venues pour accompagner leurs maîtresses au retour. Mais en les considérant d’un peu plus près, on s’apercevait vite que ce n’étaient pas des domestiques, ni même des personnes ordinaires (…)

 

 

Hans Christian Andersen

 

 

Devant le chateau de glace

le corbeau

The walls of the palace were formed of drifted snow, and the windows and doors of cutting winds. There were more than a hundred rooms in it, all as if they had been formed of snow blown together. The largest of them extended for several miles. They were all lighted up by the vivid light of the aurora, and were so large and empty, so icy cold and glittering!

There were no amusements here; not even a little bear’s ball, when the storm might have been the music, and the bears could have danced on their hind legs and shown their good manners. There were no pleasant games of snapdragon, or touch, nor even a gossip over the tea table for the young-lady foxes. Empty, vast, and cold were the halls of the Snow Queen.

Hans Christian Andersen

Les cygnes sauvages

Elisa s’éveilla au bruissement des ailes des cygnes. Les frères de nouveau métamorphosés volaient au-dessus d’elle, puis s’éloignèrent tout à fait; un seul, le plus jeune, demeura en arrière, il posa sa tête sur les genoux de la jeune fille qui caressa ses ailes blanches.

swans

H.Ch. Andersen

Le temps raconte

l'horologe

Maintenant, c’est moi qui raconte ! dit le vent.
– Non, si vous permettez, protesta la pluie, c’est mon tour à
présent ! Cela fait des heures que
vous êtes posté au coin de la
rue en train de souffler de votre mieux.
– Quelle ingratitude ! soupira
le vent. En votre honneur, je
retourne les parapluies, j’en casse
même plusieurs et vous me
brusquez ainsi !
– C’est moi qui raconte, dit le
rayon de soleil. Silence!
H.C.Andersen