Xem Nhiều 12/2022 #️ Reading : The Little Match Girl – Cô Bé Bán Diêm – Speak English / 2023 # Top 18 Trend | Anhngucongdong.com

Xem Nhiều 12/2022 # Reading : The Little Match Girl – Cô Bé Bán Diêm – Speak English / 2023 # Top 18 Trend

Cập nhật thông tin chi tiết về Reading : The Little Match Girl – Cô Bé Bán Diêm – Speak English / 2023 mới nhất trên website Anhngucongdong.com. Hy vọng nội dung bài viết sẽ đáp ứng được nhu cầu của bạn, chúng tôi sẽ thường xuyên cập nhật mới nội dung để bạn nhận được thông tin nhanh chóng và chính xác nhất.

The Little Match Girl

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening– the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.

One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

She crept along trembling with cold and hunger–a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!

The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year’s Eve; yes, of that she thought.

Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. “Rischt!” how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but–the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.

She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when–the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant’s house.

Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when–the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.

“Someone is just dead!” said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.

She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love.

“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety–they were with God.

But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall–frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. “She wanted to warm herself,” people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.

Reading : The Little Match Girl / 2023

One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

She crept along trembling with cold and hunger-a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!

The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year’s Eve; yes, of that she thought.

Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. “Rischt!” how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but-the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.

She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when-the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant’s house.

Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when-the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.

“Someone is just dead!” said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.

She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love.

“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety-they were with God.

But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall-frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. “She wanted to warm herself,” people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.

Truyện Cổ Tích Cô Bé Bán Diêm / 2023

“Cô bé bán diêm” kể về những ước mơ và hy vọng của một em gái bé nhỏ khi em đối mặt với cái chết trong đêm giao thừa lạnh lẽo.

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“Cô bé bán diêm” là một truyện ngắn đã lấy đi biết bao nhiêu nước mắt của tuổi thơ tôi cũng như những đứa trẻ cùng thời, khi mà nó được đưa vào chương trình học, trong những trang sách giáo khoa đầu đời. Cho đến tận bây giờ tôi vẫn cảm thấy một niềm xúc động trào dâng trong lòng mỗi khi nghĩ tới em bé tội nghiệp đó, trong cái đêm cuối năm lạnh buốt đã cướp đi sinh mạng nhưng không thể cướp đi nụ cười trong trẻo của em.

Đây là một truyện ngắn của nhà thơ Đan Mạch Hans Christian Andersen – một tác giả quá quen thuộc với bạn đọc nhỏ tuổi. “Cô bé bán diêm” kể về những ước mơ và hy vọng của một em gái bé nhỏ khi em đối mặt với cái chết trong đêm giao thừa lạnh lẽo. Truyện được xuất bản lần đầu vào năm 1845 và sau đó được chuyển thể thành phim hoạt hình và nhạc kịch truyền hình.

“Cô bé bán diêm” xuất bản lần đầu vào tháng 12 năm 1845. Tiếp đó là các lần tái bản vào các năm 1848, 1849, 1850; 1863. Ngày nay, đây là một câu chuyện rất nổi tiếng và sẽ thật là thiếu sót nếu như Vườn cổ tích không giới thiệu tới các bạn nhỏ của chúng ta tác phẩm này.

Hôm đó là ngày cuối cùng của năm, thời tiết vô cùng lạnh giá, nhất là khi màn đêm đang dần buông xuống trên các con phố. Mọi người nô nức với quần áo ấm, găng tay, mũ len, chân xỏ giày long ấm áp… họ đổ ra đường đi để cùng đón giao thừa bên người thân và bạn bè. Trên tay mỗi người là một gói quá được gói rất đẹp mắt. Trông ai cũng tràn đầy hạnh phúc.

Những bông tuyết trắng bắt đầu rơi, tức là trời đang ngày một lạnh hơn. Trên đường lúc này không ai để ý tới một cô bé bán diêm nhỏ bé. Em mặc một bộ quần áo cũ ngả màu với chằng chịt các miếng vá, chân em đi một đôi giày vải cũ do chính tay mẹ em may cho trước kia, tay em xách một cái làn cũ đựng đầy những bao diêm. Co ro trong giá ret, em vừa đi vừa cất tiếng rao: “Ai mua diêm không? Ai mua diêm không?”. Giọng em run rẩy và lọt thỏm giữa tiếng trò truyện, tiếng cười và niềm hân hoan của mọi người. Không có ai dừng lại để mua diêm cho em.

Người trên phố thưa thớt dần, còn đôi chân cô bé bán diêm giờ đã lạnh cóng và tê dại đến không còn cảm giác nữa. Đường đêm vắng lặng, mọi người đều đã được trở về nhà ngồi bên lò sưởi ấm áp, thế mà em vẫn chưa bán được que diêm nào. Em cũng ước ao được về nhà nhưng không thể.

Cô bé bán diêm của chúng ta cũng đã từng có một mái nhà ấm cúng. Mẹ em rất yêu quý em, nhưng không may lâm bệnh nặng nên bà đã qua đời. Sau khi mẹ em ra đi, cha em đâm rầu rĩ rồi trở thành một kẻ nghiện rượu, ngày nào cũng say khướt trong men rượu. Ông ta mất hết tỉnh táo, bắt con gái đi bán diêm, bán không hết thì không được quay về nhà.

Cô bé đang mải suy nghĩ miên man thì có một cỗ xe ngựa lao tới. Em giật mình vội tránh sang một bên nhưng không kịp, em ngã xoài xuống nền tuyết lạnh, cái giỏ đựng diêm bị tung ra bẹp dúm, những que diêm vương vãi khắp mặt đất. Đôi giày vải mỏng manh của em cũng văng đi đằng nào mấy. Giờ thì đến giầy cũng không còn mà đi, cô bé bán diêm phải đi chân không trên nền tuyết lạnh.

Những que diêm rơi hết xuống tuyết và trở nên ẩm ướt không thể bán cho ai được nữa. Em chỉ còn bó diêm cuối cùng ở trong túi áo. Giờ dù đang run cầm cập vì lạnh nhưng em cũng không dám nghĩ tới chuyện về nhà, em sợ đòn roi của người cha say rượu. Cô bé chụm tay hà hơi cho đỡ lạnh nhưng cũng chẳng ấm lên chút nào.

Cô gái nhỏ đáng thương! Em bước đi mãi, đi mãi trên đôi chân tê cóng không còn cảm giác. Em đứng trước của một ngôi nhà lớn, trong nhà, rèm cửa sổ vẫn vén, ánh đèn từ trong nhà hắt ra, em ghé mắt nhìn qua cửa sổ, mọi người đang quây quần bên nhau quanh chiếc bàn lớn. Lửa trong lò sưởi cháy sang, cây thông năm mới chăng đầy đồ trang trí và đèn nhấp nháy. Cô gái trong nhà đang ôm trong lòng món quà năm mới là một con thỏ ngọc có đôi mắt tròn và bộ lông trắng muốt, còn cậu bé đang say sưa thưởng thức chiếc bánh kem thơm mùi va ni. Cô bé bán diêm đứng ngoài cửa sổ, thầm nghĩ: “Nếu mẹ thân yêu còn sống, mẹ chắc hẳn cũng cho mình đồ chơi, và cho mình ăn ngon như thế”.

Gió lạnh thôi không ngừng làm em phải co người lại. Em nhìn ra xung quanh như muốn xem có cách nào có thể làm ấm hơn. Cuối cùng em chợt nhớ tới bó diêm trong tay. Em lập cập rút ra một que diêm và quẹt vào tường. Que diêm bốc cháy, em vội khum bàn tay bé nhỏ hơ vào ngọn lửa. Ngọn lửa tuy bé xíu nhưng cũng làm cho đôi bàn tay của em có cảm giác hơi ấm lên một chút. Em mơ màng tưởng tượng như mình đang được ngồi bên lò sưởi, lửa cháy sáng rực và ấm áp biết bao! Em vừa duỗi đôi chân tê dại ra sưởi ấm thì lò sưởi biến đâu mất. Trong tay em chỉ còn lại một khúc tàn diêm vừa cháy.

Em cúi đầu nhìn bó diêm trong tay thầm nghĩ: “Mình sẽ đốt them một que diêm khác, lò sưởi nhất định sẽ hiện ra”. Cô bé lại quẹt diêm vào tường, ngắm nhìn ngọn lửa chờ đợi. Trong ảo ảnh hiện ra em nhìn thấy một cái bàn ăn thật lớn, trên bàn là bát đĩa thật đẹp bày đầy những thức ăn thịnh soạn.

“Chắc là toàn thức ăn ngon lắm đây”, cô bé bán diêm nuốt nước bọt. “Mẹ thân yêu ở trên trời gửi xuống cho mình đây mà”, em đưa tay định cầm lấy chiếc bánh ngọt, bỗng cả bàn ăn biến mất trong nháy mắt giống như cái lò sưởi. Que diêm thứ hai lại tắt.

Reading : Nàng Công Chúa Tóc Mây Rapunzel – Speak English / 2023

Rapunzel

There once lived a man and his wife, who had long wished for a child, but in vain. Now there was at the back of their house a little window which overlooked a beautiful garden full of the finest vegetables and flowers; but there was a high wall all round it, and no one ventured into it, for it belonged to a witch of great might, and of whom all the world was afraid.

One day that the wife was standing at the window, and looking into the garden, she saw a bed filled with the finest rampion; and it looked so fresh and green that she began to wish for some; and at length she longed for it greatly. This went on for days, and as she knew she could not get the rampion, she pined away, and grew pale and miserable. Then the man was uneasy, and asked, “What is the matter, dear wife?”

“Oh,” answered she, “I shall die unless I can have some of that rampion to eat that grows in the garden at the back of our house.” The man, who loved her very much, thought to himself, “Rather than lose my wife I will get some rampion, cost what it will.” So in the twilight he climbed over the wall into the witch’s garden, plucked hastily a handful of rampion and brought it to his wife. She made a salad of it at once, and ate of it to her heart’s content. But she liked it so much, and it tasted so good, that the next day she longed for it thrice as much as she had done before; if she was to have any rest the man must climb over the wall once more. So he went in the twilight again; and as he was climbing back, he saw, all at once, the witch standing before him, and was terribly frightened, as she cried, with angry eyes, “How dare you climb over into my garden like a thief, and steal my rampion! it shall be the worse for you!”

“Oh,” answered he, “be merciful rather than just, I have only done it through necessity; for my wife saw your rampion out of the window, and became possessed with so great a longing that she would have died if she could not have had some to eat.” Then the witch said, “If it is all as you say you may have as much rampion as you like, on one condition – the child that will come into the world must be given to me. It shall go well with the child, and I will care for it like a mother.”

In his distress of mind the man promised everything; and when the time came when the child was born the witch appeared, and, giving the child the name of Rapunzel (which is the same as rampion), she took it away with her.

Rapunzel was the most beautiful child in the world. When she was twelve years old the witch shut her up in a tower in the midst of a wood, and it had neither steps nor door, only a small window above. When the witch wished to be let in, she would stand below and would cry,

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”

Rapunzel had beautiful long hair that shone like gold. When she. heard the voice of the witch she would undo the fastening of the upper window, unbind the plaits of her hair, and let it down twenty ells below, and the witch would climb up by it.

After they had lived thus a few years it happened that as the King’s son was riding through the wood, he came to the tower; and as he drew near he heard a voice singing so sweetly that he stood still and listened. It was Rapunzel in her loneliness trying to pass away the time with sweet songs. The King’s son wished to go in to her, and sought to find a door in the tower, but there was none. So he rode home, but the song had entered into his heart, and every day he went into the wood and listened to it. Once, as he was standing there under a tree, he saw the witch come up, and listened while she called out,

“O Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair.”

Then he saw how Rapunzel let down her long tresses, and how the witch climbed up by it and went in to her, and he said to himself, “Since that is the ladder I will climb it, and seek my fortune.” And the next day, as soon as it began to grow dusk, he went to the tower and cried,

“O Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair.”

And she let down her hair, and the King’s son climbed up by it. Rapunzel was greatly terrified when she saw that a man had come in to her, for she had never seen one before; but the King’s son began speaking so kindly to her, and told how her singing had entered into his heart, so that he could have no peace until he had seen her herself. Then Rapunzel forgot her terror, and when he asked her to take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and beautiful, she thought to herself, “I certainly like him much better than old mother Gothel,” and she put her hand into his hand.

She said: “I would willingly go with thee, but I do not know how I shall get out. When thou comest, bring each time a silken rope, and I will make a ladder, and when it is quite ready I will get down by it out of the tower, and thou shalt take me away on thy horse.” They agreed that he should come to her every evening, as the old woman came in the day-time.

So the witch knew nothing of all this until once Rapunzel said to her unwittingly, “Mother Gothel, how is it that you climb up here so slowly, and the King’s son is with me in a moment?”

“O wicked child,” cried the witch, “what is this I hear! I thought I had hidden thee from all the world, and thou hast betrayed me!” In her anger she seized Rapunzel by her beautiful hair, struck her several times with her left hand, and then grasping a pair of shears in her right – snip, snap – the beautiful locks lay on the ground. And she was so hard-hearted that she took Rapunzel and put her in a waste and desert place, where she lived in great woe and misery. The same day on which she took Rapunzel away she went back to the tower in the evening and made fast the severed locks of hair to the window-hasp, and the King’s son came and cried,

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair.”

Then she let the hair down, and the King’s son climbed up, but instead of his dearest Rapunzel he found the witch looking at him with wicked glittering eyes.

“Aha!” cried she, mocking him, “you came for your darling, but the sweet bird sits no longer in the nest, and sings no more; the cat has got her, and will scratch out your eyes as well! Rapunzel is lost to you; you will see her no more.” The King’s son was beside himself with grief, and in his agony he sprang from the tower: he escaped with life, but the thorns on which he fell put out his eyes. Then he wandered blind through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and doing nothing but lament and weep for the loss of his dearest wife.

So he wandered several years in misery until at last he came to the desert place where Rapunzel lived with her twin-children that she had borne, a boy and a girl. At first he heard a voice that he thought he knew, and when he reached the place from which it seemed to come Rapunzel knew him, and fell on his neck and wept. And when her tears touched his eyes they became clear again, and he could see with them as well as ever. Then he took her to his kingdom, where he was received with great joy, and there they lived long and happily.

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