Một em bé tay ôm bao giấy đầy những hộp diêm, vừa đi vừa cất giọng rao mời. Lạnh như vậy mà bé phải lê đôi chân trần trên hè phố. Đôi dép cũ rích của bé sáng nay đã bị lũ trẻ ngoài phố nghịch ngợm dấu đi mất. Trời lạnh như xé. Hai bàn chân của bé bị sưng tím. Bé cố lê từng bước sát dưới mái hiên cho đỡ lạnh, thỉnh thoảng đôi mắt giây thơ ngước nhìn đám đông hờ hửng qua lại, nửa van xin, nửa ngại ngùng. Không hiểu sao bé chỉ bán có vài xu một hộp diêm như mọi ngày mà đêm nay không ai thèm hỏi đến.
Càng về đêm, trời càng lạnh. Tuyết vẫn cứ rơi đều trên hè phố. Bé bán diêm cảm thấy người mệt lả. Đôi bàn chân bây giờ tê cứng, không còn chút cảm giác. Bé thèm được về nhà nằm cuộn mình trên chiếc giường tồi tàn trong góc để ngủ một giấc cho quên đói, quên lạnh. Nhưng nghỉ đến những lời đay nghiến, những lằn roi vun vút của người mẹ ghẻ, bé rùng mình hối hả bước mau. Được một lát, bé bắt đầu dán mắt vào những ngôi nhà hai bên đường. Nhà nào cũng vui vẻ, ấm cúng và trang hoàng rực rỡ. Chỗ thì đèn màu nhấp nháy, chỗ có cây giáng sinh với những quà bánh đầy màu. Có nhà dọn lên bàn gà tây, rượu, bánh trái trông thật ngon lành. Bất giác bé nuốt nước miếng, mắt hoa lên, tay chân rung bần bật, bé thấy mình lạnh và đói hơn bao giờ hết. Đưa tay lên ôm mặt, bé thất thểu bước đi trong tiếng nhạc giáng sinh văng vẳng khắp nơi và mọi người thản nhiên, vui vẻ, sung sướng mừng Chúa ra đời ...
Càng về khuya, tuyết càng rơi nhiều. Bóng tối, cơn lạnh lẫn cơn đói như phủ lên, như quấn vào hình hài nhỏ bé ốm yếu. Bé vào núp bên vỉa hè giữa hai dẫy nhà cao để tránh cơn gió quái ác và tìm chút hơi ấm trong đêm. Ngồi nghỉ một lát, chợt nhớ ra bao diêm, bé lấy ra một cây, quẹt lên để sưởi cho mấy ngón tay bớt cóng. Cây diêm cháy bùng lên thật sáng, thật ấm, nhưng chỉ một lát thì tắt mất. Bé quẹt lên một cây diêm thứ hai. Khi cây diêm cháy bùng lên, bé thấy trước mặt mình một bàn đầy thức ăn, những món đặc biệt của ngày lễ giáng sinh. Bé mừng quá, đưa tay ra chụp lấy thì ngay lúc ấy cây diêm tắt, để lại bé trong bóng tối dầy đặc, với cái lạnh bây giờ càng khủng khiếp hơn. Bé sợ quá, sợ lạnh, sợ tối, vội vàng lấy bao giấy đổ diêm ra hết, rồi cứ quẹt lên từng cây một, hết cây này đến cây khác. Trong ánh sáng của mỗi cây diêm bé thấy mình được về nhà, được gặp lại bà ngoại thân yêu. Bà âu yếm bế bé đến gần lò sưởi, mặc cho bé chiếc áo choàng dài thật ấm, thật đẹp, xong nhẹ nhàng đút cho bé từng miếng bánh ngon. Bà trìu mến ôm bé vào lòng, vuốt ve, hỏi han đủ chuyện. Mổi lần que diêm tắt, hình ảnh bà ngoại thân yêu tan biến, bé hoảng sợ, vội vàng quẹt lên một que khác, bà lại hiện ra. Cứ như vậy, tay bé cứ say sưa quẹt hết mớ diêm này đến mớ diêm khác. Rồi như người điên, bé lấy que diêm châm vào cả hộp diêm. Khi ánh lửa bùng lên, bé thấy bà cúi xuống bế bé lên, mang bé bay bổng về nơi đầy tiếng hát, đầy những người thân yêu, bé không còn thấy lạnh, thấy đói nữa.
Sáng hôm sau, những người trong phố tìm thấy em bé đáng thương nằm chết bên cạnh đống diêm rãi tung tóe trong ngõ hẻm.
Đây là chuyện ngắn tựa nguyên thủy "Den lille pige med svovlstikkeme" dịch nghỉa tiếng Anh: "The little girl with the sulphur sticks", tiếng Pháp: "La petite fille aux allumettes" của nhà văn kèm nhà thơ người Đan Mạch Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1874). Truyện ngắn này xuất bản vào năm 1845.
Tóm tắt nội dung tiếng Anh. Plot summary
On a cold New Year's Eve, a poor girl tries to sell matches in the street. She is freezing badly, but she is afraid to go home because her father will beat her for not selling any matches. She takes shelter in a nook and light the matches to warm herself. In their glow, she sees several lovely visions including a Christmas tree and a holiday feast.
The girl looks skyward, sees a shooting star, and remembers her deceased grandmother saying that such a falling star means someone died and is going into Heaven. As she lights her next match, she sees a vision of her grandmother, the only person to have treated her with love and kindness. She strikes one match after another to keep the vision of her grandmother nearby for as long as she can. The child dies and her grandmother carries her soul to Heaven. The next morning, passers-by find the dead child in the nook, with rosy red cheeks and a smile on her face. They express sadness at her death and the burnt-out matches she must have used to warm herself, but they cannot know the wonderful visions she saw in her final moments or how gloriously she is celebrating the New Year with her grandmother.
*****
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.
In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.
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.
The girl looks skyward, sees a shooting star, and remembers her deceased grandmother saying that such a falling star means someone died and is going into Heaven. As she lights her next match, she sees a vision of her grandmother, the only person to have treated her with love and kindness. She strikes one match after another to keep the vision of her grandmother nearby for as long as she can. The child dies and her grandmother carries her soul to Heaven. The next morning, passers-by find the dead child in the nook, with rosy red cheeks and a smile on her face. They express sadness at her death and the burnt-out matches she must have used to warm herself, but they cannot know the wonderful visions she saw in her final moments or how gloriously she is celebrating the New Year with her grandmother.
*****
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.
In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.
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.
Bài hát từ trái tim, rất cảm động.
Người đàn ông trong ban giám khảo:
- Cháu rất đẹp trai
- đó là một ước mơ đẹp
Người đàn ông trong ban giám khảo:
Hôm nay cháu mang gì đến cho mọi người ở đây?
* Bài hát Mông Cổ: "Mong Zhung de Eej" (梦中的额吉 Eej in the Dream)
- "Dream" chú biết, nhưng "Eej" là gì?
The translation of lyrics:
Mother in the Dream
In the stillness among the vast lands
The Brave Tin Soldier
Max and Moritz in seven tricks - by Wilhelm Busch
Max and Moritz in seven tricks - by Wilhelm Busch -> Xem Tiếp chuyện 3 đến 7
The story of Augustus who would not have any soup
go there for -----> more stories of Dr. H. H.
How to get along with a limited vocabulary
The potato peeler story
How to talk to a computer
The little Girl and the Wolf
...trong China's Got Talent 2011
Em bé trai 12 tuổi, người Mông Cổ, mồ côi cha mẹ. Mất cha mẹ từ lúc 8 tuổi,
hát bản nhạc tiếng Mông Cổ "Mong Zhung de Eej" dịch "Mother in the Dream" "Mẹ trong Giấc Mơ".
Giọng em rất dịu dàng, êm đềm, trong sáng như thiên thần, giọng nức nở, thật buồn. Dù em không chảy một giọt nước mắt, nhưng như khóc thầm cho chính định mệnh của mình...
Có rất nhiều clip bị đài truyền hình tàu ghép tiếng của bé trai khác Baator Dorji vào hình của Uudamu. Dorji là người cùng đội hợp ca với Uudamu. Tuy giọng của Dorji mạnh mẽ hơn nhưng không đi vào trái tim của con người "don't touch the heart of the people" như giọng của Uudamu. Có lẽ vì Dorji chưa hề mất cha mất mẹ, chưa hề vì nhớ mẹ mà cất lên tiếng hát truyền tình thương nhớ từ trái tim...
dịch phần tự giới thiệu:
Cháu tên Uudamu
Cháu đến từ đại thảo nguyên Hulunbeier, Mông Cổ
Cháu rất thích hát từ khi cháu còn nhỏ (mĩm cười)
trên đồng cỏ cháu có thể la hét,
và hát lên tất cả những gì cháu muốn.
Mẹ cháu rất thích nhìn gương mặt cháu mỗi khi cháu hát
...Người đàn ông trong ban giám khảo:
- Cháu rất đẹp trai
* Cảm ơn
Hôm nay cháu sẽ thể hiện hết khả năng của mình trên sân khấu.
- Tên của cháu là gì?
* Cháu tên Uudamu
- Trang phục của cháu theo tôi được biết là của người Mông Cổ
* Vâng, cháu là người Mông Cổ
- Cháu ở đâu của Mông Cổ
* trong... nội Mông Cổ Hulunbeier
- Hulunbeier... đồng cỏ lớn
* Dạ
- Vậy ước mơ của cháu là gì?
* Cháu muốn phát minh ra một loại mực đặc biệt
để khi đổ xuống đất
nó sẽ biến cả trái đất thành cánh đồng xanh tươi.
To invent a kind of ink that just need a drop to drop on the ground, the whole world will cover with green grass.
Người đàn bà trong ban giám khảo:- đó là một ước mơ đẹp
Người đàn ông trong ban giám khảo:
Hôm nay cháu mang gì đến cho mọi người ở đây?
* Cháu sẽ... hát.
- Cháu sẽ hát bài gì?* Bài hát Mông Cổ: "Mong Zhung de Eej" (梦中的额吉 Eej in the Dream)
- "Dream" chú biết, nhưng "Eej" là gì?
* "Eej" có nghĩa là mẹ (Mother)
- Tại sao cháu chọn bài hát này?
* Mỗi khi nhớ mẹ, cháu hát bài này.
- Vậy, mẹ của cháu đang ở đâu?
* Mẹ cháu... đang ở trên trời.
- Vậy còn cha của cháu?
* Ba cháu cũng qua đời trong một tai nạn giao thông.
- Bây giờ cháu bắt đầu hát được chứ?
* Dạ được ạ.
Mother in the Dream
Mẹ trong Giấc Mơ
Mutter im TraumIn the stillness among the vast lands
Trong tĩnh lặng giữa đất trời rộng lớn
In der Stille inmitten immens grosses Land
I dream of Mother praying for me
In der Stille inmitten immens grosses Land
I dream of Mother praying for me
em mơ thấy mẹ đang cầu nguyện cho em
Ich träume von Mutter die für mich betet
She looks afar and gives precious milk to the heavens
Ich träume von Mutter die für mich betet
She looks afar and gives precious milk to the heavens
mẹ cúng biếu sữa, thứ quý giá cho trời
Sie sieht fern und gibt wertvolle Milch in den Himmel
As offering for my well-being
Sie sieht fern und gibt wertvolle Milch in den Himmel
As offering for my well-being
như để chuộc cho em niềm hạnh phúc
als Opfergabe für mein Wohlbefinden
My Mother, so far away.
als Opfergabe für mein Wohlbefinden
My Mother, so far away.
mẹ của em ở một nơi rất xa
Meine Mutter, so weit weg.
Meine Mutter, so weit weg.
Stars twinkle above the grasslands while
Những vì sao lấp lánh trên đồng cỏ
Während die Sterne funken über den Grasland
In my dream I see Mother's caring face
Während die Sterne funken über den Grasland
In my dream I see Mother's caring face
trong giấc mơ của em, em nhìn thấy khuôn mặt ân cần của mẹ
In meinem Traum sehe ich Mutter fürsorgliches Gesicht
As she prays to the heavens to wish me godspeed
In meinem Traum sehe ich Mutter fürsorgliches Gesicht
As she prays to the heavens to wish me godspeed
Mẹ ở thiên đường và cầu nguyện cho em một cuộc sống bình an
als sie zum Himmel betet für mein Wohlsein
als sie zum Himmel betet für mein Wohlsein
My Mother, so far away.
Mẹ của em ở một nơi rất xa
Meine Mutter, so weit weg.
Meine Mutter, so weit weg.
In my dream I see Home basking in golden sunbeam
Trong giấc mơ của em, em thấy ngôi nhà thân yêu hiện ra dưới tia nắng vàng của mặt trời
In meinem Traum sehe ich das Haus in goldenen Sonnenstrahl
While Mother softly sings an enchanting melody
In meinem Traum sehe ich das Haus in goldenen Sonnenstrahl
While Mother softly sings an enchanting melody
trong khi mẹ nhẹ nhàng hát một giai điệu êm đềm
während Mutter singt leise eine zauberhafte Melodie
There in the grasslands lies my everlasting home
während Mutter singt leise eine zauberhafte Melodie
There in the grasslands lies my everlasting home
Trên vùng đồng cỏ xanh trải dài trước nhà em
dort auf dem Grasland liegt meine Heimat
My dearest Mother, wait for my return.
dort auf dem Grasland liegt meine Heimat
My dearest Mother, wait for my return.
mẹ thân yêu của em, chờ đợi em trở về.
Meine allerliebste Mutter wartet auf meine Rückkehr.
My dearest Mother, wait for my return.
Meine allerliebste Mutter wartet auf meine Rückkehr.
My dearest Mother, wait for my return.
mẹ thân yêu của em, chờ đợi em trở về.
Meine allerliebste Mutter wartet auf meine Rückkehr.
Uudamu 乌达木 vào được vòng chung kết 4 người, nhưng không được chọn 2 người cuối cùng tranh giải nhứt. Đoạt giải vẫn là một tên ba tàu (múa loạn) Popper Zhuojun... đối với tôi không có gì vượt trội vì tôi đã thấy còn rất nhiều người diễn còn xuất sắc hơn gấp nhiều lần.
Năng khiếu xuất sắc nhứt, người tài năng nhứt (Talent) của tàu cũng không vượt qua khỏi cái tầm mức: "dõm"...và muôn thuở tàu vẫn cái tật "lường công" vĩnh viễn không chừa!
more stories ...The Brave Tin Soldier
Max and Moritz in seven tricks - by Wilhelm Busch
Max and Moritz in seven tricks - by Wilhelm Busch -> Xem Tiếp chuyện 3 đến 7
The story of Augustus who would not have any soup
go there for -----> more stories of Dr. H. H.
How to get along with a limited vocabulary
The potato peeler story
How to talk to a computer
The little Girl and the Wolf
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