一、安徒生童話茶壺的故事
從前有一個驕傲的茶壺，它對它的瓷感到驕傲，對它的長嘴感到驕傲，對它的那個大把手也感到驕傲。它的前面和后邊都有點(diǎn)什么東西!前面是一個壺嘴，后面是一個把手，它老是談著這些東西?？墒撬徽勊纳w子。原來蓋子早就打碎了，是后來釘好的;所以它算是有一個缺點(diǎn)，而人們是不喜歡談自己的缺點(diǎn)的――當(dāng)然別的人會談的。杯子、奶油罐和糖缽――這整套吃茶的用具――都把茶壺蓋的弱點(diǎn)記得清清楚楚。談它的時候比談那個完好的把手和漂亮的壺嘴的時候多。茶壺知道這一點(diǎn)。
“我知道它們!”它自己在心里說，“我也知道我的.缺點(diǎn)，而且我也承認(rèn)。這足以表現(xiàn)我的謙虛，我的樸素。我們大家都有缺點(diǎn);但是我們也有優(yōu)點(diǎn)。杯子有一個把手，糖缽有一個蓋子。我兩樣都有，而且還有他們所沒有的一件東西。我有一個壺嘴;這使我成為茶桌上的皇后。糖缽和奶油罐受到任命，成為甜味的仆人，而我就是任命者――大家的主宰。我把幸福分散給那些干渴的人群。在我的身體里面，中國的茶葉在那毫無味道的開水中放出香氣?！?/p>
這番話是茶壺在它大無畏的青年時代說的。它立在鋪好臺布的茶桌上，一只非常白嫩的手揭開它的蓋子。不過這只非常白嫩的手是很笨的，茶壺落下去了，壺嘴跌斷了，把手?jǐn)嗔蚜?，那個壺蓋也不必再談，因?yàn)殛P(guān)于他的話已經(jīng)講得不少了。茶壺躺在地上昏過去了;開水淌得一地。這對它說來是一個嚴(yán)重的打擊，而最糟糕的是大家都笑它。大家只是笑它，而不笑那只笨拙的手。
“這次經(jīng)歷我永遠(yuǎn)忘記不了!”茶壺后來檢查自己一生的事業(yè)時說。“人們把我叫做一個病人，放在一個角落里;過了一天，人們又把我送給一個討剩飯吃的女人。我下降為貧民了;里里外外，我一句話都不講。不過，正在這時候，我的生活開始好轉(zhuǎn)。真是塞翁失馬，焉知非福。我身體里裝進(jìn)了土;對于一個茶壺說來，這完全是等于入葬。但是土里卻埋進(jìn)了一個花根。誰放進(jìn)去的，誰拿來的，我都不知道。不過它既然放進(jìn)去了，總算是彌補(bǔ)了中國茶葉和開水的這種損失，也算是作為把手和壺嘴打斷的一種報酬。花根躺在土里，躺在我的身體里，成了我的一顆心，一顆活著的心――這樣的東西我從來還不曾有過。我現(xiàn)在有了生命、力量和精神。脈搏跳起來了，花根發(fā)了芽，有了思想和感覺。它開放成為花朵。我看到它，我支持它，我在它的美中忘記了自己。為了別人而忘我――這是一樁幸福的事情!它沒有感謝我;它沒有想到我;它受到人們的崇拜和稱贊。我感到非常高興;它一定也會是多么高興啊!有一天我聽到一個人說它應(yīng)該有一個更好的花盆來配它才對。因此人們把我當(dāng)腰打了一下;那時我真是痛得厲害!不過花兒卻遷進(jìn)一個更好的花盆里去了。
至于我呢?我被扔到院子里去了。我躺在那兒簡直像一堆殘破的碎片――但是我的記憶還在，我忘記不了它?！?/p>
茶壺的故事我非常喜歡，雖然作者沒有告訴我們什么大道理只是講訴了一個茶壺的一生。茶壺就像人一樣，有年輕意氣風(fēng)發(fā)的時候，那時候它很驕傲。它瞧不起奶油罐和糖缽，因?yàn)樗鼡碛袆e人沒有的壺嘴和把手。后來到了中年。天有不測風(fēng)云，有一天它被摔壞了，于是它淪落成為花盆。到最是老年它連花盆也不是，變成了一對碎片。在我們的生活中，常常會遇到這樣的人，他們覺得，只有自己是最出色的，也只有自己最了不起，因此不把別人放在眼里，這種態(tài)度是十分錯誤的。人的一生總是起起落落，不管好壞都應(yīng)該用平常心面對。
二、讀了茶壺這篇課文我收獲了什么
《茶壺》選自安徒生童話，這篇童話講述一只
驕傲虛榮的茶壺經(jīng)常炫耀自己的壺嘴和把手，貶低茶杯和糖罐 甚至經(jīng)常數(shù)落杯蓋的缺點(diǎn)。有一天茶壺被打碎，放進(jìn)了角落 這都對它是一個打擊，但這也讓它告別虛榮的生活，有了新生。表“茶壺”經(jīng)歷災(zāi)難后正確認(rèn)識自己。
文章啟發(fā)我們：做人不能太過虛榮；只有自己的作為給了別人幫助，自己才能感到幸福，就像文中的茶壺一樣，有了花在自己幫助下開放，才有了自己存在的價值，才會感到幸福。
三、安徒生童話英文版一個故事 短一些
Teapot
Once upon a time, there was a proud
teapot. It was proud of its porcelain, its long mouth and its big
handle. There's something in front and behind it!
There's a spout in
front and a handle behind. It's always talking about these things.
But
it doesn't talk about its cover. ?The lid was broken long ago and nailed
later;
so it has a shortcoming, ?and people don't like to talk about
their own shortcomings - of course, ?other people talk about it.
Cups,
butter cans and sugar bowls - the whole set of tea utensils - all
remember the weaknesses of the teapot lid.
It's more time to talk about
it than about the perfect handle and the beautiful spout. The teapot
knows this.
I know them! It said to itself, I also know my
shortcomings, and I admit them. This is enough to show my modesty and
simplicity.
We all have shortcomings; but we also have advantages.
The
cup has a handle and the sugar bowl has a lid. I have both, and there's
one thing they don't have. I have a spout; it makes me queen on the tea
table.
Sugar bowls and butter cans were appointed as sweet servants, and
I was the appointee, the master of all.
I spread happiness among
thirsty people. Inside my body, Chinese tea leaves emit fragrance in
that tasteless boiling water.
This is what the teapot said in its
fearless youth. It stood on the tea table with a table cloth, and a very
white hand uncovered its lid.
But this very white and tender hand is
very clumsy.
The teapot fell ?down, the spout of the teapot broke, the
handle broke, and the lid of ?the teapot need not be talked about any
more, because much has been said ?about him.
The teapot lay unconscious
on the ground; the boiling water flowed all over the place. It was a
serious blow to it, and the worst thing was that everyone laughed at it.
People just laughed at it, not at the clumsy hand.
I will never
forget this experience! The teapot later inspected his lifelong career.
People call me a sick man and put me in a corner, and one day they
give me to a woman who begs for leftovers.
I've fallen into poverty; I
don't say a word inside or outside. But just then, my life began to
improve. It's a blessing in disguise. I've got earth in my body;
for a
teapot, it's totally equivalent to burial. But a flower root was buried
in the soil.
I don't know who put it in or who brought it. ?However,
since it was put in, it compensated for the loss of Chinese ?tea and
boiled water, and also as a reward for the interruption of the ?handle
and spout.
The roots of flowers lie in the earth, in my body, and become
my heart, a living heart - something I have never had before.
I now
have life, strength and spirit. The pulse jumped up, the roots sprouted,
and they had thoughts and feelings.
It blossoms into flowers. I see it,
I support it, I forget myself in its beauty. Forget yourself for others
- it's a happy thing! It did not thank me; it did not think of me;
it
was admired and praised by people. I'm very happy; it must be so happy,
too.
One day I heard someone say that it should have a better pot to
match it. So people beat me around the waist; I was really in pain at
that time! But the flowers moved into a better pot.
As for me? I
was thrown into the yard. I lay there like a pile of fragments - but my
memory is still there and I can't forget it.
After a series of
good deeds, the teapot was thrown into the yard. I lay there like a pile
of fragments - but my memory is still there and I can't forget it. But
what's the use of this solitary admiration?
中文版：
茶壺
從前有一個驕傲的茶壺，它對它的瓷感到驕傲，對它的長嘴感到驕傲，對它的那個大把手也感到驕傲。它的前面和后邊都有點(diǎn)什么東西！前面是一個壺嘴，后面是一個把手，它老是談著這些東西?？墒撬徽勊纳w子。
原來蓋子早就打碎了，是后來釘好的；所以它算是有一個缺點(diǎn)，而人們是不喜歡談自己的缺點(diǎn)的――當(dāng)然別的人會談的。
杯子、奶油罐和糖缽――這整套吃茶的用具――都把茶壺蓋的弱點(diǎn)記得清清楚楚。談它的時候比談那個完好的把手和漂亮的壺嘴的時候多。茶壺知道這一點(diǎn)。
我知道它們！它自己在心里說，“我也知道我的缺點(diǎn)，而且我也承認(rèn)。這足以表現(xiàn)我的謙虛，我的樸素。我們大家都有缺點(diǎn)；
但是我們也有優(yōu)點(diǎn)。杯子有一個把手，糖缽有一個蓋子。我兩樣都有，而且還有他們所沒有的一件東西。
我有一個壺嘴；這使我成為茶桌上的皇后。糖缽和奶油罐受到任命，成為甜味的仆人，而我就是任命者――大家的主宰。我把幸福分散給那些干渴的人群。在我的身體里面，中國的茶葉在那毫無味道的開水中放出香氣?！?/p>
這番話是茶壺在它大無畏的青年時代說的。它立在鋪好臺布的茶桌上，一只非常白嫩的手揭開它的蓋子。
不過這只非常白嫩的手是很笨的，茶壺落下去了，壺嘴跌斷了，把手?jǐn)嗔蚜?，那個壺蓋也不必再談，因?yàn)殛P(guān)于他的話已經(jīng)講得不少了。
茶壺躺在地上昏過去了；開水淌得一地。這對它說來是一個嚴(yán)重的打擊，而最糟糕的是大家都笑它。大家只是笑它，而不笑那只笨拙的手。
這次經(jīng)歷我永遠(yuǎn)忘記不了！茶壺后來檢查自己一生的事業(yè)時說?！叭藗儼盐医凶鲆粋€病人，放在一個角落里；過了一天，人們又把我送給一個討剩飯吃的女人。
我下降為貧民了；里里外外，我一句話都不講。不過，正在這時候，我的生活開始好轉(zhuǎn)。
真是塞翁失馬，焉知非福。我身體里裝進(jìn)了土；對于一個茶壺說來，這完全是等于入葬。但是土里卻埋進(jìn)了一個花根。誰放進(jìn)去的，誰拿來的，我都不知道。
不過它既然放進(jìn)去了，總算是彌補(bǔ)了中國茶葉和開水的這種損失，也算是作為把手和壺嘴打斷的一種報酬。
花根躺在土里，躺在我的身體里，成了我的一顆心，一顆活著的心――這樣的東西我從來還不曾有過。我現(xiàn)在有了生命、力量和精神。脈搏跳起來了，花根發(fā)了芽，有了思想和感覺。它開放成為花朵。
我看到它，我支持它，我在它的美中忘記了自己。為了別人而忘我――這是一樁幸福的事情！它沒有感謝我；它沒有想到我；它受到人們的崇拜和稱贊。
我感到非常高興；它一定也會是多么高興??！有一天我聽到一個人說它應(yīng)該有一個更好的花盆來配它才對。
因此人們把我當(dāng)腰打了一下；那時我真是痛得厲害！不過花兒卻遷進(jìn)一個更好的花盆里去了。
至于我呢？我被扔到院子里去了。我躺在那兒簡直像一堆殘破的碎片――但是我的記憶還在，我忘記不了它。”
擴(kuò)展資料：
安徒生童話
創(chuàng)作背景：
In Andersen's time, Denmark was still a monarchy society. Since the Middle Ages, social life has been rarely touched.
After the nineteenth century, there were a series of major historical changes, such as the loss of national power caused by the Napoleonic War.
the failure on the Norwegian issue, the economic recession in the 1920s, the change of the king's position from royalty to dictatorship.
the cautious and indiscriminate middle class, which made society basically in a state of political oppression and cultural ignorance.
In Andersen's works, we also feel the gray and depression of this era everywhere.
Andersen created fairy tales as a modern way of expression. He used the children perspective of fairy tales to perspective the complex life of modern people.
Andersen made fairy tales transcend the legendary imagination of folk literature and become a distinct individual writing and modern skill exploration.
中文版:
在安徒生所處的時代，丹麥仍是一個君主專制主義社會，自中古以降，社會生活一直極少受到觸動。
進(jìn)入十九世紀(jì)以后，則出現(xiàn)一系列重大歷史變動，拿破侖戰(zhàn)爭造成的國力虛耗，在挪威問題上的失敗。
20年代的經(jīng)濟(jì)轟退，國王由?；柿鲛D(zhuǎn)向獨(dú)裁，中產(chǎn)階級謹(jǐn)小慎微、委曲求全，這些都使社會基本處于政治壓迫和文化愚昧狀態(tài)。
在安徒生的作品中，我們也處處感到這個時代的灰色和壓抑。
安徒生將童話作為一種現(xiàn)代表達(dá)方式來進(jìn)行創(chuàng)作，他借用童話的“兒童”視角透視現(xiàn)代人的復(fù)雜生活。
安徒生讓童話超越了民間文學(xué)范疇的傳奇想象，成為一種鮮明的個體寫作和現(xiàn)代技巧探索。
參考資料來源：百度百科-安徒生童話
THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL賣火柴的小女孩
From:
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 fomp3ed 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 wamp3 her fingers by it. She drew one out. Rischt!
how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a wamp3, 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 wamp3ed so delightfully. The little girl had already
stretched out her feet to wamp3 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 fomp3ed 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 wamp3 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 fomp3erly had the grandmother been
so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her amp3, 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 wamp3 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.
From: