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Lumikuningatar / The Snow Queen — ĐœĐ° Ń„Ń–ĐœŃĐșĐ°Đč і Đ°ĐœĐłĐ»Ń–ĐčсĐșĐ°Đč ĐŒĐŸĐČах

Đ€Ń–ĐœŃĐșĐ°-Đ°ĐœĐłĐ»Ń–ĐčсĐșая ĐșĐœŃ–ĐłĐ°-Đ±Ń–Đ»Ń–ĐœĐłĐČĐ°

Hans Christian Andersen

Lumikuningatar

Hans Christian Andersen

The Snow Queen

Translator: Maila Talvio. From The Project Gutenberg. Seitsentarinainen satu. Vilhelm Pedersenin kuvituksella.

Translated by Mrs. H. B. Paull. With illustrations of Vilhelm Pedersen

EnsimÀinen tarina kertoo peilistÀ ja sirpaleista

Story the First, Which Describes a Looking-Glass and the Broken Fragments

Kas niin, nyt me alamme. Kun olemme pÀÀsseet tarinan loppuun, tiedĂ€mme enemmĂ€n kuin me nyt tiedĂ€mme, sillĂ€ oli paha peikko — se oli kaikkein pahimpia peikkoja, se oli ”Perkele”.

You must attend to the commencement of this story, for when we get to the end we shall know more than we do now about a very wicked hobgoblin; he was one of the very worst, for he was a real demon.

ErÀÀnÀ pÀivÀnÀ oli hÀn oikein hyvÀllÀ tuulella, sillÀ hÀn oli tehnyt peilin, jolla oli se ominaisuus, ettÀ kaikki hyvÀ ja kaunis, mikÀ siihen kuvastui, hÀvisi siinÀ miltei olemattomiin, mutta mikÀ oli kelvotonta ja nÀytti rumalta, se astui esiin ja kÀvi vielÀkin pahemmaksi.

One day, when he was in a merry mood, he made a looking-glass which had the power of making everything good or beautiful that was reflected in it almost shrink to nothing, while everything that was worthless and bad looked increased in size and worse than ever.

Kauneimmat maisemat olivat siinÀ keitetyn pinaatin nÀköiset ja parhaimmat ihmiset kÀvivÀt inhoittaviksi tai seisoivat pÀÀllÀÀn, ilman vatsaa. Kasvot vÀÀntyivÀt niin, ettei niitÀ tuntenut ja jos ihmisessÀ oli kesakko, sai olla varma siitÀ, ettÀ se levisi nenÀn ja suun yli.

The most lovely landscapes appeared like boiled spinach, and the people became hideous, and looked as if they stood on their heads and had no bodies. Their countenances were so distorted that no one could recognize them, and even one freckle on the face appeared to spread over the whole of the nose and mouth.

Se oli erinomaisen huvittavaa, sanoi ”Perkele”. Jos hyvĂ€ harras ajatus kĂ€vi lĂ€pi ihmisen mielen, tuli peiliin sellainen irvistys, ettĂ€ peikkoperkeleen piti nauraa taitavaa keksintöÀÀn.

The demon said this was very amusing. When a good or pious thought passed through the mind of any one it was misrepresented in the glass; and then how the demon laughed at his cunning invention.

Kaikki ne, jotka kĂ€vivĂ€t peikkokoulua — sillĂ€ hĂ€n piti peikkokoulua — kertoivat laajalti, ettĂ€ oli tapahtunut ihme. Vasta nyt, arvelivat he, saattoi oikein nĂ€hdĂ€, miltĂ€ maailma ja ihmiset nĂ€yttĂ€vĂ€t.

All who went to the demon’s school—for he kept a school—talked everywhere of the wonders they had seen, and declared that people could now, for the first time, see what the world and mankind were really like.

He juoksuttivat peiliÀ ympÀri maailman ja vihdoin ei ollut yhtÀÀn maata eikÀ ihmistÀ, joka ei olisi siinÀ vÀÀristetty.

They carried the glass about everywhere, till at last there was not a land nor a people who had not been looked at through this distorted mirror.

Nyt tahtoivat he myöskin lentÀÀ ylös taivasta kohti, tehdĂ€kseen pilkkaa itse enkeleistĂ€kin ja ”Jumalasta”. Kuta korkeammalle he peiliĂ€ lennĂ€ttivĂ€t, sitĂ€ voimakkaammin se nauroi, tuskin he voivat pitÀÀ siitĂ€ kiinni. YhĂ€ korkeammalle ja korkeammalle he lensivĂ€t, likemmĂ€ Jumalaa ja enkeleitĂ€.

They wanted even to fly with it up to heaven to see the angels, but the higher they flew the more slippery the glass became, and they could scarcely hold it, till at last it slipped from their hands, fell to the earth, and was broken into millions of pieces.

Silloin vÀrisi peili nauraessaan niin hirvittÀvÀsti, ettÀ se karkasi niiden kÀsistÀ ja syöksyi alas maahan, missÀ se meni sadaksi miljoonaksi, biljoonaksi ja vielÀ useammaksi kappaleeksi, ja nyt se tuotti paljoa suurempaa onnettomuutta kuin ennen.

But now the looking-glass caused more unhappiness than ever, for some of the fragments were not so large as a grain of sand, and they flew about the world into every country.

SillÀ muutamat kappaleet olivat tuskin hiekkajyvÀsten kokoiset ja nÀmÀ lensivÀt ympÀri maailmaa, ja missÀ ne sattuivat ihmisten silmiin, siellÀ ne pysÀhtyivÀt sinne ja silloin nÀkivÀt nuo ihmiset kaikki vÀÀristettynÀ ja heillÀ oli silmÀÀ nÀhdÀ vain se, mikÀ jossakin asiassa oli nurjaa, sillÀ jokainen pieni peilinsÀrö oli sÀilyttÀnyt saman voiman, mikÀ koko peilillÀ oli.

When one of these tiny atoms flew into a person’s eye, it stuck there unknown to him, and from that moment he saw everything through a distorted medium, or could see only the worst side of what he looked at, for even the smallest fragment retained the same power which had belonged to the whole mirror.

Muutamat ihmiset saivat vielÀ sydÀmeensÀ pienen pellinpalasen ja se oli varsin kauheaa, siitÀ sydÀmestÀ tuli kuin jÀÀkimpale.

Some few persons even got a fragment of the looking-glass in their hearts, and this was very terrible, for their hearts became cold like a lump of ice.

Muutamat peilinkappaleet olivat niin suuret, ettÀ ne kÀytettiin ikkunalaseiksi, mutta sen ruudun lÀpi ei ollut hyvÀ katsella ystÀviÀÀn.

A few of the pieces were so large that they could be used as window-panes; it would have been a sad thing to look at our friends through them.

Muutamat palaset joutuivat silmÀlaseihin, ja huonosti kÀvi, kun ihmiset panivat ne nenÀlleen oikein nÀhdÀkseen ja ollakseen oikeamieliset. Paholainen nauroi niin, ettÀ hÀnen vatsansa repesi ja se kutkutti hÀntÀ niin suloisesti.

Other pieces were made into spectacles; this was dreadful for those who wore them, for they could see nothing either rightly or justly. At all this the wicked demon laughed till his sides shook—it tickled him so to see the mischief he had done.

Mutta ulkona lenteli vielÀ ilmassa pieniÀ lasisirpaleita. Nyt me saamme kuulla!

There were still a number of these little fragments of glass floating about in the air, and now you shall hear what happened with one of them.

Toinen tarina. Pieni poika ja pieni tyttö

Second Story: A Little Boy and a Little Girl

Suuressa kaupungissa, missĂ€ on niin monta taloa ja ihmistĂ€, ettei jÀÀ tarpeeksi tilaa jokaisen saada pientĂ€ puutarhaa ja missĂ€ sentĂ€hden useimpien tĂ€ytyy tyytyĂ€ kukkasiin kukkaruukuissa — siellĂ€ oli kuitenkin kaksi köyhÀÀ lasta, joilla oli jonkun verran suurempi puutarha kuin kukkaruukku.

In a large town, full of houses and people, there is not room for everybody to have even a little garden, therefore they are obliged to be satisfied with a few flowers in flower-pots. In one of these large towns lived two poor children who had a garden something larger and better than a few flower-pots.

He eivÀt olleet veli ja sisar, mutta he pitivÀt yhtÀ paljon toisistaan kuin jos olisivat olleet sitÀ.

They were not brother and sister, but they loved each other almost as much as if they had been.

Vanhemmat asuivat aivan lÀhellÀ toisiaan, he asuivat kahdessa ullakkokamarissa. SiinÀ, missÀ katto toisen naapurin talosta sattui yhteen toisen kanssa ja vesikouru kulki pitkin katonrajaa, siinÀ antoi molemmista taloista ulos pieni ikkuna.

Their parents lived opposite to each other in two garrets, where the roofs of neighboring houses projected out towards each other and the water-pipe ran between them.

Ei tarvinnut muuta kuin asettua hajareisin kourulle, niin pÀÀsi toisesta ikkunasta toiseen.

In each house was a little window, so that any one could step across the gutter from one window to the other.

Molemmat vanhemmat pitivÀt ulkona suurta puulaatikkoa ja siinÀ kasvoi kyökkikasveja, joita he tarvitsivat, ja pieni ruusupuu. Kummassakin laatikossa oli yksi, se kasvoi niin kauniisti.

The parents of these children had each a large wooden box in which they cultivated kitchen herbs for their own use, and a little rose-bush in each box, which grew splendidly.

Nyt keksivÀt vanhemmat asettaa laatikot sillÀ tavalla poikkipÀin yli kourun, ettÀ ne miltei ulottuivat toisesta ikkunasta toiseen ja aivan muistuttivat kahta kukkalavaa.

Now after a while the parents decided to place these two boxes across the water-pipe, so that they reached from one window to the other and looked like two banks of flowers.

Herneenvarret riippuivat alas laatikkojen yli ja ruusupuut kasvoivat pitkiÀ oksia, kietoutuivat ikkunoiden ympÀri, kumartuivat toisiaan vastaan: siinÀ oli miltei kuin vihannasta ja kukkasista tehty kunniaportti.

Sweet-peas drooped over the boxes, and the rose-bushes shot forth long branches, which were trained round the windows and clustered together almost like a triumphal arch of leaves and flowers.

Kun laatikot olivat hyvin korkeat ja lapset tiesivÀt, etteivÀt he saaneet nousta niille, niin saivat he usein luvan astua ulos toistensa luo, istua pienillÀ jakkaroillaan ruusujen alla, ja siellÀ he nyt hauskasti leikkivÀt.

The boxes were very high, and the children knew they must not climb upon them, without permission, but they were often, however, allowed to step out together and sit upon their little stools under the rose-bushes, or play quietly.

Talvellahan se ilo oli ohi. Ikkunat olivat usein aivan jÀÀssÀ, mutta sitten he lÀmmittivÀt kuparirahoja uunissa, asettivat kuuman rahan jÀÀtyneelle ruudulle ja niin tuli siitÀ oivallinen tirkistysreikÀ, ihan pyöreÀ, ihan pyöreÀ. Sen takaa katseli suloinen lempeÀ silmÀ, yksi kummastakin ikkunasta. Ne olivat pieni poika ja pieni tyttö.

In winter all this pleasure came to an end, for the windows were sometimes quite frozen over. But then they would warm copper pennies on the stove, and hold the warm pennies against the frozen pane; there would be very soon a little round hole through which they could peep, and the soft bright eyes of the little boy and girl would beam through the hole at each window as they looked at each other.

Pojan nimi oli Kai ja tytön nimi Gerda.

Their names were Kay and Gerda.

KesÀllÀ saattoivat he yhdellÀ hyppÀyksellÀ pÀÀstÀ toistensa luo, talvella tÀytyi heidÀn ensin kulkea monet portaat alas ja monet portaat ylös. Ulkona tuiskutti lunta.

In summer they could be together with one jump from the window, but in winter they had to go up and down the long staircase, and out through the snow before they could meet.

— Valkeat mehilĂ€iset parveilevat, sanoi vanha isoĂ€iti.

“See there are the white bees swarming,” said Kay’s old grandmother one day when it was snowing.

— Onko niillĂ€ myöskin mehilĂ€iskuningatar? kysyi pieni poika, sillĂ€ hĂ€n tiesi, ettĂ€ oikeiden mehilĂ€isten joukossa on sellainen.

“Have they a queen bee?” asked the little boy, for he knew that the real bees had a queen.

— On niillĂ€, sanoi isoĂ€iti. — HĂ€n lentÀÀ siellĂ€, missĂ€ ne parveilevat sakeimmillaan. HĂ€n on suurin heistĂ€ kaikista eikĂ€ hĂ€n koskaan pysĂ€hdy maahan, hĂ€n lentÀÀ takaisin ylös mustaan pilveen. Monena talviyönĂ€ lentÀÀ hĂ€n lĂ€pi kaupungin katujen ja kurkistaa sisÀÀn ikkunoista, ja silloin ne jÀÀtyvĂ€t niin kummallisiksi, ikÀÀnkuin niissĂ€ olisi kukkasia.

“To be sure they have,” said the grandmother. “She is flying there where the swarm is thickest. She is the largest of them all, and never remains on the earth, but flies up to the dark clouds. Often at midnight she flies through the streets of the town, and looks in at the windows, then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderful shapes, that look like flowers and castles.”

— Niin, sen minĂ€ olen nĂ€hnyt, sanoivat molemmat lapset ja sitten he tiesivĂ€t, ettĂ€ se oli totta.

“Yes, I have seen them,” said both the children, and they knew it must be true.

— Saako lumikuningatar tulla tĂ€nne sisÀÀn? kysyi pieni tyttö.

“Can the Snow Queen come in here?” asked the little girl.

— Tulkoon vain, sanoi poika, — niin minĂ€ panen hĂ€net lĂ€mpöiselle kaakeliuunille ja sitten hĂ€n sulaa.

“Only let her come,” said the boy, “I’ll set her on the stove and then she’ll melt.”

Mutta isoÀiti silitti hÀnen hiuksiaan ja kertoi toisia tarinoita.

Then the grandmother smoothed his hair and told him some more tales.

Illalla, kun pieni Kai oli kotona ja puoleksi riisuttuna, nousi hÀn tuolille ikkunan luona ja katseli ulos pienestÀ reiÀstÀ. Pari lumihiutaletta putosi siellÀ ulkona ja yksi nÀistÀ, kaikkein suurin, jÀi toisen kukkalaatikon laidalle. Lumihiutale kasvoi kasvamistaan, vihdoin siitÀ tuli kokonainen nainen, puettuna hienoimpaan valkoiseen harsoon, joka oli kuin kokoonpantu miljoonista tÀhdentapaisista untuvista.

One evening, when little Kay was at home, half undressed, he climbed on a chair by the window and peeped out through the little hole. A few flakes of snow were falling, and one of them, rather larger than the rest, alighted on the edge of one of the flower boxes. This snow-flake grew larger and larger, till at last it became the figure of a woman, dressed in garments of white gauze, which looked like millions of starry snow-flakes linked together.

HÀn oli kovin kaunis ja hieno, mutta jÀÀstÀ, hÀikÀisevÀstÀ, kimmeltÀvÀstÀ jÀÀstÀ. Kuitenkin oli hÀn elÀvÀ. SilmÀt tuijottivat kuin kaksi kirkasta tÀhteÀ, mutta niissÀ ei ollut mitÀÀn rauhaa tai lepoa.

She was fair and beautiful, but made of ice—shining and glittering ice. Still she was alive and her eyes sparkled like bright stars, but there was neither peace nor rest in their glance.

HÀn nyökkÀsi ikkunaan pÀin ja viittasi kÀdellÀÀn. Pieni poika pelÀstyi ja hyppÀsi alas tuolilta. Silloin tuntui siltÀ, kuin suuri lintu olisi ulkopuolella lentÀnyt ikkunan ohitse.

She nodded towards the window and waved her hand. The little boy was frightened and sprang from the chair; at the same moment it seemed as if a large bird flew by the window.

Seuraavana pĂ€ivĂ€nĂ€ tuli kirkas pakkanen — ja sitten tuli suoja ja sitten tuli kevĂ€t. Aurinko paistoi, vihanta pilkisti esiin, pÀÀskyset tekivĂ€t pesÀÀ, ikkunat avattiin ja pienet lapset istuivat taas pienessĂ€ puutarhassaan korkealla katonrĂ€ystÀÀllĂ€ kaikkien kerrosten pÀÀllĂ€.

On the following day there was a clear frost, and very soon came the spring. The sun shone; the young green leaves burst forth; the swallows built their nests; windows were opened, and the children sat once more in the garden on the roof, high above all the other rooms.

Ruusut kukkivat sinÀ kesÀnÀ aivan erinomaisesti. Pieni tyttö oli oppinut virren ja siinÀ luettiin ruusuista ja niitÀ ruusuja ajatellessa ajatteli hÀn omiaan. Ja hÀn lauloi sen pienelle pojalle, ja poika lauloi sen niinikÀÀn:

How beautiful the roses blossomed this summer. The little girl had learnt a hymn in which roses were spoken of, and then she thought of their own roses, and she sang the hymn to the little boy, and he sang too:—

Ruusuja laaksossa hohtaa,
rakas Jeesus siell’ lapset kohtaa.

“Roses bloom and cease to be,
But we shall the Christ-child see.”

Ja pienokaiset pitelivÀt toisiaan kÀdestÀ, suutelivat ruusuja ja katselivat Jumalan kirkkaaseen auringonpaisteeseen ja puhelivat sille, ikÀÀnkuin Jeesuslapsi olisi ollut siinÀ.

Then the little ones held each other by the hand, and kissed the roses, and looked at the bright sunshine, and spoke to it as if the Christ-child were there.

Ihania suvipÀiviÀ ne olivat, suloista oli olla ulkona raikkaiden ruusupuiden luona, jotka eivÀt koskaan nÀyttÀneet aikovan lakata kukkimasta.

Those were splendid summer days. How beautiful and fresh it was out among the rose-bushes, which seemed as if they would never leave off blooming.

Kai ja Gerda istuivat ja katselivat kuvakirjaa, jossa oli elĂ€imiĂ€ ja lintuja. Silloin — kello löi juuri viisi suuressa kirkontornissa — sanoi Kai: Ai, minun sydĂ€meeni pisti! Ja nyt tuli jotakin silmÀÀni.

One day Kay and Gerda sat looking at a book full of pictures of animals and birds, and then just as the clock in the church tower struck twelve, Kay said, “Oh, something has struck my heart!” and soon after, “There is something in my eye.”

Pieni tyttö tarttui hÀntÀ kaulaan. Kai siristeli silmiÀÀn: ei, ei mitÀÀn voinut nÀhdÀ.

The little girl put her arm round his neck, and looked into his eye, but she could see nothing.

— MinĂ€ luulen, ettĂ€ se on poissa! sanoi hĂ€n. Mutta se ei ollut poissa.

“I think it is gone,” he said. But it was not gone;

Se oli juuri yksi noita lasisirpaleita, jotka lensivĂ€t peilistĂ€, taikapeilistĂ€ — me kyllĂ€ muistamme tuon ilkeĂ€n lasin, joka teki, ettĂ€ kaikki suuri ja hyvĂ€, joka kuvastui siinĂ€, kĂ€vi pieneksi ja rumaksi, mutta paha ja huono astui oikein esiin ja jokainen vika kĂ€vi heti huomattavaksi.

it was one of those bits of the looking-glass—that magic mirror, of which we have spoken—the ugly glass which made everything great and good appear small and ugly, while all that was wicked and bad became more visible, and every little fault could be plainly seen.

Kai raukka, hÀn oli saanut sirpaleen myöskin suoraan sydÀmeensÀ. Pian se oli kÀyvÀ ikÀÀnkuin jÀÀmöhkÀleeksi.

Poor little Kay had also received a small grain in his heart, which very quickly turned to a lump of ice.

Nyt ei enÀÀ tehnyt kipeÀÀ, mutta siellÀ se oli.

He felt no more pain, but the glass was there still.

— Miksi sinĂ€ itket? kysyi hĂ€n. — Silloin sinĂ€ olet ruman nĂ€köinen.
EihĂ€n minua mikÀÀn vaivaa. Hyi! huusi hĂ€n samassa, — tuo ruusu tuossa on madon syömĂ€! Ja kas, tuo tuossahan on aivan viisto! Ne ovat todella ilkeitĂ€ ruusuja. Muistuttavat ihan laatikoita, joissa kasvavat. Ja sitten hĂ€n jalallaan lujasti tönĂ€isi laatikkoa ja repĂ€isi pois molemmat ruusut.

“Why do you cry?” said he at last; “it makes you look ugly. There is nothing the matter with me now. Oh, see!” he cried suddenly, “that rose is worm-eaten, and this one is quite crooked. After all they are ugly roses, just like the box in which they stand,” and then he kicked the boxes with his foot, and pulled off the two roses.

— Kai, mitĂ€ sinĂ€ teet! huusi pieni tyttö, ja kun hĂ€n nĂ€ki hĂ€nen kauhunsa, repi hĂ€n irti vielĂ€ yhden ruusun ja juoksi sitten sisÀÀn omasta ikkunastaan, pois herttaisen pienen Gerdan luota.

“Kay, what are you doing?” cried the little girl; and then, when he saw how frightened she was, he tore off another rose, and jumped through his own window away from little Gerda.

Kun Gerda sitten tuli ja toi kuvakirjan, sanoi hĂ€n, ettĂ€ se oli sylilapsia varten. Ja jos isoĂ€iti kertoi satuja, niin pani hĂ€n aina joukkoon ”mutta” — niin, jos hĂ€n vain saattoi pÀÀstĂ€ likettyville, niin kulki hĂ€n hĂ€nen perĂ€ssÀÀn, pani silmĂ€lasit nenĂ€lleen ja puhui niinkuin hĂ€n. Se oli aivan kuin olisi ollut isoĂ€iti, ja sitten ihmiset nauroivat hĂ€ntĂ€.

When she afterwards brought out the picture book, he said, “It was only fit for babies in long clothes,” and when grandmother told any stories, he would interrupt her with “but;”. Or, when he could manage it, he would get behind her chair, put on a pair of spectacles, and imitate her very cleverly, to make people laugh.

Pian hÀn osasi matkia kaikkien ihmisten puhetta ja kÀyntiÀ koko sillÀ kadulla.

By-and-by he began to mimic the speech and gait of persons in the street.

Kaikkea, mikÀ heissÀ oli erikoista eikÀ kaunista, sitÀ osasi Kai jÀljitellÀ, ja sitten sanoivat ihmiset: sillÀ pojalla on varmaan erinomainen pÀÀ! Mutta se johtui siitÀ lasisirpaleesta, jonka hÀn oli saanut silmÀÀnsÀ, siitÀ lasisirpaleesta, joka oli sydÀmessÀ. SentÀhden kiusasi hÀn pientÀ Gerdaakin, joka koko sielustaan piti hÀnestÀ.

All that was peculiar or disagreeable in a person he would imitate directly, and people said, “That boy will be very clever; he has a remarkable genius.” But it was the piece of glass in his eye, and the coldness in his heart, that made him act like this. He would even tease little Gerda, who loved him with all her heart.

HÀnen leikkinsÀ kÀvivÀt nyt aivan toisenlaisiksi kuin ennen, ne olivat niin jÀrkevÀt. ErÀÀnÀkin talvipÀivÀnÀ, kun lumihiutaleita tuprutti, tuli hÀn, kÀdessÀÀn suuri polttolasi, piteli levÀllÀÀn sinistÀ takinlievettÀÀn ja antoi lumihiutaleiden pudota sille.

His games, too, were quite different; they were not so childish. One winter’s day, when it snowed, he brought out a burning-glass, then he held out the tail of his blue coat, and let the snow-flakes fall upon it.

— Katso nyt lasiin, Gerda, sanoi hĂ€n ja jokainen lumihiutale tuli paljon suuremmaksi ja oli komean kukan tai kymmensĂ€rmĂ€isen tĂ€hden nĂ€köinen. Se oli kaunista katsella.

“Look in this glass, Gerda,” said he; and she saw how every flake of snow was magnified, and looked like a beautiful flower or a glittering star.

— NĂ€etkö, kuinka taidokasta! sanoi Kai. — Se on paljon mielenkiintoisempaa kuin oikeat kukkaset. EikĂ€ niissĂ€ ole ainoaakaan virhettĂ€, ne ovat aivan sÀÀnnölliset, kunhan vain eivĂ€t sula!

“Is it not clever?” said Kay, “and much more interesting than looking at real flowers. There is not a single fault in it, and the snow-flakes are quite perfect till they begin to melt.”

VĂ€hĂ€n myöhemmin tuli Kai, kĂ€dessĂ€ suuret kintaat ja kelkka selĂ€ssĂ€. HĂ€n huusi aivan Gerdan korvaan: — MinĂ€ olen saanut luvan laskettaa suurella torilla, missĂ€ muut leikkivĂ€t! Ja sen tiensĂ€ hĂ€n meni.

Soon after Kay made his appearance in large thick gloves, and with his sledge at his back. He called up stairs to Gerda, “I’ve got to leave to go into the great square, where the other boys play and ride.” And away he went.

Torilla köyttivÀt usein rohkeat pojat kelkkansa talonpojan rattaihin ja ajoivat hyvÀn matkaa mukana. Hauskasti se meni.

In the great square, the boldest among the boys would often tie their sledges to the country people’s carts, and go with them a good way. This was capital.

HeidÀn paraikaa leikkiessÀÀn tuli reki. Se oli maalattu aivan valkoiseksi ja siinÀ istui joku kÀÀriytyneenÀ karvaiseen valkoiseen turkkiin ja pÀÀssÀ valkoinen karvalakki. Reki kiersi torin kahteen kertaan ja Kai sai nopeasti köytetyksi kelkkansa siihen kiinni, ja nyt hÀn ajoi mukana.

But while they were all amusing themselves, and Kay with them, a great sledge came by; it was painted white, and in it sat some one wrapped in a rough white fur, and wearing a white cap. The sledge drove twice round the square, and Kay fastened his own little sledge to it, so that when it went away, he followed with it.

Kulku kÀvi nopeammin ja nopeammin suoraan seuraavalle kadulle. Se, joka ajoi, kÀÀnsi pÀÀtÀÀn, nyökkÀsi ystÀvÀllisesti Kaille, tuntui siltÀ, kuin he olisivat tunteneet toisensa. Joka kerta kun Kai aikoi irroittaa kelkkansa, nyökkÀsi tuo henkilö taas ja niin Kai jÀi istumaan. He ajoivat suoraan ulos kaupungin portista.

It went faster and faster right through the next street, and then the person who drove turned round and nodded pleasantly to Kay, just as if they were acquainted with each other, but whenever Kay wished to loosen his little sledge the driver nodded again, so Kay sat still, and they drove out through the town gate.

Nyt alkoi lunta tulla niin vyörymÀllÀ, ettei pieni poika voinut nÀhdÀ kÀden mittaa eteensÀ, kiitÀessÀÀn eteenpÀin. Silloin pÀÀsti hÀn nopeasti irti nuoran, pÀÀstÀkseen eroon reestÀ, mutta se ei auttanut, hÀnen pienet ajoneuvonsa riippuivat siinÀ kiinni ja mentiin tuulen vauhdilla.

Then the snow began to fall so heavily that the little boy could not see a hand’s breadth before him, but still they drove on; then he suddenly loosened the cord so that the large sled might go on without him, but it was of no use, his little carriage held fast, and away they went like the wind.

Silloin huusi hÀn aivan ÀÀneen, mutta kukaan ei kuullut hÀntÀ ja lumi pyrysi ja reki lensi eteenpÀin. VÀlistÀ se pomppasi ilmaan, tuntui siltÀ, kuin se olisi kiitÀnyt yli ojien ja aitojen.

Then he called out loudly, but nobody heard him, while the snow beat upon him, and the sledge flew onwards. Every now and then it gave a jump as if it were going over hedges and ditches.

HĂ€n oli aivan pelĂ€styksissÀÀn, hĂ€n olisi tahtonut lukea ”isĂ€meitĂ€nsĂ€â€, mutta hĂ€n ei muistanut muuta kuin ”ison kertomataulun”.

The boy was frightened, and tried to say a prayer, but he could remember nothing but the multiplication table.

Lumihiutaleet kÀvivÀt suuremmiksi ja suuremmiksi. Vihdoin olivat ne kuin suuria valkoisia kanoja. YhtÀkkiÀ singahtivat ne syrjÀÀn, reki pysÀhtyi ja se henkilö, joka ajoi, nousi. Turkki ja lakki olivat paljasta lunta. Nainen se oli, pitkÀ ja solakka, hÀikÀisevÀn valkoinen, se oli lumikuningatar.

The snow-flakes became larger and larger, till they appeared like great white chickens. All at once they sprang on one side, the great sledge stopped, and the person who had driven it rose up. The fur and the cap, which were made entirely of snow, fell off, and he saw a lady, tall and white, it was the Snow Queen.

— MeidĂ€n matkamme on kulunut onnellisesti, sanoi hĂ€n, — mutta kuinka noin palelet? Hiivi minun karhunnahkaturkkiini! Ja hĂ€n asetti hĂ€net rekeen viereensĂ€, kiersi turkin hĂ€nen ympĂ€rilleen, tuntui siltĂ€, kuin hĂ€n olisi vaipunut lumihankeen.

“We have driven well,” said she, “but why do you tremble? here, creep into my warm fur.” Then she seated him beside her in the sledge, and as she wrapped the fur round him he felt as if he were sinking into a snow drift.

— VielĂ€kö sinua palelee? kysyi hĂ€n ja sitten hĂ€n suuteli hĂ€ntĂ€ otsalle.

“Are you still cold,” she asked, as she kissed him on the forehead.

Hui, se oli kylmempÀÀ kuin jÀÀ, se meni suoraan hÀnen sydÀmeensÀ, joka jo puoleksi oli jÀÀkimpale. Tuntui siltÀ, kuin hÀn olisi ollut kuolemaisillaan. Mutta vain hetken, sitten tuntui oikein hyvÀltÀ. HÀn ei enÀÀn huomannut pakkasta ympÀrillÀÀn.

The kiss was colder than ice; it went quite through to his heart, which was already almost a lump of ice; he felt as if he were going to die, but only for a moment; he soon seemed quite well again, and did not notice the cold around him.

— Kelkkani! Ă€lkÀÀ unohtako kelkkaani! Sen hĂ€n ensinnĂ€ muisti. Ja kelkka sidottiin erÀÀn valkoisen kanan kannettavaksi ja se lensi perĂ€ssĂ€, kelkka selĂ€ssĂ€.

“My sledge! don’t forget my sledge,” was his first thought, and then he looked and saw that it was bound fast to one of the white chickens, which flew behind him with the sledge at its back.

Lumikuningatar suuteli Kaita vielÀ kerran ja silloin hÀn oli unohtanut pienen Gerdan, isoÀidin ja kaikki siellÀ kotona.

The Snow Queen kissed little Kay again, and by this time he had forgotten little Gerda, his grandmother, and all at home.

— Nyt et saa useampia suudelmia, sanoi lumikuningatar, — sillĂ€ silloin suutelisin sinut kuoliaaksi!

“Now you must have no more kisses,” she said, “or I should kiss you to death.”

Kai katsoi hÀneen, hÀn oli hyvin kaunis. Viisaampia, kauniimpia kasvoja ei saattanut ajatella. Nyt ei hÀn tuntunut olevan jÀÀtÀ niinkuin silloin, kun hÀn istui ikkunan takana ja viittasi hÀnelle.

Kay looked at her, and saw that she was so beautiful, he could not imagine a more lovely and intelligent face; she did not now seem to be made of ice, as when he had seen her through his window, and she had nodded to him.

HĂ€nen silmissÀÀn hĂ€n oli tĂ€ydellinen, hĂ€n ei ensinkÀÀn pelĂ€nnyt, hĂ€n kertoi hĂ€nelle, ettĂ€ hĂ€n osasi pÀÀssĂ€laskua, pÀÀssĂ€laskua murtoluvuillakin, ettĂ€ hĂ€n tiesi maiden neliöpenikulmat ja ”kuinka monta asukasta”, ja lumikuningatar hymyili kaiken aikaa. Silloin tuntui Kaista, ettei se, mitĂ€ hĂ€n tiesi, kuitenkaan riittĂ€nyt, ja hĂ€n katsoi ylös suureen, suureen tyhjyyteen ja lumikuningatar lensi hĂ€nen kanssaan, lensi korkealle ylös mustalle pilvelle ja myrsky humisi ja kohisi, tuntui siltĂ€, kuin se olisi laulanut vanhoja lauluja. He lensivĂ€t yli metsien ja jĂ€rvien, yli merten ja maiden.

In his eyes she was perfect, and he did not feel at all afraid. He told her he could do mental arithmetic, as far as fractions, and that he knew the number of square miles and the number of inhabitants in the country. And she always smiled so that he thought he did not know enough yet, and she looked round the vast expanse as she flew higher and higher with him upon a black cloud, while the storm blew and howled as if it were singing old songs.

Alla humisi kylmÀ tuuli, sudet ulvoivat, lumi sÀihkyili, sen yli lensivÀt suuret, kirkuvat varikset, mutta ylÀpuolella paistoi kuu suurena ja kirkkaana ja siihen katseli Kai pitkÀn, pitkÀn talviyön. PÀivÀn nukkui hÀn lumikuningattaren jalkain juuressa.

They flew over woods and lakes, over sea and land; below them roared the wild wind; the wolves howled and the snow crackled; over them flew the black screaming crows, and above all shone the moon, clear and bright,—and so Kay passed through the long winter’s night, and by day he slept at the feet of the Snow Queen.

Kolmas tarina. Kukkatarha vaimon luona, joka osasi noitua

Third Story: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure

Mutta mimmoista oli pienellÀ Gerdalla, kun ei Kai enÀÀn tullut?

But how fared little Gerda during Kay’s absence?

MissÀ hÀn mahtoi olla? Ei kukaan tietÀnyt, ei kukaan osannut antaa neuvoja. Pojat kertoivat vain nÀhneensÀ hÀnen sitovan kelkkansa kiinni komeaan rekeen, joka ajoi kadulle ja ulos kaupungin portista.

What had become of him, no one knew, nor could any one give the slightest information, excepting the boys, who said that he had tied his sledge to another very large one, which had driven through the street, and out at the town gate.

Ei kukaan tietÀnyt, missÀ hÀn oli, monta kyyneltÀ vuosi, pieni Gerda itki katkerasti ja kauan. Sitten he sanoivat, ettÀ Kai oli kuollut, hÀn oli vaipunut jokeen, joka virtasi aivan kaupungin likellÀ. Oi, ne olivat oikein pitkiÀ, pimeitÀ talvipÀiviÀ.

Nobody knew where it went; many tears were shed for him, and little Gerda wept bitterly for a long time. She said she knew he must be dead; that he was drowned in the river which flowed close by the school. Oh, indeed those long winter days were very dreary.

Nyt tuli kevÀt ja aurinko paistoi lÀmpöisemmin.

But at last spring came, with warm sunshine.

— Kai on kuollut ja poissa, sanoi pieni Gerda.

“Kay is dead and gone,” said little Gerda.

— SitĂ€ en usko, sanoi auringonpaiste.

“I don’t believe it,” said the sunshine.

— HĂ€n on kuollut ja poissa! sanoi tyttö pÀÀskysille.

“He is dead and gone,” she said to the sparrows.

— SitĂ€ en usko! vastasivat ne ja vihdoin ei pieni Gerdakaan sitĂ€ uskonut.

“We don’t believe it,” they replied; and at last little Gerda began to doubt it herself.

— MinĂ€ otan jalkaani uudet punaiset kenkĂ€ni, sanoi hĂ€n erÀÀnĂ€ aamuna, — niitĂ€ ei Kai koskaan ole nĂ€hnyt, ja sitten menen joelle ja kysyn siltĂ€.

“I will put on my new red shoes,” she said one morning, “those that Kay has never seen, and then I will go down to the river, and ask for him.”

Ja oli hyvin varhaista. HÀn suuteli vanhaa isoÀitiÀ, joka nukkui, pani jalkaansa punaiset kengÀt ja lÀksi aivan yksin ulos portista joelle.

It was quite early when she kissed her old grandmother, who was still asleep; then she put on her red shoes, and went quite alone out of the town gates toward the river.

— Onko totta, ettĂ€ sinĂ€ olet ottanut pienen leikkiveljeni? MinĂ€ lahjoitan sinulle punaiset kenkĂ€ni, jos annat hĂ€net minulle takaisin.

“Is it true that you have taken my little playmate away from me?” said she to the river. “I will give you my red shoes if you will give him back to me.”

Ja aallot nyökkÀsivÀt hÀnen mielestÀÀn niin kummallisesti. Silloin hÀn otti punaiset kenkÀnsÀ, rakkaimman omaisuutensa, ja viskasi ne molemmat jokeen, mutta ne putosivat aivan rantaan ja pienet kalat kantoivat ne heti hÀnelle maihin, tuntui siltÀ, kuin ei joki olisi tahtonut ottaa hÀnen rakkainta omaisuuttaan, koska ei sillÀ ollut pientÀ Kaita.

And it seemed as if the waves nodded to her in a strange manner. Then she took off her red shoes, which she liked better than anything else, and threw them both into the river, but they fell near the bank, and the little waves carried them back to the land, just as if the river would not take from her what she loved best, because they could not give her back little Kay.

Mutta Gerda luuli nyt, ettei hÀn heittÀnyt kenkiÀ tarpeeksi kauas ja niin hÀn kömpi veneeseen, joka oli kaislikossa, hÀn meni aivan ÀÀrimmÀiseen pÀÀhÀn asti ja heitti kengÀt. Mutta vene ei ollut sidottu kiinni ja hÀnen liikkeidensÀ vaikutuksesta se liukui pois maalta.

But she thought the shoes had not been thrown out far enough. Then she crept into a boat that lay among the reeds, and threw the shoes again from the farther end of the boat into the water, but it was not fastened. And her movement sent it gliding away from the land.

HÀn huomasi sen ja kiirehti pÀÀsemÀÀn pois, mutta ennenkuin hÀn ehti takaisin, oli vene jo yli kyynÀrÀn verran vesillÀ ja nyt se nopeasti liukui eteenpÀin.

When she saw this she hastened to reach the end of the boat, but before she could so it was more than a yard from the bank, and drifting away faster than ever.

Silloin pelÀstyi pieni Gerda suuresti ja rupesi itkemÀÀn, mutta kukaan ei kuullut hÀntÀ paitsi harmaat varpuset ja ne eivÀt voineet kantaa hÀntÀ maihin. Mutta ne lensivÀt pitkin rantaa ja lauloivat ikÀÀnkuin lohduttaakseen hÀntÀ:
— TÀÀllĂ€ me olemme, tÀÀllĂ€ me olemme!

Then little Gerda was very much frightened, and began to cry, but no one heard her except the sparrows, and they could not carry her to land, but they flew along by the shore, and sang, as if to comfort her, “Here we are! Here we are!”

Vene kulki virran mukana, hÀnen pienet punaiset kenkÀnsÀ uivat perÀssÀ, mutta ne eivÀt voineet saavuttaa venettÀ, joka alkoi kulkea kiivaammin.

The boat floated with the stream; little Gerda sat quite still with only her stockings on her feet; the red shoes floated after her, but she could not reach them because the boat kept so much in advance.

Kaunista oli molemmilla rannoilla, kauniita kukkia, vanhoja puita ja rinteitÀ, joilla oli lampaita ja lehmiÀ, mutta ei ihmisiÀ nÀkyvissÀ.

The banks on each side of the river were very pretty. There were beautiful flowers, old trees, sloping fields, in which cows and sheep were grazing, but not a man to be seen.

— EhkĂ€pĂ€ virta vie minut pienen Kain luo, ajatteli Gerda ja sitten hĂ€n tuli paremmalle mielelle, nousi seisomaan ja katseli monta tuntia noita kauniita, vihreitĂ€ rantoja.

Perhaps the river will carry me to little Kay, thought Gerda, and then she became more cheerful, and raised her head, and looked at the beautiful green banks; and so the boat sailed on for hours.

Sitten hÀn tuli suurelle kirsikkatarhalle, missÀ oli punainen talo kummallisine punaisine ja sinisine ikkunoineen, muuten siinÀ oli olkikatto ja ulkopuolella kaksi puusotamiestÀ, jotka tekivÀt kunniaa niille, jotka purjehtivat ohitse.

At length she came to a large cherry orchard, in which stood a small red house with strange red and blue windows. It had also a thatched roof, and outside were two wooden soldiers, that presented arms to her as she sailed past.

Gerda huusi heille. HÀn luuli, ettÀ ne olivat elÀviÀ, mutta ne tietysti eivÀt vastanneet. HÀn tuli aivan likelle niitÀ, virta ajoi veneen suoraan maata kohti.

Gerda called out to them, for she thought they were alive, but of course they did not answer. And as the boat drifted nearer to the shore, she saw what they really were.

Gerda huusi vielÀkin lujemmin ja silloin tuli talosta vanha, vanha vaimo, nojaten koukkusauvaansa. HÀnen pÀÀssÀÀn oli suuri lierilakki, johon oli maalattu mitÀ kauneimpia kukkasia.

Then Gerda called still louder, and there came a very old woman out of the house, leaning on a crutch. She wore a large hat to shade her from the sun, and on it were painted all sorts of pretty flowers.

— SinĂ€ pieni lapsi raukka! sanoi vanha vaimo, — kuinka sinĂ€ oletkaan joutunut suurelle, vĂ€kevĂ€lle virralle, ajautunut kauas maailmalle? Ja sitten astui vanhus aivan veteen, iski koukkusauvansa kiinni veneeseen, veti sen maihin ja nosti pois pienen Gerdan.

“You poor little child,” said the old woman, “how did you manage to come all this distance into the wide world on such a rapid rolling stream?” And then the old woman walked in the water, seized the boat with her crutch, drew it to land, and lifted Gerda out.

Ja Gerda iloitsi pÀÀstessÀÀn kuivalle maalle, mutta pelkÀsi sentÀÀn hiukkasen vierasta, vanhaa vaimoa.

And Gerda was glad to feel herself on dry ground, although she was rather afraid of the strange old woman.

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