The Last Match
In the beautiful evening,
the city slept in the cold and snowy night.
Snowflakes floated everywhere,
while a little girl wore a large slipper,
and she carried boxes of matches for sale in her old apron.
She ought to have a pair of slippers,
but the slippers were lost.
One was never found,
while a boy ran off with the other.
So the girl went on with her naked feet,
which were red and blue through the snow,
walking through the row of homes.
Holding a box of matches in hand,
she saw an empty street.
Poor little girl earned no money,
creeping in the snow with cold and hunger.
Snowflakes covered her hair,
that was hanging over her thin neck.
In all the windows there were,
Lights and fragrances of food,
while this girl didn’t even have any warmth.
In a corner formed by two houses,
the girl sat down.
She was getting bitter cold,
but didn’t dare to walk home.
The girl sold not one of the matches,
Since nobody was wandaring on the street,
so she knew she would be scolded and beaten.
Her home was no better,
with winds whistling in the room.
Her hands were shivering from cold,
as she rubbed a match.
The match sputtered and burned,
how wonderfully warm and comfortable it felt?
While she struck another match,
she clearly saw the dinner in a room.
The roasted goose steamed,
filled with apples and prunes.
With another match,
a beautiful Chirstmas tree appeared.
Thousands of candles were burning on tree branches,
and colored pictures were looking down to the freezing girl.
As a match went out,
the girl sensed that someone was dying.
Suddenly, she saw her grandmother,
and for unity with her grandmother,
she lit another bundle of matches,
wishing to be able to keep her grandmother with her.
In the corner,
leaning against the wall,
the poor girl froze to death on the last evening of the old year.