English Original
Once upon a time, there were twenty-five tin soldiers, all brothers, made from the same old tin spoon. They wore red and blue uniforms, shouldered their guns, and looked straight ahead. When the lid of their box was lifted, a little boy exclaimed, "Hurrah, tin-soldiers!" for his birthday. He set them on a table.
Each soldier was identical except one, made last when the tin ran short. He stood firmly on one leg, just as the others did on two, and he became famous.
Among the many toys on the table was a beautiful cardboard castle. In front of it stood tiny trees around a mirror like a lake, with wax swans floating on it. But the most beautiful was a little paper lady in the castle doorway. She wore a fine muslin dress with a blue ribbon and a large glittering gold-paper rose. She was a dancer, stretching out her arms and lifting one leg so high the one-legged Tin Soldier thought she, too, had only one leg.
"That's the wife for me!" he thought. "But she lives in a castle, and I have only a box with twenty-four others. Still, I must meet her." He hid behind a snuff-box to watch her, as she balanced on one leg.
When night came, the other soldiers returned to their box, and the household went to bed. The toys came to life, playing and making noise. Only the Tin Soldier and the little Dancer remained still. She stood on tiptoe, arms outstretched; he stood steadfastly on his one leg, never taking his eyes off her.
At midnight, the lid of the snuff-box flew open. Inside was not snuff but a little black imp. "Don't look at things not meant for you!" the imp said. The Tin Soldier ignored him. "Wait till tomorrow!" the imp warned.
In the morning, the Tin Soldier was placed on a windowsill. Whether by the wind or the imp, the window flew open, and he fell head over heels from the third floor. He landed headfirst, his gun stuck between paving stones.
The maid and the boy searched but didn't see him. The Tin Soldier thought it improper to call out while in uniform.
It began to drizzle, then pour. After the rain, two street boys found him. "A Tin Soldier! Let's make him sail!" they said. They made a paper boat and set him sailing in the gutter. The boat tossed on the swift current, but the Tin Soldier remained steadfast, looking straight ahead, shouldering his gun.
The boat entered a dark tunnel. "Where am I?" he wondered. "If only the little lady were here, I wouldn't mind the darkness."
A large water-rat from the tunnel demanded, "Have you a passport? Show it!" The Tin Soldier stayed silent, gripping his gun. The rat chased the boat, shouting to wood chips and straw to stop him for not paying the toll.
The current grew stronger. The Tin Soldier saw daylight at the tunnel's end but heard a terrifying roar. The gutter emptied into a great canal, like a waterfall.
The boat rushed forward. The Tin Soldier held himself stiff, determined not to flinch. The boat whirled, filled with water, and began to sink. The water rose to his neck, then over his head. He thought of the little Dancer he would never see again, and a refrain echoed in his ears: "Forward, forward, soldier bold! Death's before thee, grim and cold!"
The paper tore, and he fell—but was swallowed by a great fish.
It was dark and cramped inside the fish, but the steadfast Tin Soldier lay full length, shouldering his gun. The fish swam, then contorted violently before going still. A flash of light—daylight streamed in. "Why, here is the little Tin Soldier!" a voice exclaimed. The fish had been caught, sold, and brought to a kitchen. The cook cut it open, found the soldier, and carried him to the living room.
Everyone wanted to see the hero from inside a fish, but the Tin Soldier was not proud. They placed him on a table—and he was back in the same room! He saw the same children, toys, and the castle with the little Dancer. She still stood on one leg, steadfast. He was deeply moved, nearly shedding tin tears, but that was not fitting for a soldier. He looked at her, but she said nothing.
Suddenly, a boy threw the Tin Soldier into the stove without explanation—doubtly the imp's doing.
The heat was terrible. He didn't know if it was from the fire or his passion. His color was gone. He looked at the little lady, and she looked at him. He felt himself melting but remained steadfast, gun at his shoulder.
A door opened, a draught caught the Dancer, and she flew like a sylph into the stove, bursting into flames—and was gone. The Tin Soldier melted into a lump. The next morning, the maid found him in the shape of a heart in the ashes. All that remained of the Dancer was her gilt rose, burnt black as a cinder.
中文翻译
从前，有二十五个锡兵，他们都是兄弟，由同一个旧锡汤匙制成。他们穿着红蓝相间的制服，扛着枪，目视前方。当他们的盒子被打开时，一个小男孩因为过生日而欢呼：“好哇，锡兵！”他把他们摆在了桌子上。
每个锡兵都一模一样，除了最后一个，因为锡不够了，他只有一条腿。但他像其他锡兵站在两条腿上一样稳稳地站着，后来他变得很有名。
桌子上有许多玩具，其中最漂亮的是一座纸板城堡。城堡前有小树环绕着一面像湖一样的镜子，上面漂着蜡做的天鹅。但最美丽的是城堡门口的一位小纸人女士。她穿着精致的平纹细布裙子，系着蓝色丝带，别着一朵闪闪发光的大金纸玫瑰。她是一位舞者，伸展着双臂，一条腿抬得高高的，以至于独腿的锡兵以为她也只有一条腿。
“那是我想要的妻子！”他想。“但她住在城堡里，而我只有一个装着其他二十四个锡兵的盒子。不过，我必须认识她。”他躲在一个鼻烟盒后面看着她，她单腿保持着平衡。
夜晚来临，其他锡兵回到了盒子里，家里人也上床睡觉了。玩具们活了过来，玩耍吵闹。只有锡兵和小舞者一动不动。她踮着脚尖，双臂伸展；他坚定地站在一条腿上，眼睛从未离开过她。
午夜时分，鼻烟盒的盖子飞开了。里面不是鼻烟，而是一个黑色的小精灵。“别看不属于你的东西！”精灵说。锡兵没有理他。“等着瞧吧！”精灵警告道。
早上，锡兵被放在窗台上。不知是风还是精灵的缘故，窗户突然打开，他从三楼头朝下摔了下去。他头朝下落地，枪卡在了铺路石之间。
女仆和男孩寻找他，但没有看见。锡兵认为穿着制服大喊大叫是不合适的。
天开始下毛毛雨，然后是大雨。雨后，两个街上的男孩发现了他。“一个锡兵！让他去航行吧！”他们说。他们做了一艘纸船，让他在排水沟里航行。船在急流中颠簸，但锡兵保持坚定，目视前方，扛着枪。
船进入了一个黑暗的隧道。“我在哪儿？”他想。“要是那位小女士在这里就好了，黑暗我也不在乎。”
一只住在隧道里的大水鼠质问道：“你有护照吗？拿出来！”锡兵沉默不语，紧握着枪。水鼠追赶着小船，对着木屑和稻草喊叫，让他们拦住这个没交过路费的家伙。
水流变得更急了。锡兵看到了隧道尽头的日光，但听到了一阵可怕的轰鸣声。排水沟汇入了一条大运河，就像瀑布一样。
船向前冲去。锡兵尽力挺直身体，决心不退缩。船旋转着，进了水，开始下沉。水淹到了他的脖子，然后没过他的头顶。他想起了再也见不到的小舞者，耳边反复回响着一句话：“前进，前进，勇敢的士兵！冷酷的死亡就在你面前！”
纸破了，他掉了下去——但被一条大鱼吞进了肚子。
鱼肚子里又黑又挤，但坚定的锡兵伸直身体躺着，扛着他的枪。鱼游动着，然后剧烈地扭动，最后静止了。一道闪光——日光透了进来。“哎呀，小锡兵在这里！”一个声音喊道。鱼被抓住、卖掉，带进了厨房。厨师剖开鱼，发现了锡兵，把他带到了客厅。
大家都想看看从鱼肚子里找到的英雄，但锡兵并不骄傲。他们把他放在桌子上——而他竟然回到了同一个房间！他看到了同样的孩子、玩具，以及那座有小舞者的城堡。她仍然单腿站着，坚定不移。他深受感动，几乎要流出锡做的眼泪，但那对一个士兵来说不合适。他看着她，但她什么也没说。
突然，一个男孩毫无理由地把锡兵扔进了火炉——无疑是那个精灵干的。
热浪非常可怕。他不知道这是火焰的炙烤还是内心激情的燃烧。他的颜色都褪去了。他看着那位小女士，她也看着他。他感觉自己正在融化，但仍然坚定不移，枪扛在肩上。
一扇门开了，一阵穿堂风卷起了小舞者，她像精灵一样飞进了火炉，燃起火焰——消失了。锡兵融化成了一小块。第二天早上，女仆在灰烬中发现他变成了一个心形。小舞者只剩下她那镀金的玫瑰，烧得像煤渣一样黑。