English Original
Once upon a time there was a little girl, pretty and dainty. But in summer she was obliged to go barefooted because she was poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes, so that her little instep grew quite red.
In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker's wife; she made, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes out of some old pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well, for they were intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.
Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the day of her mother's funeral. They were certainly not suitable for mourning; but she had no others, and so she put her bare feet into them and walked behind the humble coffin.
Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady; she looked at the little girl, and taking pity on her, said to the clergyman, "Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will take care of her."
Karen believed that this was all on account of the red shoes, but the old lady thought them hideous, and so they were burnt. Karen herself was dressed very neatly and cleanly; she was taught to read and to sew, and people said that she was pretty. But the mirror told her, "You are more than pretty—you are beautiful."
One day the Queen was travelling through that part of the country, and had her little daughter, who was a princess, with her. All the people, amongst them Karen too, streamed towards the castle. The little princess, in fine white clothes, stood before the window. She wore neither a train nor a golden crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer than those which the shoemaker's wife had sewn for little Karen. There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
Karen was now old enough to be confirmed; she received some new clothes, and she was also to have some new shoes. The rich shoemaker in the town took the measure of her little foot. Amongst the shoes in his shop stood a pair of red ones, like those which the princess had worn. How beautiful they were! and the shoemaker said that they had been made for a count's daughter, but that they had not fitted her.
"I suppose they are of shiny leather?" asked the old lady. "They shine so."
"Yes, they do shine," said Karen. They fitted her, and were bought. But the old lady knew nothing of their being red, for she would never have allowed Karen to be confirmed in red shoes.
Everybody looked at her feet, and the whole of the way from the church door to the choir it seemed to her as if even the ancient figures on the monuments had their eyes fixed on her red shoes. It was only of these that she thought when the clergyman laid his hand upon her head and spoke of the holy baptism. The organ pealed forth solemnly, and the sweet children's voices mingled with that of their old leader; but Karen thought only of her red shoes. In the afternoon the old lady heard from everybody that Karen had worn red shoes. She said that it was a shocking thing to do, that it was very improper, and that Karen was always to go to church in future in black shoes, even if they were old.
On the following Sunday there was Communion. Karen looked first at the black shoes, then at the red ones—looked at the red ones again, and put them on.
The sun was shining gloriously, so Karen and the old lady went along the footpath through the corn, where it was rather dusty.
At the church door stood an old crippled soldier leaning on a crutch; he had a wonderfully long beard, more red than white. "Dear me, what pretty dancing-shoes!" said the soldier. "Sit fast, when you dance," said he, addressing the shoes, and slapping the soles with his hand.
The old lady gave the soldier some money and then went with Karen into the church.
And all the people inside looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the figures gazed at them; when Karen knelt before the altar and put the golden goblet to her mouth, she thought only of the red shoes. It seemed to her as though they were swimming about in the goblet, and she forgot to sing the psalm, forgot to say the "Lord's Prayer."
Now every one came out of church, and the old lady stepped into her carriage. But just as Karen was lifting up her foot to get in too, the old soldier said: "Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!" and Karen could not help it, she was obliged to dance a few steps; and when she had once begun, her legs continued to dance. It seemed as if the shoes had got power over them. She danced round the church corner, for she could not stop; the coachman had to run after her and seize her. He lifted her into the carriage, but her feet continued to dance, so that she kicked the good old lady violently. At last they took off her shoes, and her legs were at rest.
At home the shoes were put into the cupboard, but Karen could not help looking at them.
Now the old lady fell ill, and it was said that she would not rise from her bed again. She had to be nursed and waited upon, and this was no one's duty more than Karen's. But there was a grand ball in the town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the red shoes, saying to herself that there was no sin in doing that; she put the red shoes on, thinking there was no harm in that either; and then she went to the ball; and commenced to dance.
But when she wanted to go to the right, the shoes danced to the left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced down the room, down the stairs through the street, and out through the gates of the town. She danced, and was obliged to dance, far out into the dark wood. Suddenly something shone up among the trees, and she believed it was the moon, for it was a face. But it was the old soldier with the red beard; he sat there nodding his head and said: "Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!"
She was frightened, and wanted to throw the red shoes away; but they stuck fast. She tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown fast to her feet. She danced and was obliged to go on dancing over field and meadow, in rain and sunshine, by night and by day—but by night it was most horrible.
She danced out into the open churchyard; but the dead there did not dance. They had something better to do than that. She wanted to sit down on the pauper's grave where the bitter fern grows; but for her there was neither peace nor rest. And as she danced past the open church door she saw an angel there in long white robes, with wings reaching from his shoulders down to the earth; his face was stern and grave, and in his hand he held a broad shining sword.
"Dance you shall," said he, "dance in your red shoes till you are pale and cold, till your skin shrivels up and you are a skeleton! Dance you shall, from door to door, and where proud and wicked children live you shall knock, so that they may hear you and fear you! Dance you shall, dance—!"
"Mercy!" cried Karen. But she did not hear what the angel answered, for the shoes carried her through the gate into the fields, along highways and byways, and unceasingly she had to dance.
One morning she danced past a door that she knew well; they were singing a psalm inside, and a coffin was being carried out covered with flowers. Then she knew that she was forsaken by every one and damned by the angel of God. She danced, and was obliged to go on dancing through the dark night. The shoes bore her away over thorns and stumps till she was all torn and bleeding; she danced away over the heath to a lonely little house. Here, she knew, lived the executioner; and she tapped with her finger at the window and said:
"Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance."
And the executioner said: "I don't suppose you know who I am. I strike off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is tingling to do so."
"Don't cut off my head!" said Karen, "for then I could not repent of my sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes."
And then she confessed all her sin, and the executioner struck off her feet with the red shoes; but the shoes danced away with the little feet across the field into the deep forest.
And he carved her a pair of wooden feet and some crutches, and taught her a psalm which is always sung by sinners; she kissed the hand that guided the axe, and went away over the heath.
"Now, I have suffered enough for the red shoes," she said; "I will go to church, so that people can see me." And she went quickly up to the church-door; but when she came there, the red shoes were dancing before her, and she was frightened, and turned back.
During the whole week she was sad and wept many bitter tears, but when Sunday came again she said: "Now I have suffered and striven enough. I believe I am quite as good as many of those who sit in church and give themselves airs." And so she went boldly on; but she had not got farther than the churchyard gate when she saw the red shoes dancing along before her. Then she became terrified, and turned back and repented right heartily of her sin.
She went to the parsonage, and begged that she might be taken into service there. She would be industrious, she said, and do everything that she could; she did not mind about the wages as long as she had a roof over her, and was with good people. The pastor's wife had pity on her, and took her into service. And she was industrious and thoughtful. She sat quiet and listened when the pastor read aloud from the Bible in the evening. All the children liked her very much, but when they spoke about dress and grandeur and beauty she would shake her head.
On the following Sunday they all went to church, and she was asked whether she wished to go too; but, with tears in her eyes, she looked sadly at her crutches. And then the others went to hear God's Word, but she went alone into her little room; this was only large enough to hold the bed and a chair. Here she sat down with her hymn-book, and as she was reading it with a pious mind, the wind carried the notes of the organ over to her from the church, and in tears she lifted up her face and said: "O God! help me!"
Then the sun shone so brightly, and right before her stood an angel of God in white robes; it was the same one whom she had seen that night at the church-door. He no longer carried the sharp sword, but a beautiful green branch, full of roses; with this he touched the ceiling, which rose up very high, and where he had touched it there shone a golden star. He touched the walls, which opened wide apart, and she saw the organ which was pealing forth; she saw the pictures of the old pastors and their wives, and the congregation sitting in the polished chairs and singing from their hymn-books. The church itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow room. She sat in the pew with the rest of the pastor's household, and when they had finished the hymn and looked up, they nodded and said, "It was right of you to come, Karen."
"It was mercy," said she.
The organ played and the children's voices in the choir sounded soft and lovely. The bright warm sunshine streamed through the window into the pew where Karen sat, and her heart became so filled with it, so filled with peace and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunbeams to Heaven, and no one was there who asked after the Red Shoes.
中文翻译
从前有一个小女孩，漂亮又娇小。但因为贫穷，夏天她不得不赤脚走路，冬天则要穿一双沉重的木鞋，把脚背都磨红了。
村子中央住着一位老鞋匠的妻子；她用一些旧红布片，尽她所能缝制了一双小鞋。鞋子很笨拙，但她的心意是好的，这是为那个名叫珈伦的小女孩做的。
珈伦在母亲下葬那天收到了这双鞋，并第一次穿上。它们当然不适合服丧；但她没有别的鞋，于是她光着脚穿上它们，跟在那口简陋的棺材后面走。
就在这时，一辆很大的旧马车驶过，车里坐着一位老妇人；她看着小女孩，心生怜悯，对牧师说：“听着，如果你把这小姑娘交给我，我会照顾她的。”
珈伦以为这都是因为红鞋的缘故，但老妇人觉得它们很丑，于是把它们烧掉了。珈伦自己被打扮得干净整洁；她学习读书和缝纫，人们都说她很漂亮。但镜子告诉她：“你不仅仅是漂亮——你是美丽。”
一天，皇后旅行经过那个地区，带着她的小女儿，一位公主。所有人都涌向城堡，珈伦也在其中。小公主穿着精美的白衣，站在窗前。她没有拖着裙裾，也没有戴金冠，但穿着一双华丽的红色摩洛哥皮鞋；它们确实比鞋匠妻子为小珈伦缝制的那双漂亮得多。世界上真的没有什么能比得上红鞋！
珈伦现在到了可以受坚信礼的年龄；她得到了一些新衣服，也将有一双新鞋。城里一位富有的鞋匠量了她的小脚。在他店里的鞋子中，有一双红色的，就像公主穿过的那双。它们多么美丽啊！鞋匠说这双鞋是为一位伯爵的女儿做的，但不合她的脚。
“我想它们是亮皮做的吧？”老妇人问。“它们这么亮。”
“是的，它们确实很亮，”珈伦说。鞋子很合脚，于是买下了。但老妇人不知道它们是红色的，因为她绝不会允许珈伦穿着红鞋去受坚信礼。
所有人都看着她的脚，从教堂门口到唱诗班的路上，她甚至觉得纪念碑上那些古老的雕像也把眼睛盯在她的红鞋上。当牧师把手放在她头上，讲述神圣的洗礼时，她心里只想着这双鞋。风琴庄严地奏响，孩子们甜美的歌声与他们年长的领唱者融合在一起；但珈伦只想着她的红鞋。下午，老妇人从每个人那里听说珈伦穿了红鞋。她说这太不像话了，非常不得体，并规定珈伦以后去教堂必须穿黑鞋，即使是旧的也行。
接下来的周日是圣餐礼。珈伦先看了看黑鞋，又看了看红鞋——再看了一次红鞋，然后穿上了它们。
阳光灿烂，珈伦和老妇人沿着穿过玉米田的小径走，路上尘土飞扬。
教堂门口站着一个残疾的老兵，拄着拐杖；他有一把奇长的胡子，红色多于白色。“天哪，多漂亮的舞鞋啊！”士兵说。“跳舞时要坐稳，”他对着鞋子说，并用手拍了拍鞋底。
老妇人给了士兵一些钱，然后和珈伦走进了教堂。
教堂里所有人都看着珈伦的红鞋，所有的画像也凝视着它们；当珈伦跪在圣坛前，将金圣餐杯送到嘴边时，她只想着红鞋。在她看来，它们仿佛在圣餐杯里游动，她忘记了唱圣诗，忘记了念“主祷文”。
现在大家都走出了教堂，老妇人上了马车。但就在珈伦抬脚也要上车时，那个老兵说：“天哪，多漂亮的舞鞋啊！”珈伦忍不住跳了几步；一旦开始，她的腿就停不下来地跳。仿佛鞋子控制了它们。她绕着教堂的角落跳，停不下来；车夫不得不追上去抓住她。他把她抱进马车，但她的脚仍在跳舞，以至于猛烈地踢到了好心的老妇人。最后他们脱下了她的鞋，她的腿才安静下来。
在家里，鞋子被放进了橱柜，但珈伦忍不住去看它们。
现在老妇人生病了，据说她再也起不了床了。她需要人护理和照料，这责任非珈伦莫属。但城里有一个盛大的舞会，珈伦受到了邀请。她看着红鞋，心想看看没有罪过；她穿上红鞋，心想穿穿也无害；然后她就去参加舞会，开始跳舞。
但当她想向右转时，鞋子却向左跳；当她想在房间里向上跳时，鞋子却向下跳，跳下楼梯，穿过街道，出了城门。她跳着，不得不跳着，一直跳到黑暗的森林深处。突然，树林中有什么东西在发光，她以为是月亮，因为那是一张脸。但那是红胡子的老兵；他坐在那里点着头说：“天哪，多漂亮的舞鞋啊！”
她吓坏了，想把红鞋扔掉；但它们粘得紧紧的。她扯掉袜子，但鞋子已经长在了她的脚上。她跳着，不得不继续在田野和草地上跳，在雨中，在阳光下，日日夜夜地跳——但夜晚最可怕。
她跳进了空旷的教堂墓地；但那里的死者不跳舞。他们有比跳舞更好的事要做。她想在一个长着苦蕨的穷人坟上坐下；但对她来说，既无安宁也无休息。当她跳过敞开的教堂门口时，她看见一位天使穿着白色长袍，翅膀从肩头垂到地面；他的面容严肃庄重，手中握着一把宽大明亮的剑。
“你必须跳，”他说，“穿着你的红鞋跳，直到你苍白冰冷，直到你的皮肤皱缩，变成一具骷髅！你必须跳，挨家挨户地跳，去那些住着骄傲邪恶孩子的地方敲门，让他们听到你，害怕你！你必须跳，跳——！”
“饶了我吧！”珈伦哭喊道。但她没有听到天使的回答，因为鞋子带着她穿过大门进入田野，沿着大路小路，她不得不永不停歇地跳。
一天早晨，她跳过一个熟悉的门口；里面正在唱圣诗，一口覆盖着鲜花的棺材被抬了出来。这时她知道她被所有人遗弃，并被上帝的天使诅咒了。她跳着，不得不在漆黑的夜里继续跳。鞋子载着她越过荆棘和树桩，直到她遍体鳞伤，鲜血淋漓；她跳着越过荒野，来到一座孤零零的小屋前。她知道，这里住着刽子手；她用手指敲了敲窗户说：
“出来，出来！我进不来，因为我必须跳舞。”
刽子手说：“我想你不知道我是谁。我砍掉恶人的头，我感觉到我的斧子在跃跃欲试。”
“别砍我的头！”珈伦说，“因为那样我就无法忏悔我的罪过了。但请砍掉我穿着红鞋的脚吧。”
于是她忏悔了她所有的罪过，刽子手砍掉了她穿着红鞋的双脚；但鞋子带着那双小脚跳过田野，进入了森林深处。
他为她刻了一双木脚和一副拐杖，并教给她一首罪人常唱的圣诗；她吻了那只握着斧子的手，然后越过荒野离开了。
“现在，我为这双红鞋受的苦已经够了，”她说；“我要去教堂，让人们看看我。”她快步走向教堂门口；但当她到达那里时，红鞋正在她面前跳舞，她吓坏了，转身回去了。
整整一个星期她都悲伤不已，流了许多苦涩的眼泪，但当周日再次来临时，她说：“现在我已经受苦和挣扎得够多了。我相信我和教堂里那些自命不凡的人一样好。”于是她大胆地往前走；但她还没走到墓地门口，就看到红鞋在她面前跳着舞。她吓坏了，转身回去，真心实意地忏悔了她的罪过。
她去了牧师住宅，请求在那里当佣人。她说她会很勤快，会做她能做的一切；只要有个栖身之所，和好人在一起，她不在乎工钱。牧师的妻子怜悯她，收留了她。她很勤快，也善解人意。晚上牧师大声朗读《圣经》时，她安静地坐着听。所有的孩子都很喜欢她，但当他们谈论衣着、华丽和美貌时，她就会摇头。
接下来的周日，他们都去教堂了，有人问她是否也想去；但她眼含泪水，悲伤地看着她的拐杖。于是其他人去听上帝的话语，而她独自走进她的小房间；这里只够放一张床和一把椅子。她拿着赞美诗集坐下来，当她虔诚地阅读时，风把教堂风琴的乐声传到了她这里，她泪流满面地抬起头说：“上帝啊！帮帮我！”
这时阳光如此灿烂，上帝的天使穿着白袍站在她面前；正是她那天晚上在教堂门口看到的那位。他不再拿着利剑，而是一根美丽的绿枝，开满了玫瑰花；他用它触碰天花板，天花板升得很高，他触碰过的地方出现了一颗金星。他触碰墙壁，墙壁大开，她看到了正在奏响的风琴；她看到了老牧师和他们妻子的画像，会众坐在光亮的椅子上，唱着赞美诗。教堂本身来到了这个可怜女孩的狭窄房间里。她和牧师家的其他人一起坐在长椅上，当他们唱完赞美诗抬起头时，他们点点头说：“珈伦，你来是对的。”
“这是仁慈，”她说。
风琴演奏着，唱诗班里孩子们的声音轻柔悦耳。明亮温暖的阳光透过窗户，照进珈伦坐的长椅，她的心充满了阳光，充满了和平与喜悦，以至于心碎了。她的灵魂乘着阳光飞向天堂，再也没有人问起那双红鞋。