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Hans Christian Andersen - The lovers (Indragostiti)
The Top and the Ball lay in a drawer along with the other toys, and the Top said to the Ball: "Mightn't we be engaged? We lie in the same drawer." But the Ball, who was covered with morocco and thought as much of herself as any fine young lady, wouldn't reply to any such question as that.
Next day the little boy to whom the toys belonged came and painted the Top red and yellow, and drove a copper nail into it, which made a splendid appearance when the Top spun humming round.
"Look at me," said he to the Ball, "what do you say now? Mightn't we be an engaged couple—we suit each other so well. You jump and I dance; nobody could be happier than we two together."
"Oh, indeed, do you think so?" said the Ball. "You don't realize that my father and mother were morocco slippers, and that I have a cork in my body." "Well, but I'm made of mahogany," said the Top. "The Mayor himself turned me; he's got his own lathe, and he enjoyed doing it very much."
"Can I rely upon that statement?" said the Ball.
"May I never be whipped again if it's not true," answered the Top.
Hans Christian Andersen - The old street lamp (Vechiul felinar)
Did you ever hear the story of the old street lamp? It is not remarkably interesting, but for once in a way you may as well listen to it. It was a most respectable old lamp, which had seen many, many years of service, and now was to retire with a pension. It was this evening at its post for the last time, giving light to the street. His feelings were something like those of an old dancer at the theatre, who is dancing for the last time, and knows that on the morrow she will be in her garret, alone and forgotten. The lamp had very great anxiety about the next day, for he knew that he had to appear for the first time at the town hall, to be inspected by the mayor and the council, who were to decide if he were fit for further service or not;—whether the lamp was good enough to be used to light the inhabitants of one of the suburbs, or in the country, at some factory; and if not, it would be sent at once to an iron foundry, to be melted down. In this latter case it might be turned into anything, and he wondered very much whether he would then be able to remember that he had once been a street lamp, and it troubled him exceedingly. Whatever might happen, one thing seemed certain, that he would be separated from the watchman and his wife, whose family he looked upon as his own. The lamp had first been hung up on that very evening that the watchman, then a robust young man, had entered upon the duties of his office. Ah, well, it was a very long time since one became a lamp and the other a watchman. His wife had a little pride in those days; she seldom condescended to glance at the lamp, excepting when she passed by in the evening, never in the daytime. But in later years, when all these,—the watchman, the wife, and the lamp— had grown old, she had attended to it, cleaned it, and supplied it with oil. The old people were thoroughly honest, they had never cheated the lamp of a single drop of the oil provided for it.
http://uploading.com/files/2ba7b898/Han ... linar.mp4/
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Povesti, povestiri, amintiri dintr-o viata de om
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