Эгоистичный великан. Оскар Уайльд. Вы искали: the selfish giant (Английский - Тамильский) The selfish giant параллельный перевод

Каждый день, возвращаясь из школы, дети, как повелось, заходили в сад Великана поиграть. Это был большой красивый сад, и трава там была зелёная и мягкая. Из травы тут и там, словно звёзды, выглядывали венчики прекрасных цветов, а двенадцать персиковых деревьев, которые росли в этом саду, весной покрывались нежным жемчужно-розовым цветом, а осенью приносили сочные плоды. На деревьях сидели птицы и пели так сладко, что дети бросали игры, чтобы послушать их пение.

Как хорошо нам здесь! - радостно кричали дети друг другу.

Но вот однажды Великан вернулся домой. Он навещал своего приятеля - корнуэльского Великана-людоеда и пробыл у него в гостях семь лет. За семь лет он успел поговорить обо всём, о чём ему хотелось поговорить, ибо был не слишком словоохотлив, после чего решил возвратиться в свой замок, а возвратившись, увидел детей, которые играли у него в саду.

Что вы тут делаете? - закричал он страшным голосом, и дети разбежались.

Мой сад - это мой сад, - сказал Великан, - и каждому это должно быть ясно, и, уж конечно, никому, кроме самого себя, я не позволю здесь играть.

И он обнёс свой сад высокой стеной и прибил объявление:

Вход воспрещен. Нарушители будут наказаны.

Он был большим эгоистом, этот Великан.

Бедным детям теперь негде было играть. Они попробовали поиграть на дороге, но там оказалось очень много острых камней и пыли, и им не понравилось там играть. Теперь после школы они обычно бродили вокруг высокой стены и вспоминали прекрасный сад, который за ней скрывался.

Как хорошо было там, - говорили они друг другу.

А потом пришла Весна, и повсюду на деревьях появились маленькие почки и маленькие птички, и только в саду Великана-эгоиста по-прежнему была Зима. Птицы не хотели распевать там своих песен, потому что в саду не было детей, а деревья забыли, что им пора цвести. Как-то раз один хорошенький цветочек выглянул из травы, но увидел объявление и так огорчился за детей, что тут же спрятался обратно в землю и заснул. Только Снегу и Морозу всё это очень пришлось по душе.

Весна позабыла прийти в этот сад, - воскликнули они, - и мы теперь будем царить здесь круглый год!
Снег покрыл траву своим толстым белым плащом, а Мороз расписал все деревья серебряной краской. После этого Снег и Мороз пригласили к себе в гости Северный Ветер, и он прилетел. С головы до пят он был закутан в меха и целый день бушевал в саду и завывал в печной трубе.

Какое восхитительное местечко! - сказал Северный Ветер. - Мы должны пригласить в гости Град.

И тогда явился и Град. Изо дня в день он часами стучал по кровле замка, пока не перебил почти всей черепицы, а потом что было мочи носился по саду. На нём были серые одежды, а дыхание его было ледяным.

Не понимаю, почему так запаздывает Весна, пора бы уж ей прийти, - сказал Великан-эгоист, сидя у окна и поглядывая на свой холодный, белый сад. - Надеюсь, погода скоро переменится.

Но Весна так и не пришла, не пришло и Лето. Осень принесла золотые плоды в каждый сад, но даже не заглянула в сад Великана.

Он слишком большой эгоист, - сказала Осень. И в саду Великана всегда была Зима, и только Северный Ветер да Снег, Град и Мороз плясали и кружились между деревьев.

Однажды Великан, проснувшись в своей постели, услышал нежную музыку. Эта музыка показалась ему такой сладостной, что он подумал, не идут ли мимо его замка королевские музыканты. На самом-то деле это была всего лишь маленькая коноплянка, которая запела у него под окном, но Великан так давно не слышал пения птиц в своём саду, что щебет коноплянки показался ему самой прекрасной музыкой на свете. И тут Град перестал выплясывать у него над головой, и Северный Ветер прекратил свои завывания, а в приотворённое окно долетел восхитительный аромат.

Должно быть, Весна всё-таки пришла наконец, - сказал Великан, выскочил из постели и глянул в окно.

И что же он увидел?

Он увидел совершенно необычайную картину. Дети проникли в сад сквозь небольшое отверстие в стене и залезли на деревья. Они сидели на всех деревьях. Куда бы Великан ни бросил взгляд - на каждом дереве он видел какого-нибудь ребёнка. И деревья были так рады их возвращению, что сразу зацвели и стояли, тихонько покачивая ветвями над головками детей. А птицы порхали по саду и щебетали от восторга, и цветы выглядывали из зеленой травы и улыбались. Это было очаровательное зрелище, и только в одном углу сада всё ещё стояла Зима. Это был самый укромный уголок, и Великан увидел там маленького мальчика. Он был так мал, что не мог дотянуться до ветвей дерева и только ходил вокруг него и горько плакал. И бедное деревце было всё до самой верхушки ещё покрыто инеем и снегом, а над ним кружился и завывал Северный Ветер.

Взберись на меня, мальчик! - сказало Дерево и склонило ветви почти до самой земли.

Но мальчик не мог дотянуться до них - он был слишком мал.

И сердце Великана растаяло, когда он глядел в окно.

Какой же я был эгоист! - сказал он. - Теперь я знаю, почему Весна не хотела прийти в мой сад. Я посажу этого маленького мальчика на верхушку дерева и сломаю стену, и мой сад на веки вечные станет местом детских игр. Он и в самом деле был очень расстроен тем, что натворил.

И вот он на цыпочках спустился по лестнице, тихонько отомкнул парадную дверь своего замка и вышел в сад. Но как только дети увидели Великана, они так испугались, что тут же бросились врассыпную, и в сад снова пришла Зима. Не убежал один только маленький мальчик, потому что глаза его были полны слез, и он даже не заметил появления Великана. А Великан тихонько подкрался к нему сзади, осторожно поднял с земли и посадил на дерево. И дерево тотчас зацвело, и к нему слетелись птицы и запели песни, порхая с ветки на ветку, а маленький мальчик обхватил Великана руками за шею и поцеловал. И тогда другие дети, увидав, что Великан перестал быть злым, прибежали обратно, а вместе с ними возвратилась и Весна.

Теперь этот сад ваш, дети, - сказал Великан и взял большой топор и снёс стену.

И жители, направляясь в полдень на рынок, видели Великана, который играл с детьми в самом прекрасном саду, какой только есть на свете.

Весь день дети играли в саду, а вечером они подошли к Великану, чтобы пожелать ему доброй ночи.

А где же ваш маленький приятель? - спросил Великан. - Мальчик, которого я посадил на дерево? - Он особенно пришёлся по душе Великану, потому что поцеловал его.

Мы не знаем, - отвечали дети. - Он куда-то ушёл.

Непременно передайте ему, чтобы он не забыл прийти сюда завтра, - сказал Великан.

Но дети отвечали, что они не знают, где живёт этот мальчик, так как ни разу не видели его раньше, и тогда Великан очень опечалился.

Каждый день после уроков дети приходили поиграть с Великаном, но маленький мальчик, который так полюбился Великану, ни разу больше не пришел в сад. Великан был теперь очень добр ко всем детям, но тосковал о своём маленьком друге и часто о нём вспоминал.

Как бы мне хотелось повидать его! - то и дело говорил Великан.

Год проходил за годом, и Великан состарился и одряхлел. Он уже не мог больше играть в саду и только сидел в глубоком кресле, смотрел на детей и на их игры да любовался своим садом.

У меня много прекрасных цветов, - говорил он, - но нет на свете цветов прекраснее, чем дети.
Как-то раз зимним утром Великан, одеваясь, выглянул в окно. Он теперь не испытывал неприязни к Зиме, - ведь он знал, что Весна просто уснула, а цветы отдыхают.

И вдруг он стал тереть глаза и всё смотрел и смотрел в окно, словно увидел чудо. А глазам его и вправду открылось волшебное зрелище. В самом укромном уголке сада стояло дерево, сплошь покрытое восхитительным белым цветом. Ветви его были из чистого золота, и на них висели серебряные плоды, а под деревом стоял маленький мальчик, который когда-то так полюбился Великану.

Не помня себя от радости, побежал Великан вниз по лестнице и ринулся в сад. Быстрым шагом прошёл он по траве прямо к ребёнку. Но когда он подошёл совсем близко, лицо его побагровело от гнева, и он спросил:

Кто посмел нанести тебе эти раны?
Ибо на ладонях мальчика он увидел раны от двух гвоздей, и на детских его ступнях были раны от двух гвоздей тоже.

Кто посмел нанести тебе эти раны? - вскричал Великан. - Скажи мне, и я возьму мой большой меч и поражу виновного.

Нет! - ответствовало дитя. - Ведь эти раны породила Любовь.

Скажи - кто ты? - спросил Великан, и благоговейный страх обуял его, и он пал перед ребёнком на колени.

А дитя улыбнулось Великану и сказало:

Однажды ты позволил мне поиграть в твоём саду, а сегодня я поведу тебя в свой сад, который зовется Раем.
И на другой день, когда дети прибежали в сад, они нашли Великана мёртвым: он лежал под деревом, которое было всё осыпано белым цветом.

К аждый день, возвращаясь домой из школы, дети шли поиграть в сад Великана. Это был большой красивый сад. Земля там была устлана мягкой зеленой травой, над которой возвышались цветы, похожие на маленькие звездочки. Двенадцать персиковых деревьев весной были осыпаны розовыми и жемчужно-белыми цветами, а осенью дарили всем свои замечательные плоды. Птицы садились на эти деревья, и так пели свои песни, что дети забывали про игры и слушали, слушали... «Как же здорово здесь!»- говорили они друг другу.

Настал день, когда Великан вернулся домой. Он был в гостях у своего друга корнуэльского людоеда, и провел там семь лет. За эти семь лет Великан успел сказал все, что хотел сказать (он не любил слишком долгих бесед), и решил вернуться в свой родной замок. Подойдя к дому, он обнаружил детей, преспокойно игравших в его саду. «Что вы здесь делаете?!» - прорычал Великан, и сад вмиг опустел. «Это мое поместье, - подумал он. - И играть здесь буду я сам с собой».

Великан построил вокруг высокий забор, и повесил табличку: «Посторонним вход запрещен». Бедный Великан - себя он любил больше всех.

А детям стало негде играть. Они пробовали играть на дороге, но там валялись большие пыльные камни, и нельзя было играть в салочки. Один за другим, дети тихонько подходили к забору, чтобы хоть в щелочку взглянуть на прекрасный сад. Но плотно пригнанные доски надежно охраняли владения Великана. «Ах, как хорошо нам там было!» - вздыхали дети.

Пришла весна, и все вокруг расцвело, защебетало. Только в саду Великана была зима. Там не было детей, и птицам не кому было петь свои песни. Не было детей, и деревья не стали расцветать. Какой-то маленький цветочек высунул свою головку из-под земли, но когда он прочел табличку, ему стало так жалко детей, что он опять заснул. Зато Снег и Мороз решили: «Раз Весна забыла про этот сад, мы останемся здесь навсегда».

Снег покрыл тонкие стебельки своей пышной мантией, а Мороз разукрасил голые деревья тонкими серебряными кружевами. В гости они позвали Северный Ветер. Закутанный в меховую шубу он стал носиться между деревьями, и завывать в печной трубе. «Очаровательное местечко! - сказал он. Надо позвать Град». И наутро Град изо всех сил швырял маленькие острые льдинки по крыше дома, пока не разбил всю черепицу. Потом он помчался наперегонки с Северным Ветром. От его дыханья веточки превращались в прозрачные сосульки, падали и разбивались.

«Никак в толк не возьму, почему Весна так опаздывает», - вздыхал Великан. В который уже раз он подходил к окну, но там был все тот же белый, холодный сад. «Ну, ничего, - говорил он, скоро погода изменится».

Погода и не думала меняться. Даже Осень, дарившая всем свои золотистые фрукты, обошла стороной сад Великана. «Он такой жадный» - фыркнула она. Только Зима, только Северный Ветер и Град хозяйничали там. И Белый Снег танцевал свой странный танец, перебегая от дерева к дереву.

Как-то утром, еще лежа в кровати, Великан услышал прекрасную музыку. Эти тихие звуки так ему понравились, что он подумал: «Наверное, кто-то из королевских музыкантов проходит около дома». А это просто маленькая коноплянка пела свою весеннюю песенку. Великан так долго не слышал птиц, что эта незатейливая мелодия была для него лучшей в мире. Град прекратил свою безумную пляску на крыше, затих удивленно Северный Ветер, и восхитительный аромат донесся до Великана.

«Весна! Явилась - не запылилась!» - воскликнул он, выпрыгнув из под одеяла, и подбежав к окну. Что же он там увидел? - Удивительную картину. Дети пролезли через маленькую дыру в уже обветшалом заборе, и весело расселись на ветках деревьев. Деревья были так рады опять встретить детей, что сразу же расцвели. Теперь они нежно покачивали ветвями над маленькими детскими головками. Только в дальнем углу сада все еще царила Зима. Там, под деревом, стоял один мальчик и горько плакал. Он был совсем маленький, и не мог залезть наверх. Снег падал на его плечи, а крошечные ножки посинели от холода. «Забирайся сюда», - прошелестело дерево, пытаясь опустить пониже заиндевелые ветки, но мальчик был слишком мал. И сердце Великана растаяло, когда он увидел это. «Какой же я негодяй! - подумал он. Вот почему Весна не пришла ко мне. Сейчас я подсажу малыша на самую верхушку. Я снесу этот забор, и в моем саду всегда будут играть дети». И Великану стало так стыдно за то, что он натворил...

На цыпочках он спустился вниз, тихо-тихо открыл входную дверь и ступил в сад. Увидев Великана дети так напугались, что сразу бросились врассыпную. И в саду опять воцарилась Зима. Только самый маленький мальчик ничего не видел, потому что глаза его были полны слез. Великан тихонько подошел к нему, бережно взял его на руки, и посадил на самую большую ветку. И внезапно дерево распустилось, и птицы запели в его ветвях. А мальчик протянул свои ручонки к Великану, обхватил его за шею, и поцеловал. Тут все дети увидели, что Великан уже больше не злой, и радостно побежали в сад. Вместе с ними пришла и Весна. «Теперь это ваш сад», - сказал Великан, и взяв большой топор разрубил забор на маленькие кусочки. А когда в полдень все взрослые отправились по своим делам, Великан играл с детьми в таком прекрасном саду, лучше которого им никогда не приходилось видеть. Дети играли весь день напролет, и вечером пришли к Великану пожелать спокойной ночи.

«А где же ваш маленький приятель? - спросил он, - мальчик, которого я посадил на дерево». Великан полюбил его больше всех, потому что он один поцеловал Великана. «Мы не знаем, - отвечали они. Наверное, он уже ушел». «Тогда скажите ему, пусть обязательно приходит завтра», - сказал Великан. Но оказалось, что дети видели его в первый раз, и не знали, где он живет. Великан загрустил.

Теперь каждый день, после школы, дети приходили к нему играть. Но тот мальчик, которого так полюбил Великан, больше не появлялся. Великан очень тосковал о своем друге. «Как бы я хотел повидать его!» - вздыхал он. Дни шли за днями, и Великан стал совсем старым. Он уже не мог играть, поэтому он просто сидел в своем большом кресле, и с любовью смотрел на сад и на детей. «Какие хорошие у меня цветы», - думал он: «Но, что ты не говори, а дети лучше всех цветов на свете».

Как-то зимним утром, встав с кровати, Великан выглянул в окно. Он уже больше не боялся зимы, ведь это же просто спящая весна, когда цветы отдыхают и набираются сил. Вдруг он в изумлении протер глаза и прильнул к окну. Боже, какая красота! Дерево в дальнем углу сада расцвело прекрасными белыми цветами. Серебристые фрукты свешивались с позолоченных веток. А внизу, под деревом... Внизу стоял тот самый мальчик! Забыв, сколько ему лет, Великан кубарем скатился с лестницы и побежал ко краю сада. Подойдя совсем близко, Великан в ужасе остановился. На запястьях мальчика были безобразные раны, похожие на следы двух больших гвоздей, и такие же следы были на его маленьких ножках.

«Кто посмел?» - задыхаясь от гнева, спросил Великан. «Кто посмел нанести эти раны? Я возьму свой большой меч и поражу его». «Нет», - сказал мальчик, «это раны Любви». Вдруг Великан почувствовал себя совсем крохотным, и странный страх охватил его. «Кто Ты?» - спросил он, опускаясь на колени. Мальчик с любовью и нежностью смотрел на него. «Ты не закрыл для Меня сад твой, и Мой сад открыт для тебя. Сегодня же ты будешь со Мною в Раю». Когда дети прибежали в сад, они увидели лежащего под деревом Великана, осыпанного белыми цветами.

Selfish Giant

E very afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant"s garden.
It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. "How happy we are here!" they cried to each other.
One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.
"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.
"My own garden is my own garden," said the Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself." So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

TRESPASSERS
WILL BE
PROSECUTED
He was a very selfish Giant.

The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside.
"How happy we were there," they said to each other.
Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. "Spring has forgotten this garden," they cried, "so we will live here all the year round." The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. "This is a delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on a visit." So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.
"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant"s garden she gave none. "He is too selfish," she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King"s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. "I believe the Spring has come at last," said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.
What did he see?
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children"s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the little boy was too tiny.
And the Giant"s heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children"s playground for ever and ever." He was really very sorry for what he had done.

So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became Winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he died not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant"s neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. "It is your garden now, little children," said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were gong to market at twelve o"clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.
"But where is your little companion?" he said: "the boy I put into the tree." The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.
"We don"t know," answered the children; "he has gone away."
"You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow," said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. "How I would like to see him!" he used to say.
Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all."

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, "Who hath dared to wound thee?" For on the palms of the child"s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.
"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him."
"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of Love."
"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, "You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise."
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant’s garden.

It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. ‘How happy we are here!’ they cried to each other.

One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.

‘What are you doing here?’ he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.

‘My own garden is my own garden,’ said the Giant; ‘any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.’ So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED

He was a very selfish Giant.

‘How happy we were there,’ they said to each other.

Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. ‘Spring has forgotten this garden,’ they cried, ‘so we will live here all the year round.’ The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. ‘This is a delightful spot,’ he said, ‘we must ask the Hail on a visit.’ So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.

‘I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,’ said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; ‘I hope there will be a change in the weather.’

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none. ‘He is too selfish,’ she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. ‘I believe the Spring has come at last,’ said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.

What did he see?

He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. ‘Climb up! little boy,’ said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the little boy was too tiny.

And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. ‘How selfish I have been!’ he said; ‘now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for ever and ever.’ He was really very sorry for what he had done.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.

‘But where is your little companion?’ he said: ‘the boy I put into the tree.’ The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.

‘We don’t know,’ answered the children; ‘he has gone away.’

‘You must tell him to be sure and come here tomorrow,’ said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. ‘How I would like to see him!’ he used to say.

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. ‘I have many beautiful flowers,’ he said; ‘but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.’

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, ‘Who hath dared to wound thee?’ For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

‘Who hath dared to wound thee?’ cried the Giant; ‘tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.’

‘Nay!’ answered the child; ‘but these are the wounds of Love.’

‘Who art thou?’ said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, ‘You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.’

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant’s garden.

It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass.

Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit.

The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them.

«How happy we are here!»

they cried to each other.

One day the Giant came back.

He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years.

After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle.

When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.

«What are you doing here?»

he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.

«My own garden is my own garden,» said the Giant;
«any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.»

So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

He was a very selfish Giant.

The poor children had now nowhere to play.

They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it.

They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside.

«How happy we were there,» they said to each other.

Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds.

Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter.

The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom.

Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep.

The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost.

«Spring has forgotten this garden,» they cried, «so we will live here all the year round.»

The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver.

Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came.

He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down.

«This is a delightful spot,» he said, «we must ask the Hail on a visit.»

So the Hail came.

Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go.

He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.

«I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,» said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden;
«I hope there will be a change in the weather.»

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer.

The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none.

«He is too selfish,» she said.

So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music.

It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King’s musicians passing by.

It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world.

Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement.

«I believe the Spring has come at last,» said the Giant;
and he jumped out of bed and looked out.

What did he see?

He saw a most wonderful sight.

Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees.

In every tree that he could see there was a little child.

And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads.

The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing.

It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter.

It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy.

He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly.

The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it.

little boy,» said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could;
but the boy was too tiny.

And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out.

«How selfish I have been!»

he said;
«now I know why the Spring would not come here.

I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for ever and ever.»

He was really very sorry for what he had done.

So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden.

But when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again.

Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming.

And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree.

And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him.

And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring.

«It is your garden now, little children,» said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall.

And when the people were going to market at twelve o’clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.

«But where is your little companion?»

he said:
«the boy I put into the tree.»

The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.

«We don’t know,» answered the children;
«he has gone away.»

«You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,» said the Giant.

But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before;
and the Giant felt very sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant.

But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again.

The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him.

«How I would like to see him!»

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble.

He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden.

«I have many beautiful flowers,» he said;
«but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.»

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing.

He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked.

It certainly was a marvellous sight.

In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms.

Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden.

He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child.

And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, «Who hath dared to wound thee?»

For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

«Who hath dared to wound thee?»

cried the Giant;
«tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.»

answered the child;
«but these are the wounds of Love.»

«Who art thou?»

said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, «You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.»

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

Vocabulary:
selfish - эгоистичный, себялюбивый
Cornish - корнуоллский, корнийский
ogre - великан-людоед (в сказках), страшный человек
gruff - грубый; неприветливый, сердитый, хриплый (о голосе)
prosecute for - преследовать в судебном или уголовном порядке
cloak - плащ; мантия
chimney-pot - колпак дымовой трубы
rattle - грохот; дребезжание; стук || грохотать; дребезжать; стучать
slate - шифер; шиферная плита
linnet - коноплянка (птица)
casement - оконная створка
twitter - щебет, щебетание, чирикать, щебетать
steal up (steal up on) - подкрасться к (чему-л.)
fling - flung - бросаться, кидаться, ринуться
bid - приветствовать (кого-л. определёнными словами) ; обращаться с пожеланием (доброго утра, доброго дня и т. п.)
feeble - немощный, слабосильный, хилый
hasten - спешить, торопиться

Здесь можно прослушать сказку "The Selfish Giant":

Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant"s garden.

"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.

"My own garden is my own garden," said the Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself." So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED

He was a very selfish Giant.

Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. "Spring has forgotten this garden," they cried, "so we will live here all the year round." The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. "This is a delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on a visit." So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.

"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant"s garden she gave none. "He is too selfish," she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.

What did he see?

He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children"s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.

And the Giant"s heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children"s playground for ever and ever." He was really very sorry for what he had done.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.

"But where is your little companion?" he said: "the boy I put into the tree." The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.

"We don"t know," answered the children; "he has gone away."

"You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow," said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all."

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, "Who hath dared to wound thee?" For on the palms of the child"s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him."

"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of Love."

"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, "You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise."

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.