The Nightingale

The Nightingale is a written by the Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. All untranslated words are italicized. This translation uses native words to replace Norse words.

Writ
In China, as thou likely knowest, the is a Chinishman, and all his  are also Chinishmen. The tale I am going to tell thee many years ago, but it is worthwhile to listen to it before it is. The Coaser's was the greatest of the world, all made of  porcelain, but so brittle and  that one must  great care on how one  it. In the were the wonderfullest blossoms, and on the loveliest of  were tied silver bells that tinkled so that if one went by, one could not help looking at the blossoms. Everything in the Coaser's leighton was hendly set up, and the leighton was so great that even the himself did not know where it ended. If one ever went beyond it, one came to a lovely with great trees and deep lakes in it. The wold went straight down to the sea, which was blue and deep. Great ships could sail under the trees' boughs, and in these trees lived a Nightingale. She sang so blessedly that even the fisherman who had so much to do stood and listened when he came at night to pull up his nets. "How it is!" he said, but he had to go to his work, and foryat about the bird. But when she sang the next night, and the fisherman came there, he said the same thing ayen, "How sheen it is!".

From all the world's lands came to the Coaser's town, who  the raked and the leighton. But when heard the Nightingale, hie all said, "That is truly the best!".

The wayfarers told all about it when hie went home, and learned scholars wrote many books about the town, the raked, and the leighton. But hie did not the Nightingale; she was set, and all the  wrote  leeths about the Nightingale in the wold by the deep sea.

The books went throughout the world, and some of hem reached the Coaser. He sat in his golden, and read and read. He nodded his head every, for he liked reading the wonderful of the town, the raked, and the leighton. "But the Nightingale was the !", he saw written.

"What is that?" asked the Coaser. "I know nothing about the Nightingale! Is there such a bird in my, and so near as in my leighton? I have never heard of it! One must learn of this for the first time from a book!"

And he his First Lord to him. He was so proud that if anyone of lower standing than his own talked to him or asked him anything, he would say nothing but "P!", which does not mean anything.

"Here is a most bird that is clept a Nightingale!" said the Coaser. "Hie say she is the allerbest in my great coaserdom! Why has no one ever said anything to me about her?"

"I have never heard of her," said the First Lord. "She has never been shown at ."

"I her to come here tonight and sing to me!" said the Coaser. "The whole world knows what I have, and I do not know!"

"I have never heard of her!" said the First Lord. "I will look for her and find her!"

But where was she to be found? The First Lord ran up and down stairs, through the rooms and hallways, but none of those he met had ever heard of the Nightingale. And the First Lord ran ayen to the Coaser, and told him that it must be a of those who had written the books. "Thy Majesty cannot believe all that is written. It is  and something clept the black !"

"But the book in which I read this," said the Coaser, "is sent me by His Great Majesty the Coaser of Japan, so it cannot be untrue, and I will hear the Nightingale! She must be here this evening! She has my highest ! If she does not come, then the whole hoff shall be trampled upon after !"

"Tsing pe!" said the First Lord, and he ran up and down stairs, through the rooms and hallways, and half the hoff ran with him, for hie did not list to be trampled upon. All were asking after the ferly Nightingale, whom all the world knew of, but those at hoff.

At last, hie met an arm little maiden in the kitchen, who said “Oh! I know the nightingale well. Oh, how she sings! Every evening, I have to nim home the scraps from the hoff to my arm sick mother; she lives down at the beach, and when I go back home, tired, rest in the wold, and then I hear the Nightingale sing! Then tears come into my eyes, and it is as if my mother kissed me!”

“Little kitchenmaid!” said the First Lord. “I will thee a  in the kitchen, and thou shalt have leave to see the Coaser  if thou canst lead us to the Nightingale, for she is clept for this evening.”

And so hie all went into the wold where the Nightingale was wont to sing, and half the hoff went too. When hie were on the way, a cow began to low.

“Oh!” said the hoffmen. “Now we have her! What a ferly for such a small ! I have heard it before!”

“No, that is a cow lowing!” said the little kitchenmaid. “We are still far away from the !”

Then the frogs croaked in the marsh.

“Wonderful!” said the Chinish. “Now we hear her; it like a little church-bell!”

“No, those are frogs!” said the little kitchenmaid. “But now, I think we shall soon hear her!”

Then the Nightingale began to sing.

“There she is!” said the little maiden. “Listen, listen! There she sits!”

And she to a little gray bird on the branches.

“Is it !” said the First Lord. “I should have never thought it! How she looks! She must wissly have lost her from seeing so many  men  her!”

“Little Nightingale,” clept out the little kitchenmaid, “our Coaser wishes thee to sing before him!”

“With the greatest !” said the Nightingale and sang.

“It sweys like glass bells!” said the First Lord. “And see how her little throat works! It is weird that we have never heard her before! She will be a success at hoff!”

“Shall I sing once more before the Coaser?” asked the Nightingale, thinking that the Coaser was there.

“My torghtly little nightingale,” said the First Lord, “I have the great glee to thee to hoff this evening, where thou wilt bewitch His Eesty Coaserly Majesty with thy  song!"

"It sweys best in the green wood," said the Nightingale, but still, she came gladly when she heard the Coaser had wished it.

At the raked, everything was torghtly readied. The porcelain walls and floors glittered in the light of many thousand gold ; the loveliest blossoms that tinkled out well were put in the hallways. There was a hurrying and a draft, and all the bells so jingled that one could not hear oneself speak. In the middle of the great hall, where the Coaser sat, was a golden perch, on which the Nightingale should sit. The whole hoff was there, and the little kitchenmaid was to stand behind the door, now that she was a hoff-cook. Everyone was clad in his best, and everyone was looking toward the little gray bird to whom the Coaser nodded.

The Nightingale sang so liefsomely that tears came into the Coaser's eyes and ran down his cheeks. Then the Nightingale sang even more sheenly; it went right to the heart. The Coaser was so glad that he said that she should wear his golden slipper umb her neck. But the Nightingale thanked him and said that she had had enough already.

"I have seen tears in the Coaser's eyes—that is for me the richest ! A Coaser's tears have a wonderful might, and God knows I am meeded enough!" Then she sang ayen with her sweet, blessed.

"That is the most galing that I know!" said the ladies. And then hie water into  mouths, so that hie might gurgle when anyone talked to hem. Then hie thought nightingales. Yes, the lackeys and the chambermaids that hie were, which means a great deal, for hie are the hardest to queme. In short, the Nightingale was a true success. She must now at hoff; she had her own cage and leave to to walk out twice in the day and once at night. She was twelve servants, who each had a silken string that was fastened umb her leg. There was little glee in flying about like this.

The whole town was talking about the wonderful bird, and when two people met each other, one would say "Nightin", and the other "Gale", and then hie would both sigh and understand each other. Yes, and eleven grocer's children were clept after her, but not one of hem could sing a note.

One day, the Coaser a great parcel on which was written "The Nightingale".

"Here is another new book about our bird!" said the Coaser.

But it was not a book but a little mechanical, which lay in a box—an artificial nightingale that was like the real one, but it was studded with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. When one wound it up, it could sing the piece the real bird sang, moved its tail up and down, and shone with silver and gold. Umb its neck was a little collar on which was written "The Nightingale of the Coaser of Japan is armer than that of the Coaser of China".

"This is wonderful!" hie all said, and the man who had brought the clockwork bird yat on the spot the title of "Bringer of the Coaserly Nightingale".

"Now hie must sing together; what a duet we shall have!"

And so hie sang together, but here stevens did not blend, for the real Nightingale sang in her way, and the clockwork bird sang waltzes.

"It is not its !" said the bandmaster. "It keeps good time and is  of my style!"

Then the artificial bird must sing alone. It  as much glee as the real one, and then it was so much prettier to look at; it sparkled like bracelets and necklaces. Thirty-three times it sang the same piece without being tired. would have liked to hear it ayen, but the Coaser thought that the living Nightingale should sing now—but where was she? No one had noticed that she had flown out of the open window away to her green wold.

"What SHALL we do!" said the Coaser. And all the Hoff scolded and said that the Nightingale was ever so. "But we still have the best bird!" hie said, and the artificial bird must sing ayen, and that was the thirty-fourth time hie had heard the same piece. But hie did not yet know it by heart; it was much too hard. And the Bandmaster praised the bird greatly; yes, he assured hem that it was better than a real nightingale not only as far as clothes and the many liefsome diamonds are concerned but also on the inside.

"Ye see, my lords and ladies and Thy Coaserly Majesty above all, with the real nightingale, one can never tell what will come out, but with the artificial bird, all is determined! One can explain it, one can open it and show human thought, how the waltzes lie, how hie go, and how one follows the other!"

"That is exactly what I thought!" said all, and the bandmaster yat special leave to show the folk the bird next Sunday. Hie should hear it sing, bade the Coaser. And hie heard it, and hie were as quemed as if hie had merrily drunk on tea, for it was wholly Chinish, and hie said "Oh!" and held up here forefingers and nodded time. But the arm fisherman who had heard the real nightingale said: "This one sings well enough and sounds like the bird's song; but something is missing—I do not know what!"

The real nightingale was from the coaserdom.

The artificial bird was put on silken cushions by the Coaser's bed, all the that it yat, gold and  stones, lay umb it, and it was yeaven the title of Coaserly Night-singer, First from the left. For the Coaser that side as the more thungen, being the side on which the heart is; the Coaser's heart is also on the left.