安徒生童话读后感英文

由richartroy 分享时间：2024-01-06 12:01:20 收藏本文

【简介】感谢网友“richartroy”参与投稿，下面小编给大家整理的安徒生童话读后感英文（共12篇），欢迎阅读!

篇1：安徒生童话读后感英文

读了《安徒生童话》，我不禁感叹道：好书!

童话是幻想，它不是神话故事，也不是民间传说。它立足于现实生活，在现实生活的基础上又充满了人类美好人性的现象和愿望，这些作品以其异乎寻常的艺术魅力震撼了世界论坛，揭开了世界文学史上童话创作的新篇章。

我印象最深的是《海的女儿》这篇童话，《海的女儿》是安徒生童话宝库的珠玑，文章中的那种势不可挡的精彩令人难以忘怀，也使人回味无穷。

《安徒生童话》也是一本很有意义的书。其实我们都知道，书中的上帝，就是“爱”与“正义”的化身，但事实上这种“希望”在当时的现实生活是不可能实现的，相反只会加深苦恼。

安徒生在他的作品中所表现出的特有气质、天真朴素的激情和富裕沉思的哲学脾性，与中国的文化传统不无相通之处，像许多古今中外优秀的文学作品一样。

《安徒生童话》真是一本好书!

(一)

I didn't read fairy tales of children For a long time, when drop “Anderson fairy tale, so surprised himself unexpectedly so fascinating finished reading the book. Although books have lay quietly on the desktop, can with them or cute, or cunning man has in my mind flick scattered not go. The deepest impression, some too ”the daughter of the sea“, ”a beautiful mermaid, fell in love with a prince, for him, put aside the sea at the freedom of living, throw away love her sisters, I lost my voice, and become a normal person. But unfortunately the prince had love princess, mermaid helpless into foam disappeared. The mermaid although pitiful, but his mind was precious to the prince, that copy of pure heart, who is now a rare. Regardless of the outcome, no matter face what happened, everyone should have simple sincere heart, and effort, bravely pursuit, learning or life, only the effort man can succeed. Fairy tale, while just false, but it's better to tell us, everything is possible, let us like the daughter of the sea is same, unremitting struggle, eventually can obtain brilliant.

篇2：安徒生童话读后感英文

哈、哈、哈……”一阵笑声从一个小女孩儿的嘴里传了出来，她就是我，你们知道这是为什么吗?我给你们说一本书，你就知道了。它就是我的好伙伴——《安徒生童话》。你别看它是小小的本书，其实里面记录了“喜、怒、哀、乐”各种情感和美好。

这本书里面我印象最深的就数“海的女儿”了。这个故事里的小美人鱼，为了王子和公主的幸福，不惜自己变成美丽的泡沫，去了天国。虽然她是那么爱王子，为了王子她却把美妙的嗓音都失去了，可她还是无怨无悔。这本书不止这一个故事，还有可爱的白雪公主、勤劳善良的灰姑娘、英俊的王子、慈祥的老爷爷、老奶奶……

《安徒生童话》是一本好书，一本美好的好书，一本美好又具有教育意义的好书。我希望我们不要白读书，要读的精彩读的出色!

篇3：安徒生童话英文读后感

篇4：安徒生童话英文读后感

There are many parts I like:“The Ugly Duckling” tells of a homely little bird born in a barnyard who suffers abuse from his surroundings until, much to his delight （and to the surprise of others）， he matures into a beautiful swan, the most beautiful bird of all. The story is beloved around the world as a tale about personal transformation for the better.“ The Angel”?, which about an angel and a dead child gathering flowers to carry to Heaven, reminds us of the punishment which we would accumulate on the ill-use and under-use of our talents and situations.

“The Little Mermaid lifted her glorified eyes towards the sun, and felt them, for the first time, filling with tears.” The Mermaid's sacrifice is not incidental, or because she made the mistake of loving a human, or because she wanted a soul, or be a complete human, or as her final rite of passage.

Obviously ,as human beings and ‘children of God’， we should possess the essential goodness. ()The fairy tales show us about the importance of kindness, of perseverance, of obedience which we should follow in life.

I love the theme of Andersen's Fairy tales : ”There is no love greater than this: That someone gives his life for his friend.“ It also points out the importance of wisdom in a person's life. we can see more important aspects of life.

篇5：安徒生童话英文

A Rose from Homer's Grave荷马墓上的一朵玫瑰

by Hans Christian Andersen(1842)

ALL the songs of the east speak of the love of the nightingale for the rose in the silent starlight night. The winged songster serenades the fragrant flowers.

Not far from Smyrna， where the merchant drives his loaded camels， proudly arching their long necks as they journey beneath the lofty pines over holy ground， I saw a hedge of roses. The turtle-dove flew among the branches of the tall trees， and as the sunbeams fell upon her wings， they glistened as if they were mother-of-pearl. On the rose-bush GREw a flower， more beautiful than them all， and to her the nightingale sung of his woes; but the rose remained silent， not even a dewdrop lay like a tear of sympathy on her leaves. At last she bowed her head over a heap of stones， and said， “Here rests the greatest singer in the world; over his tomb will I spread my fragrance， and on it I will let my leaves fall when the storm scatters them. He who sung of Troy became earth， and from that earth I have sprung. I， a rose from the grave of Homer， am too lofty to bloom for a nightingale.” Then the nightingale sung himself to death. A camel-driver came by， with his loaded camels and his black slaves; his little son found the dead bird， and buried the lovely songster in the grave of the great Homer， while the rose trembled in the wind.

the evening came， and the rose wrapped her leaves more closely round her， and dreamed： and this was her dream.

It was a fair sunshiny day; a crowd of strangers drew near who had undertaken a pilgrimage to the grave of Homer. Among the strangers was a minstrel from the north， the home of the clouds and the brilliant lights of the aurora borealis. He plucked the rose and placed it in a book， and carried it away into a distant part of the world， his fatherland. The rose faded with grief， and lay between the leaves of the book， which he opened in his own home， saying， “Here is a rose from the grave of Homer.”

then the flower awoke from her dream， and trembled in the wind. A drop of dew fell from the leaves upon the singer's grave. The sun rose， and the flower bloomed more beautiful than ever. The day was hot， and she was still in her own warm Asia. Then footsteps approached， strangers， such as the rose had seen in her dream， came by， and among them was a poet from the north; he plucked the rose， pressed a kiss upon her fresh mouth， and carried her away to the home of the clouds and the northern lights. Like a mummy， the flower now rests in his “Iliad，” and， as in her dream， she hears him say， as he opens the book， “Here is a rose from the grave of Homer.”

篇6：安徒生童话英文

the Shepherd's Story of the Bond of Friendship

by Hans Christian Andersen(1842)

the little dwelling in which we lived was of clay， but the door-posts were columns of fluted marble， found near the spot on which it stood. The roof sloped nearly to the ground. It was at this time dark， brown， and ugly， but had originally been formed of blooming olive and laurel branches， brought from beyond the mountains. The house was situated in a narrow gorge， whose rocky walls rose to a perpendicular height， naked and black， while round their summits clouds often hung， looking like white living figures. Not a singing bird was ever heard there， neither did men dance to the sound of the pipe. The spot was one sacred to olden times; even its name recalled a memory of the days when it was called “Delphi.” Then the summits of the dark， sacred mountains were covered with snow， and the highest， mount Parnassus， glowed longest in the red evening light. The brook which rolled from it near our house， was also sacred. How well I can remember every spot in that deep， sacred solitude! A fire had been kindled in the midst of the hut， and while the hot ashes lay there red and glowing， the bread was baked in them. At times the snow would be piled so high around our hut as almost to hide it， and then my mother appeared most cheerful. She would hold my head between her hands， and sing the songs she never sang at other times， for the Turks， our masters， would not allow it. She sang，—

“On the summit of mount Olympus， in a forest of dwarf firs， lay an old stag. His eyes were heavy with tears， and glittering with colors like dewdrops; and there came by a roebuck， and said， 'What ailest thee， that thou weepest blue and red tears?' And the stag answered， 'The Turk has come to our city; he has wild dogs for the chase， a goodly pack.' 'I will drive them away across the islands!' cried the young roebuck; 'I will drive them away across the islands into the deep sea.' But before evening the roebuck was slain， and before night the hunted stag was dead.”

And when my mother sang thus， her eyes would become moist; and on the long eyelashes were tears， but she concealed them and watched the black bread baking in the ashes. Then I would clench my fist， and cry， “We will kill these Turks!” But she repeated the words of the song， “I will drive them across the islands to the deep sea; but before evening came the roebuck was slain， and before the night the hunted stag was dead.”

We had been lonely in our hut for several days and nights when my father came home. I knew he would bring me some shells from the gulf of Lepanto， or perhaps a knife with a shining blade. This time he brought， under his sheep-skin cloak， a little child， a little half-naked girl. She was wrapped in a fur; but when this was taken off， and she lay in my mother's lap， three silver coins were found fastened in her dark hair; they were all her possessions. My father told us that the child's parents had been killed by the Turks， and he talked so much about them that I dreamed of Turks all night. He himself had been wounded， and my mother bound up his arm. It was a deep wound， and the thick sheep-skin cloak was stiff with congealed blood. The little maiden was to be my sister. How pretty and bright she looked： even my mother's eyes were not more gentle than hers. Anastasia， as she was called， was to be my sister， because her father had been united to mine by an old custom， which we still follow. They had sworn brotherhood in their youth， and the most beautiful and virtuous maiden in the neighborhood was chosen to perform the act of consecration upon this bond of friendship. So now this little girl was my sister. She sat in my lap， and I brought her flowers， and feathers from the birds of the mountain. We drank together of the waters of Parnassus， and dwelt for many years beneath the laurel roof of the hut， while， winter after winter， my mother sang her song of the stag who shed red tears. But as yet I did not understand that the sorrows of my own countrymen were mirrored in those tears.

One day there came to our hut Franks， men from a far country， whose dress was different to ours. They had tents and beds with them， carried by horses; and they were accompanied by more than twenty Turks， all armed with swords and muskets. These Franks were friends of the Pacha， and had letters from him， commanding an escort for them. They only came to see our mountain， to ascend Parnassus amid the snow and clouds， and to look at the strange black rocks which raised their steep sides near our hut. They could not find room in the hut， nor endure the smoke that rolled along the ceiling till it found its way out at the low door; so they pitched their tents on a small space outside our dwelling. Roasted lambs and birds were brought forth， and strong， sweet wine， of which the Turks are forbidden to partake.

When they departed， I accompanied them for some distance， carrying my little sister Anastasia， wrapped in a goat-skin， on my back. One of the Frankish gentlemen made me stand in front of a rock， and drew us both as we stood there， so that we looked like one creature. I did not think of it then， but Anastasia and I were really one. She was always sitting on my lap， or riding in the goat-skin on my back; and in my dreams she always appeared to me.

Two nights after this， other men， armed with knives and muskets， came into our tent. They were Albanians， brave men， my mother told me. They only stayed a short time. My sister Anastasia sat on the knee of one of them; and when they were gone， she had not three， but two silver coins in her hair—one had disappeared. They wrapped tobacco in strips of paper， and smoked it; and I remember they were uncertain as to the road they ought to take. But they were obliged to go at last， and my father went with them. Soon after， we heard the sound of firing. The noise continued， and presently soldiers rushed into our hut， and took my mother and myself and Anastasia prisoners. They declared that we had entertained robbers， and that my father had acted as their guide， and therefore we must now go with them. The corpses of the robbers， and my father's corpse， were brought into the hut. I saw my poor dead father， and cried till I fell asleep. When I awoke， I found myself in a prison; but the room was not worse than our own in the hut. They gave me onions and musty wine from a tarred cask; but we were not accustomed to much better fare at home. How long we were kept in prison， I do not know; but many days and nights passed by. We were set free about Easter-time. I carried Anastasia on my back， and we walked very slowly; for my mother was very weak， and it is a long way to the sea， to the Gulf of Lepanto.

On our arrival， we entered a church， in which there were beautiful pictures in golden frames. They were pictures of angels， fair and bright; and yet our little Anastasia looked equally beautiful， as it seemed to me. In the centre of the floor stood a coffin filled with roses. My mother told me it was the Lord Jesus Christ who was represented by these roses. Then the priest announced， “Christ is risen，” and all the people GREeted each other. Each one carried a burning taper in his hand， and one was given to me， as well as to little Anastasia. The music sounded， and the people left the church hand-in-hand， with joy and gladness. Outside， the women were roasting the paschal lamb. We were invited to partake; and as I sat by the fire， a boy， older than myself， put his arms round my neck， and kissed me， and said， “Christ is risen.” And thus it was that for the first time I met Aphtanides.

篇7：安徒生童话英文

欢乐家庭the HAPPY FAMILY

Really， the largest GREen leaf in this country is a dockleaf; if one holds it before one， it is like a whole apron， and if one holds it over one's head in rainy weather， it is almost as good as an umbrella， for it is so immensely large. The burdock never grows alone， but where there grows one there always grow several： it is a great delight， and all this delightfulness is snails' food. The great white snails which persons of quality in former times made fricassees of， ate， and said， ”Hem， hem! how delicious!“ for they thought it tasted so delicate——lived on dockleaves， and therefore burdock seeds were sown.

Now， there was an old manor-house， where they no longer ate snails， they were quite extinct; but the burdocks were not extinct， they GREw and grew all over the walks and all the beds; they could not get the mastery over them——it was a whole forest of burdocks. Here and there stood an apple and a plum-tree， or else one never would have thought that it was a garden; all was burdocks， and there lived the two last venerable old snails.

they themselves knew not how old they were， but they could remember very well that there had been many more; that they were of a family from foreign lands， and that for them and theirs the whole forest was planted. They had never been outside it， but they knew that there was still something more in the world， which was called the manor-house， and that there they were boiled， and then they became black， and were then placed on a silver dish; but what happened further they knew not; or， in fact， what it was to be boiled， and to lie on a silver dish， they could not possibly imagine; but it was said to be delightful， and particularly genteel. Neither the chafers， the toads， nor the earth-worms， whom they asked about it could give them any information——none of them had been boiled or laid on a silver dish.

the old white snails were the first persons of distinction in the world， that they knew; the forest was planted for their sake， and the manor-house was there that they might be boiled and laid on a silver dish.

Now they lived a very lonely and happy life; and as they had no children themselves， they had adopted a little common snail， which they brought up as their own; but the little one would not grow， for he was of a common family; but the old ones， especially Dame Mother Snail， thought they could observe how he increased in size， and she begged father， if he could not see it， that he would at least feel the little snail's shell; and then he felt it， and found the good dame was right.

One day there was a heavy storm of rain.

”Hear how it beats like a drum on the dock-leaves!“ said Father Snail.

”there are also rain-drops!“ said Mother Snail. ”And now the rain pours right down the stalk! You will see that it will be wet here! I am very happy to think that we have our good house， and the little one has his also! There is more done for us than for all other creatures， sure enough; but can you not see that we are folks of quality in the world? We are provided with a house from our birth， and the burdock forest is planted for our sakes! I should like to know how far it extends， and what there is outside!“

”there is nothing at all，“ said Father Snail. ”No place can be better than ours， and I have nothing to wish for!“

”Yes，“ said the dame. ”I would willingly go to the manorhouse， be boiled， and laid on a silver dish; all our forefathers have been treated so; there is something extraordinary in it， you may be sure!“

”the manor-house has most likely fallen to ruin!“ said Father Snail. ”Or the burdocks have grown up over it， so that they cannot come out. There need not， however， be any haste about that; but you are always in such a tremendous hurry， and the little one is beginning to be the same. Has he not been creeping up that stalk these three days? It gives me a headache when I look up to him!“

”You must not scold him，“ said Mother Snail. ”He creeps so carefully; he will afford us much pleasure——and we have nothing but him to live for! But have you not thought of it? Where shall we get a wife for him? Do you not think that there are some of our species at a GREat distance in the interior of the burdock forest?“

”Black snails， I dare say， there are enough of，“ said the old one. ”Black snails without a house——but they are so common， and so conceited. But we might give the ants a commission to look out for us; they run to and fro as if they had something to do， and they certainly know of a wife for our little snail!“

”I know one， sure enough——the most charming one!“ said one of the ants. ”But I am afraid we shall hardly succeed， for she is a queen!“

”That is nothing!“ said the old folks. ”Has she a house?“

”She has a palace!“ said the ant. ”The finest ant's palace， with seven hundred passages!“

”I thank you!“ said Mother Snail. ”Our son shall not go into an ant-hill; if you know nothing better than that， we shall give the commission to the white gnats. They fly far and wide， in rain and sunshine; they know the whole forest here， both within and without.“

”We have a wife for him，“ said the gnats. ”At a hundred human paces from here there sits a little snail in her house， on a gooseberry bush; she is quite lonely， and old enough to be married. It is only a hundred human paces!“

”Well， then， let her come to him!“ said the old ones. ”He has a whole forest of burdocks， she has only a bush!\"

And so they went and fetched little Miss Snail. It was a whole week before she arrived; but therein was just the very best of it， for one could thus see that she was of the same species.

And then the marriage was celebrated. Six earth-worms shone as well as they could. In other respects the whole went off very quietly， for the old folks could not bear noise and merriment; but old Dame Snail made a brilliant speech. Father Snail could not speak， he was too much affected; and so they gave them as a dowry and inheritance， the whole forest of burdocks， and said——what they had always said——that it was the best in the world; and if they lived honestly and decently， and increased and multiplied， they and their children would once in the course of time come to the manor-house， be boiled black， and laid on silver dishes. After this speech was made， the old ones crept into their shells， and never more came out. They slept; the young couple governed in the forest， and had a numerous progeny， but they were never boiled， and never came on the silver dishes; so from this they concluded that the manor-house had fallen to ruins， and that all the men in the world were extinct; and as no one contradicted them， so， of course it was so. And the rain beat on the dock-leaves to make drum-music for their sake， and the sun shone in order to give the burdock forest a color for their sakes; and they were very happy， and the whole family was happy; for they， indeed were so.

篇8：《安徒生童话》读后感

我看过许多课外，《安徒生童话》这本书就像一块“强力磁铁”，深深地把我吸引。看了一篇童话又一篇童话，我仿佛进入了一个美妙的童话世界：有小如拇指的人，卖火柴的小女孩和坚强的锡兵……

很快我就被《卖火柴的小女孩》这个故事深深的打动了。下着鹅毛大雪的晚上，一个小女孩在外面卖火柴，在擦亮火柴之后，小女孩看到了她觉得很美好的事物：雄雄燃烧的火炉、丰盛的大餐、疼爱她的奶奶，和一颗漂亮的圣诞树。当时可怜的小女孩是多么希望有人能帮帮她呀，可是没有一个人来买她的火柴，没有一个人来帮助她，在又冷又饿的夜晚，可怜的小女孩被冻死了。如果当时有人能给帮帮这个小女孩，故事的结果就不是想这样让人看了这么心酸了。现在的我们是吃的饱穿得暖，还有疼爱自己的亲人，生活是如此的幸福。当自己拥有美好的时候也不要忘了那些需要帮助的人，尽自己的力量去做些好事吧。

《皇帝的新装》这个故事是说两个骗子给皇帝做衣服，骗子告诉皇帝“这衣服只有聪明的人才能看见”，周围的人都怕自己会被别人认为是笨蛋，就连皇帝自己也怕别人这样认为自己是笨蛋，他也自欺欺人的什么也没穿就出来了，没成为聪明人反而成了别人的笑柄。世故的大人们没一个人告诉皇帝，也不敢说出来，却被一个天真的小孩说出了真相。从这个故事中我知道了生活中不能让你的虚荣心蒙蔽了你的双眼，敢于讲真话讲实话，做个诚实的人。

童话是令人向往的，童话故事里蕴含着深刻的道理。我不光要读《安徒生童话》，还要在书的海洋里继续遨游，努力学习，不断成长。

篇9：《安徒生童话》读后感

《安徒生童话》这本书我非常喜欢看，因为书里的故事都写得很生动，很有趣，让我最印象深刻的故事有：

01、野天鹅

小妹妹为了把哥哥们的咒语解除，受了许多苦难，好不容易把哥哥们的咒语解除。我们应该学习小妹妹迎难而上，最终战胜困难的精神和帮助哥哥的好品格。

02、海的女儿

美人鱼公主为了与英俊的王子在一起快乐生活，她经历了许多痛苦，但最终却一无所获，最后变成了海上的泡沫。是因为善良的美人鱼公主为了救王子而甘愿牺牲自己的生命，让我学到了牺牲自己去帮助自己最心爱的朋友也是值得的。

03、豌豆上的公主

有一位王子，为了辨认一位公主到底是不是真正的公主，就想出了一个有趣的办法。

04、拇指姑娘

我觉得小姑娘小小的样子很天真、很可爱、很有趣，而且读来很令人着迷、动容。

当然，《安徒生童话》这本书里还有许多其它的很有意思的故事，总之，我非常喜欢看这本书。

篇10：安徒生童话读后感

《安徒生童话》是一部立足于现实的故事，在现实生活的基础上又充满人类美好的愿望，这些作品以独特的艺术魅力震撼了世界文坛，打开了世界文化史上童话创作的新篇章。

作者用诗意的语言给读者们打开了童话世界的大门，它引领我前往世间的真善美，文章中的精彩内容令我回味无穷。其中《卖火柴的小女孩》篇章中叙述了一个柔弱的小女孩在圣诞节的前夜卖火柴，最终被冻死的故事。一个本该衣食无忧、开心学习的小女孩却在圣诞节前夜独自在街头卖火柴，为什么会出现如此不幸的事情？安徒生借助小女孩的不幸，来批判整个世界的黑暗，并告诉现在的孩子们要珍惜自己眼前美好的生活。而《丑小鸭》这篇美妙的童话，教会了我们如何坚强，如何自信，如何通过自己的勤奋去获得成功。

在篇章中我能可以看出安徒生对大自然的爱，安徒生对贫民的同情，安徒生对于亲情的珍视。爱是童话故事的核心，爱是一条主线，贯穿人间的真善美，这正是《安徒生童话》的魅力所在。

篇11：《安徒生童话》读后感

暑假里，我读了《安徒生童话》这本书，书中每个故事都令我惊叹不已，有可爱的丑小鸭，美丽的拇指姑娘，高贵的美人鱼以及坚定的锡兵等，每个主人公的精神都令我感动，但感触最深的是《卖火柴的小女孩》这个故事，那精彩的内容时刻告诉我，我有多么幸福！

这个故事讲了大雪纷飞的大年夜里，一个贫穷的小女孩光着脚在卖火柴。在她冷得受不了的时候，她点燃了一根火柴，看见了温暖的火炉；接着她又点燃了一根火柴，看见了冒着香气的烤鹅；当她点燃第三根火柴的时候，看见了美丽的圣诞树；最后她点燃火柴的时候，看见了最疼爱她的已去世的奶奶，奶奶带着她去了“天堂”。读到这里，我泪流满面，小女孩的愿望是多么简单，她只想有家、有吃的、有家人的陪伴，可是这简单的愿望却实现不了，最后还是被活活的冻死了。

想想现在的我们，有家人的关爱，老师的关心，同学的友爱，有温暖的家和宽敞的教室，真是幸福极了！和卖火柴的小女孩相比，同样是儿童，而我是多么的幸运，我一定要好好珍惜这幸福快乐的童年，好好的学习知识，学习本领，去圆我那五彩缤纷的梦。

篇12：《安徒生童话》读后感

我读过很多的书，其中我最喜欢《安徒生童话》。《安徒生童话》里的故事有的给人以欢乐，有的给人以恐惧，还有的给人以悲伤。

前两天，我读了《卖火柴的小女孩》，心中悲伤不已。这篇文章写了这样一个故事：那是一个大雪纷飞的夜晚，周围很安静，她穿着破破的衣服，披着一头卷卷的、美丽的金色头发，一双乌黑明亮的眼睛，她的脸和手都冻僵了，嘴里还说着：“卖火柴，卖火柴。”但是回答她的只有风声。读到这里，我的心情很难过，别人都有新衣服穿，有好吃的东西，而她什么都没有，也没有人帮助他。最后，小女孩冻死在大街上。

这时妈妈叫我吃饭，我放下书，来到客厅，看见桌子上有很多好吃的菜，不禁想起了卖火柴的小女孩，顿时没了胃口。

小朋友们，我们现在的生活是多么幸福，我们一定要懂得珍惜啊！