1946 edition, several reprints.Journey to Wonderland and through the Looking Glass with Alice. Meet the unforgettable characters of these two magical books, collected in one volume: the White Rabbit, the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat, Tweedledee and ...
dledee and Tweedledum, and many others. Nothing is ordinary in the surprising worlds Alice finds herself in! Lewis Carroll's (1832-1898) popular books about Alice marked a turning point in children's literature--for the first time, children's stories were primarily for fun, rather than for instruction or moralizing.
Should I be sorry I didn't read it when I was a child? Maybe. I would have probably dived more in Wonderland and felt the awe for the bizarre characters and situations. Maybe not. I couldn't have read it in English and I wouldn't have appreciated
..." what I think is at the same time the best part of the book: the return to childhood and the importance of keeping alive the child inside us. This said, Carroll is a precursor of psychedelia. I would love to see the Cheshire Cat singing "Alice in the sky with diamonds".Continua...Nascondi
Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:Thus slowly, one by one,Its quaint events were hammered out--And now the tale is done,And home we steer, a merry crew,Beneath the setting sun.Alice! a childish story take,And with a gentle handLay it where
...", And with a gentle hand Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined In Memory's mystic band, Like pilgrim's withered wreath of flowers Plucked in a far-off land.Continua...Nascondi
Child of the pure unclouded browAnd dreaming eyes of wonder!Though time be fleet, and I and thouAre half a life asunder,Thy loving smile will surely hailThe love-gift of a fairy-tale.I have not seen thy sunny face,Nor heard thy silver laughter;No
...ce, Nor heard thy silver laughter; No thought of me shall find a place In thy young life's hereafter - Enough that now thou wilt not fail To listen to my fairy-tale.
A tale begun in other days, When summer suns were glowing - A simple chime, that served to time The rhythm of our rowing - Whose echoes live in memory yet, Though envious years would say 'forget'.
Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread, With bitter tidings laden, Shall summon to unwelcome bed A melancholy maiden! We are but older children, dear, Who fret to find our bedtime near.
Without, the frost, the blinding snow, The storm-wind's moody madness - Within, the firelight's ruddy glow, And childhood's nest of gladness. The magic words shall hold thee fast: Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.
And though the shadow of a sigh May tremble through the story, For 'happy summer days' gone by, And vanish'd summer glory - It shall not touch with breath of bale The pleasance of our fairy-tale. Continua...Nascondi
Bimba dalla fronte pura e limpida e occhi sognanti di meraviglia! Sebbene il tempo é lesto, ed io e te siamo separati da troppo tempo, il tuo amabile sorriso certo accoglierà il pegno d'amore di una storia incantata.
Non ho più visto il tuo viso solare, né inteso le tua risa d'argento; non avrò più un posto nella tua giovane vita d'ora innanzi. Ma mi basta che ora non mancherai di ascoltare la mia storia incantata.
Una storia ebbe inizio in altri tempi, quando il sole estivo avvampava - un semplice campanello che servì a scandire il ritmo del nostro vogare - e il suo eco vive tuttora nella memoria, sebbene gli anni invidiosi suggeriscono di dimenticare.
Vieni, fa attenzione, presto voci di terrore, cariche di notizie amare, convocheranno in un freddo giaciglio una malinconica fanciulla! Non siamo che bambini invecchiati, cara, che s'agitano aspettando l'ora di coricarsi.
Fuori, il gelo, la neve accecante, la lunatica follia della tempesta - dentro, divampa la rossa fiamma, e il nido di felicità dell'infanzia. Le magia delle parole resterà salda: non prestare ascolto al delirio del vento.
E anche se l'ombra di un sospiro potrebbe tremolare lungo il racconto, perché i felici giorni estivi, l'estate gloriosa sono svaniti - questo non toccherà col soffio del dolore il fiore segreto della nostra storia incantata.
"YOU are old, Father William," the young man said,"And your hair has become very white;And yet you incessantly stand on your headDo you think, at your age, it is right?" "In my youth," Father William replied to his son,"I feared it might
...is son, "I feared it might injure the brain; But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again."
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before, And have grown most uncommonly fat; Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door Pray, what is the reason of that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks, "I kept all my limbs very supple By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box -- Allow me to sell you a couple?"
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak For anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak-- Pray, how did you manage to do it?"
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife; And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose That your eye was as steady as ever; Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose-- What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough," Said his father; "don't give yourself airs! Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs!"
Fury said to a mouse, that he met in the house: "Let us both go to law: I will prosecute YOU.Come, I'll take no denial;we must have a trial:For really this morningI've nothing to do.Said the mouse to the cur,"Such a trial, dear Sir,with no jury or
...se to the cur, "Such a trial, dear Sir, with no jury or judge, would be wasting our breathe".
"I'll be judge, I'll be jury," said cunning old Fury: "I'll try the whole cause, and condemn you to death". Continua...Nascondi
Furore disse al topo, incontrandolo a casa sua: "Andiamo in tribunale: intenterò una causa contro di te. Vieni, non accetto rifiuti; dobbiamo andar in giudizio: non ho niente da fare per tutta la mattina." Rispose il topo al cagnaccio, "Ma quale giudizio, mio caro signore, senza giudice né giurato, sprecheremmo il fiato". "Io sarò giudice e giurato" disse il vecchio e astuto Furore: "Prima intento la causa, poi ti condanno a morte!"
'Perhaps it doesn't understand English' thought Alice 'I daresay it's a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror'. So she began again: 'Ou est ma chatte?' which was the first sentence in her French lesson book.
' Forse non capisce l'inglese ' pensò Alice ' Potrebbe essere un topo francese, arrivato quassù (in Inghilterra) con Guglielmo il Conquistatore '. E così riattaccò: ' Dov'è la mia gatta? che era la prima frase sul suo libro di francese.