Welcome to The Nightingale by Hans Christian Andersen.

Hans Christian Andersen was a famous Danish writer. He wrote many wonderful fairy tales that children around the world still enjoy today. The Nightingale is one of his most famous stories.

This book has been rewritten for children who are learning English. It uses simple words and short sentences, so it is easy for A2-level learners to read and understand.

In this story, you will meet a little bird with a beautiful voice and an emperor who learns that kindness, freedom, and true beauty are more important than gold and jewels.

We hope this story helps you enjoy reading and improve your English.

This story was rewritten by bestchildrenstories.com for English learners. The story is in the public domain, so it is free from copyright.

The Nightingale

By Hans Christian Andersen

Contents

Chapter 1 – The Wonderful Bird in the Forest

Chapter 2 – The Nightingale at the Palace

Chapter 3 – The Mechanical Nightingale

Chapter 4 – The Broken Mechanical Bird

Chapter 5 – The Nightingale Returns

Vocabulary

Comprehension Questions

Grammar Exercises

Chapter One

The Wonderful Bird in the Forest

Long ago, there was a great emperor in China. He lived in the most beautiful palace in the country. The palace was made of fine white porcelain. In the morning, the walls shone brightly under the sun. At night, hundreds of colorful lanterns lit every room. Visitors from many countries came to see this wonderful place.

Around the palace was a large garden. It was full of bright flowers, green trees, clear lakes, and quiet paths. Some flowers had tiny silver bells hanging from them. When the wind blew, the little bells made soft music. The sound was light and sweet. Many visitors stopped walking just to listen.

The garden was so large that even the palace gardeners did not know where it ended. Beyond the garden stood a deep green forest. Tall trees reached toward the sky, and birds sang happily in their branches. Beyond the forest was the blue sea, where fishermen worked every day.

In that peaceful forest lived a small grey bird.

She was a nightingale.

The nightingale was not beautiful to look at. She did not have bright feathers like parrots. She did not have a long colorful tail like a peacock. She looked like an ordinary little bird.

But when she opened her beak and began to sing, everything changed.

Her voice was soft, clear, and full of feeling. Every song sounded different. Sometimes her music was happy like children playing in a field. Sometimes it was quiet like the evening wind. Sometimes it was so beautiful that people forgot everything around them.

Every evening, the fishermen heard her singing while they worked on the sea.

One old fisherman always stopped rowing his boat.

“Listen,” he said with a smile.

“The nightingale is singing again.”

The other fishermen became quiet.

For a few moments, nobody worked.

They only listened.

When the song finished, the old fisherman looked toward the forest.

“That little bird has the most beautiful voice in the world,” he said.

Then everyone smiled and returned to work.

People from many countries visited the emperor’s city every year.

They admired the white palace.

They walked through the wonderful garden.

They enjoyed the blue sea.

But before they returned home, they all wanted to hear one thing.

The nightingale.

After hearing her song, they always said the same words.

“The nightingale is the greatest treasure in China.”

Many visitors wrote books about their journeys.

They described the emperor’s palace.

They described the beautiful gardens.

They described the rich city.

But every book also spoke about the little grey bird with the magical voice.

One day, one of these books arrived at the emperor’s palace.

The emperor liked reading about his own country.

He smiled proudly as he turned the pages.

“My palace is famous,” he said.

“My gardens are beautiful.”

“My people have done excellent work.”

Then he read one sentence that made him stop.

“The most wonderful thing in China is the nightingale.”

The emperor read the sentence again.

Then a third time.

Finally, he closed the book.

“The nightingale?” he said quietly.

“What is that?”

He looked surprised.

“I know everything in my country.”

“I know every important person.”

“I know every beautiful building.”

“But I have never heard about this bird.”

He quickly rang a small golden bell.

A servant hurried into the room.

He bowed deeply.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

The emperor held up the book.

“Tell me about the nightingale.”

The servant looked confused.

“The nightingale?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“The bird with the wonderful song.”

The servant thought for a moment.

Then he slowly shook his head.

“I am very sorry, Your Majesty.”

“I have never heard of her.”

The emperor frowned.

“How is that possible?”

“People from all over the world know this bird.”

“They write books about her.”

“But nobody in my palace knows anything.”

He stood up from his golden chair.

“I want to hear the nightingale sing tonight.”

The servant bowed again.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I will find her.”

The servant hurried through the palace.

He asked the ministers.

He asked the musicians.

He asked the soldiers.

He asked the gardeners.

He even asked the palace cooks.

But everyone gave the same answer.

“We have never heard of the nightingale.”

When the servant returned, he looked worried.

“I am sorry, Your Majesty.”

“I cannot find the bird.”

The emperor became angry.

“You cannot find the most famous bird in my country?”

The servant felt cold with fear.

He knew the emperor expected success.

Then an idea came into his mind.

“We have only searched inside the palace.”

“I will search outside the city.”

The emperor nodded.

“Go immediately.”

This time, many servants went with him.

They walked through busy streets.

They visited markets.

They asked travelers.

They spoke to old men and young women.

Most people only shook their heads.

Then, near the market, they met a young kitchen girl.

She carried a basket of fresh bread, vegetables, and soup.

She was walking quickly.

The servant stopped her.

“Excuse me.”

“Have you ever heard of a bird called the nightingale?”

The girl’s face became bright.

“Of course,” she answered happily.

“I hear her every evening.”

The servants looked at each other with surprise.

“You do?” asked the servant.

The girl smiled.

“My mother is sick.”

“She lives in a small house near the sea.”

“Every evening, after my work in the palace, I take food to her.”

“On my way home, I walk through the forest.”

“That is where the nightingale sings.”

Her eyes filled with happy tears.

“Whenever I hear her voice, I forget all my worries.”

“It feels like my mother is becoming stronger.”

“The bird’s song brings peace to my heart.”

The servant listened carefully.

He had never heard anyone speak like this about music.

“Can you take us to the nightingale?”

“Yes,” the girl replied.

“I know the way.”

As the sun began to go down, they walked toward the forest.

The evening air was cool.

The leaves moved gently in the wind.

Small rabbits ran between the trees.

Butterflies danced above the flowers.

Everything looked peaceful.

Suddenly, they heard a loud sound.

“Moooo!”

One servant pointed excitedly.

“There she is!”

“The nightingale!”

The kitchen girl laughed.

“No.”

“That is only a cow.”

The servants smiled with embarrassment.

A little later, they heard another sound.

“Croak! Croak!”

“There she is now!” another servant cried.

The girl laughed again.

“No.”

“Those are frogs.”

The group continued walking.

Soon they entered the deepest part of the forest.

The trees became taller.

The light became softer.

Everything was quiet.

Then, without warning, beautiful music filled the air.

The servants stopped walking.

Nobody spoke.

The song was gentle.

It floated through the trees like the evening wind.

It sounded as if the forest itself was singing.

The kitchen girl quietly pointed to a branch.

“There she is.”

The servants looked up.

They saw a small grey bird.

Nothing about her looked special.

One servant whispered,

“Is that really the famous nightingale?”

“She looks so ordinary.”

The kitchen girl smiled.

“Do not look at her feathers.”

“Listen to her heart.”

Everyone became silent.

The nightingale continued singing.

The music was even more beautiful than they had imagined.

Some servants smiled.

Others closed their eyes.

One old servant quietly wiped away a tear.

At last, the emperor’s servant stepped forward.

He bowed politely.

“Dear Nightingale,” he said.

“Our great emperor wishes to hear your beautiful songs.”

The bird stopped singing.

She looked kindly at the visitors.

“The emperor?” she asked softly.

“Yes.”

“He invites you to the palace tonight.”

The nightingale looked toward the darkening sky.

She listened to the wind moving through the trees.

Then she smiled.

“If my songs can make someone happy,” she said,

“I will gladly come.”

The servants cheered with joy.

They had finally found the wonderful bird.

Together, they began walking toward the shining palace.

Far away, the emperor was waiting.

He did not know that this little grey bird would soon change his life forever.

---

Chapter Two

The Nightingale at the Palace

The emperor’s palace was brighter than ever that evening.

Servants hurried through the long halls. They cleaned every floor until it shone like a mirror. They polished the golden chairs and opened the tall windows to let in the cool evening air. Hundreds of colorful lanterns were lit, and their warm light filled every room.

Beautiful flowers from the palace garden stood in silver vases. Their sweet smell spread through the halls.

Everyone was excited.

“The nightingale is coming,” people whispered.

“The famous bird will sing for the emperor tonight.”

In the largest hall of the palace, a beautiful golden perch stood beside the emperor’s throne. It was made especially for the little bird.

The emperor wore his finest golden robe. A shining crown rested on his head. Around him stood ministers, soldiers, musicians, noblemen, and visitors from many countries.

Everyone waited quietly.

Near the large door stood the young kitchen girl.

The emperor had rewarded her for helping the servants find the nightingale.

“You may stay and listen,” he had said kindly.

The girl smiled with happiness.

She had never imagined that one day she would stand inside the emperor’s great hall.

Suddenly, the doors opened.

The little grey bird flew quietly into the room.

Some visitors looked surprised.

“Is that really the famous nightingale?”

“She is so small.”

“I expected a colorful bird.”

“She looks like any other bird.”

The nightingale heard their words, but she did not become angry.

She gently landed on the golden perch.

Then she looked around the beautiful hall.

Everything was bright.

Everything was rich.

But she missed the green trees outside.

The emperor smiled warmly.

“Welcome, dear Nightingale,” he said.

“I have heard many wonderful things about you.”

The bird bowed her little head.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I am happy to meet you.”

The emperor nodded.

“Please sing for us.”

The hall became completely silent.

Even the wind outside seemed to stop.

The nightingale closed her eyes.

Then she began to sing.

Her voice floated gently through the palace.

It sounded like a quiet river flowing between green hills.

Some people imagined the peaceful forest.

Others remembered the blue sea.

Some remembered happy days from their childhood.

The music entered every heart.

Nobody wanted the song to end.

The emperor listened carefully.

Slowly, tears filled his eyes.

One bright tear rolled down his cheek.

The nightingale saw it.

She smiled softly.

Then she sang even more beautifully.

Her voice became warmer and gentler.

The hall was full of joy and peace.

When the song finally ended, nobody spoke.

For a long moment, everyone simply looked at the little bird.

Then the whole hall exploded with applause.

People clapped loudly.

Some even shouted,

“Wonderful!”

“Beautiful!”

“Incredible!”

The emperor stood up.

“This is the most beautiful music I have ever heard.”

Everyone agreed.

“It is true.”

“There is no singer like the nightingale.”

The emperor looked kindly at the bird.

“I wish to reward you.”

He removed a pair of beautiful golden slippers.

“They are covered with jewels.”

“They belong to the emperor.”

“I want you to have them.”

The nightingale smiled politely.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“But I do not need gold.”

The emperor looked surprised.

“You do not?”

The little bird shook her head.

“No.”

“I have already received the greatest gift.”

The emperor smiled.

“What gift?”

The bird answered softly.

“When I saw tears in your eyes, I knew my song touched your heart.”

“No treasure is more valuable than that.”

The emperor became quiet.

Her words stayed in his heart.

“You are not only a wonderful singer,” he said.

“You are also very wise.”

“Please sing another song.”

The nightingale happily agreed.

This time her song was brighter.

It sounded like spring after a long winter.

Children smiled.

Old people laughed quietly.

The musicians forgot about their own instruments.

Everyone felt lighter than before.

Even the palace cats lay quietly on the floor and listened.

When the second song ended, the emperor smiled happily.

“I have made my decision.”

Everyone became silent again.

“The nightingale will stay here in my palace.”

The hall filled with cheers.

The ministers clapped.

The visitors smiled.

The servants bowed.

Only the nightingale looked uncertain.

“Stay here?” she asked gently.

“Yes,” said the emperor.

“You will be my special singer.”

“You will have your own beautiful room.”

“You will eat the finest food.”

“My servants will care for you.”

“You will never know hunger or danger again.”

The nightingale looked through the open window.

Far away she could see the dark forest.

The evening wind carried the smell of trees and flowers.

For a moment she remembered her home.

Then she looked back at the emperor.

“He is kind,” she thought.

“He only wants me to be happy.”

She smiled.

“If my songs bring happiness to others, I will stay.”

The emperor was delighted.

For many days, the palace was filled with music.

Every evening the nightingale sang.

Visitors came from distant countries.

Rich people came.

Poor people came.

Old people came.

Children came.

Everyone wanted to hear the famous bird.

Soon the whole city spoke about only one thing.

“The Nightingale.”

Children tried to copy her songs while they played.

Musicians listened carefully and learned new melodies.

Even people working in the busy market stopped talking whenever they heard her voice from the palace.

The bird became more famous every day.

But life inside the palace was very different from life in the forest.

In the forest she could fly wherever she wished.

She could rest beside the sea.

She could sing to the moon.

She could greet the sunrise from the highest tree.

She belonged to nobody.

In the palace, everything followed rules.

Servants watched her all day.

They worried that she might fly away.

Whenever she left her golden perch, two attendants quietly followed behind her.

Sometimes they even tied a soft silk ribbon around one of her tiny legs.

They said it was to keep her safe.

The ribbon did not hurt.

But it reminded the bird that she was no longer completely free.

One quiet evening, after everyone had gone home, the nightingale sat beside an open window.

The moon was shining over the forest.

The trees moved gently in the wind.

She heard the waves from the sea.

For a long time she said nothing.

The kitchen girl quietly walked over.

“You look sad,” she said.

The nightingale smiled.

“The emperor is kind.”

“The people here are kind.”

“But…”

She looked toward the forest again.

“I miss my home.”

The girl nodded.

“I understand.”

“No place is as special as home.”

The nightingale looked at the stars.

“In the forest,” she said softly, “my songs belong to everyone.”

“The trees listen.”

“The sea listens.”

“The fishermen listen.”

“Even the wind sings with me.”

The kitchen girl smiled.

“I hope one day you can visit your forest again.”

“So do I,” the bird whispered.

Just then, a servant hurried into the room.

He bowed to the emperor.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

“A very special gift has arrived from another country.”

The emperor looked curious.

“A gift?”

“Yes.”

“It comes from the Emperor of Japan.”

“It is inside a beautiful golden box.”

Everyone wondered what could be inside.

Nobody guessed that this gift would soon change everything.

---

Chapter Three

The Mechanical Nightingale

The next morning, the emperor woke up with a smile. He was still thinking about the nightingale’s beautiful songs.

“Today will be another wonderful day,” he said.

“I cannot wait to hear her sing again.”

Outside, the palace was already busy. Servants hurried through the gardens. Soldiers stood proudly at the gates. Cooks prepared delicious meals. Musicians practiced quietly. Everyone seemed happy.

Just before noon, a loud trumpet sounded at the palace entrance. A royal messenger entered the great hall. He carried a large golden box. Behind him walked several servants.

They placed the beautiful box carefully on a long table. The messenger bowed deeply.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

“This is a special gift from the Emperor of Japan.”

Everyone looked at the shining box with great excitement. The emperor smiled.

“A gift from another emperor is always welcome.”

“Open it.”

Two servants slowly lifted the lid. Inside, lying on soft red silk, was a beautiful bird. It looked exactly like a real nightingale. Its body was covered with gold. Its wings sparkled with silver. Its eyes were made from bright diamonds.

Small rubies and emeralds covered its tail. When the light touched the jewels, the whole room glittered. People gasped with surprise.

“It is beautiful!”

“I have never seen anything like it!”

The emperor stepped closer to the table. He looked carefully at the little bird.

“It looks almost alive,” he said.

Around the bird’s neck was a small golden ribbon. The messenger untied it and handed it to the emperor. A short message was written on it.

A small gift from the Emperor of Japan to the great Emperor of China.

Everyone admired the beautiful present. Then one servant noticed a tiny golden key beside the bird.

“What is this for?” he asked.

The messenger smiled.

“Please turn it.”

The servant gently turned the key. At once, the little bird opened its beak. Sweet music filled the hall. The bird moved its head from side to side, and its golden tail rose and fell. The jewels sparkled brightly as it sang.

Everyone clapped with excitement.

“Wonderful!”

“What a beautiful bird!”

“It is like magic!”

When the song ended, the mechanical bird became still. The messenger turned the key again. Once more, the bird sang exactly the same song. Every note was perfect. Every movement was exactly the same.

The palace musicians listened carefully. The oldest musician nodded with admiration.

“It never makes a mistake,” he said.

“It sings the same beautiful song every time.”

Soon everyone wanted to hear the new bird again and again. The emperor asked the real nightingale to come into the hall.

The little grey bird flew quietly to her golden perch. She looked at the beautiful mechanical bird beside her.

The emperor smiled.

“Now both of my wonderful singers are here.”

“Please sing together.”

The real nightingale began first. Her voice was warm and gentle. Then the mechanical bird joined her. But something did not sound right. One bird sang with feeling and freedom. The other sang the same tune as before.

The palace musicians looked at one another.

“The songs do not match,” one whispered.

“The mechanical bird knows only one song,” another replied.

“The real nightingale sings a new song every time.”

The music ended, and the hall became quiet.

The emperor thought for a moment. Then the music master stepped forward and bowed.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “the mechanical bird is perfect. It always sings the same song. It never becomes tired. It never forgets the music.”

Many ministers nodded.

“That is true.”

“It is a wonderful invention.”

The real nightingale listened quietly. She did not argue.

The emperor looked at her.

“You also sing beautifully,” he said.

“But your songs are always different. We never know what you will sing next.”

The little bird smiled.

“My songs come from my heart,” she replied.

“The wind changes.”

“The sea changes.”

“People change.”

“So my songs change too.”

Some people understood her words. Others could not stop looking at the shining golden bird.

Day after day, more visitors came to the palace. They admired the mechanical nightingale. Its golden body shone in the light. Its diamonds sparkled. Children loved watching its moving tail. Rich visitors admired the jewels more than the music.

Again and again, the mechanical bird sang the same song. Every time, the guests applauded loudly.

“It is perfect!”

“What wonderful music!”

The music master became very proud. He often spoke about the wonderful machine inside the bird. He explained every tiny wheel and every little spring.

“We understand exactly how this bird works,” he said.

“But nobody understands the real nightingale. She sings differently every day. The mechanical bird is much easier to understand.”

Many people agreed with him.

Only the young kitchen girl looked worried.

One evening, she found the real nightingale sitting quietly beside an open window.

“You have not sung very much today,” she said softly.

The bird looked toward the dark forest.

“I have been listening,” she answered.

“Listening to what?” asked the girl.

“Everyone is listening to the golden bird now.”

The girl sat beside her.

“But your songs are more beautiful.”

The nightingale smiled gently.

“Beauty is not always easy to see.”

The girl said nothing. Deep in her heart, she knew the bird was right.

That night, the moon shone brightly over the forest. A cool wind entered through the open window. The nightingale closed her eyes. She heard the waves on the sea. She heard the leaves moving in the trees. She heard the songs of the birds in the forest.

“My home is calling me,” she whispered.

Before sunrise, while everyone in the palace was asleep, the little grey bird quietly opened her wings. She looked around the room one last time. She was thankful to the emperor because he had always been kind to her.

But kindness could not replace freedom.

Without making a sound, she flew through the open window. Higher and higher she flew, over the palace, over the gardens, and back toward the green forest. The morning wind welcomed her home.

When the servants entered the room, they looked around in surprise.

“The nightingale is gone!”

They searched the palace, the gardens, and every tree nearby. But they could not find her.

When the emperor heard the news, he felt sad. For a long time, he said nothing. At last, he looked at the mechanical bird.

“It does not matter,” he said quietly.

“I still have this wonderful singer.”

The golden bird began its perfect song once again.

Everyone smiled.

But far away, deep in the forest, another song floated through the trees.

It was free.

It was alive.

And no golden machine could ever sing like the real nightingale.

---

Chapter four

The Broken Mechanical Bird

Many days passed after the real nightingale flew back to the forest. Life in the emperor’s palace became quiet again. Every evening, the mechanical nightingale stood on its golden perch and sang for the emperor and his guests.

Its song was always clear and beautiful. It never forgot a note. It never sang the wrong tune. When the song ended, everyone clapped loudly.

“What a wonderful bird!”

“It sings perfectly every time!”

The emperor smiled with pride.

“My mechanical nightingale is truly amazing,” he said.

The music master agreed.

“It is the finest machine in the world, Your Majesty.”

Every day, visitors came to the palace to see the famous bird. They admired its golden feathers and sparkling jewels. Children loved its shining wings, and rich visitors could not stop looking at the diamonds on its body.

Many people forgot about the little grey nightingale from the forest.

Only the young kitchen girl remembered her.

Sometimes she stood by the palace window and looked toward the forest.

“I hope you are happy,” she whispered.

The real nightingale was happy.

She flew freely through the green forest. She sang beside the blue sea. She visited the fishermen every evening. They always smiled when they heard her beautiful voice.

“There is our little friend,” an old fisherman often said.

“Her songs are even more beautiful than before.”

The nightingale was happy because she was free.

Back at the palace, the mechanical bird became more and more famous. It sang for kings, queens, princes, and visitors from many countries. Every performance was exactly the same.

The music master was very proud.

“Listen carefully,” he told the guests.

“This bird never makes a mistake.”

“It always sings the perfect song.”

The guests nodded.

“It is wonderful.”

“It is perfect.”

Years passed.

One evening, the emperor invited many important guests to the palace. The great hall was full of people. Bright lanterns hung from the ceiling, and beautiful flowers stood on every table.

The mechanical nightingale stood on its golden perch.

The emperor smiled.

“Please sing for us.”

A servant carefully turned the little golden key.

The bird opened its beak and began to sing.

Everyone listened quietly.

The music sounded as beautiful as always.

Then, suddenly…

Click!

A strange noise came from inside the bird.

The song stopped.

The bird’s wings became still.

Its golden tail did not move.

The hall became silent.

The emperor quickly stood up.

“What happened?” he asked.

The music master hurried to the bird.

He picked it up carefully and looked inside.

After a few minutes, he sighed.

“I am afraid one of the springs has broken, Your Majesty.”

The emperor looked worried.

“Can it be repaired?”

“I hope so,” replied the music master.

The next day, the best craftsmen in the country came to the palace. They carefully opened the mechanical bird.

Inside they saw many tiny wheels, little springs, and small golden parts.

They worked for many days.

At last, the bird was repaired.

The emperor was pleased.

“Can it sing again?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the oldest craftsman.

“But there is a problem.”

The emperor looked at him.

“What problem?”

“The bird has become old.”

“The little springs are weak now.”

“If it sings too often, it may break forever.”

The emperor became quiet.

“So what should we do?”

The craftsman answered gently,

“It should sing only on very special days.”

The emperor nodded sadly.

He understood.

From that day, the mechanical nightingale sang only a few times each year.

People still admired it.

But the palace no longer echoed with music every evening.

The great halls became quieter than before.

As the years passed, the emperor also became older.

His black hair slowly turned grey.

He walked more slowly through the palace gardens.

Sometimes he sat alone beside the window.

From there he could see the dark forest in the distance.

Often he remembered the little grey bird.

He remembered the first song she had sung in the great hall.

He remembered the tears that had filled his eyes.

“I wonder where she is now,” he sometimes whispered.

Far away, the real nightingale was still singing.

She sang for the trees.

She sang for the flowers.

She sang for the sea.

Her songs changed every day because they came from her heart.

One cold winter, the emperor became very ill.

He stayed in bed all day.

The doctors came from every part of the country.

They gave him medicine.

They tried everything they knew.

But the emperor did not become stronger.

Day after day, he became weaker.

The servants spoke in quiet voices.

The ministers looked worried.

Some people believed the emperor would never recover.

Late one evening, the palace became very quiet.

Outside, the wind blew through the trees.

Inside, the emperor lay alone in his bed.

He looked at the mechanical nightingale standing nearby.

He wished he could hear beautiful music once again.

But the little golden bird remained silent.

It could not sing by itself.

The emperor closed his eyes.

The room was silent.

Only the sound of the wind could be heard outside.

He did not know that before morning, someone very special would return to the palace.

---

Chapter Five

The Nightingale Returns

The emperor opened his eyes. The room was dark and quiet. A cold wind came through the open window, and the curtains moved slowly. Outside, the moon shone above the palace garden.

The emperor felt very weak. He tried to sit up, but he could not.

“It is so quiet,” he whispered.

He looked around the room. No servants were there. No ministers were there. Everyone believed the emperor was dying.

Then the room became even colder. A dark figure stood beside the bed. The emperor looked carefully. The figure wore his golden crown. It held his shining sword. In the other hand, it carried the emperor’s flag.

The emperor became afraid.

He knew who the visitor was.

It was Death.

Death looked at the emperor but said nothing. The room was completely silent.

The emperor remembered the mechanical nightingale. He looked toward the little golden bird.

“My dear bird,” he whispered.

“Please sing for me.”

“Your music always makes me happy.”

But the mechanical nightingale did not move. No one had turned its little key. Without the key, it could not sing.

The emperor closed his eyes.

“I am all alone,” he said quietly.

At that moment, a soft and beautiful song floated through the open window. The emperor slowly opened his eyes again. He knew that voice.

Outside the window, on the branch of a tall tree, sat a small grey bird. It was the real nightingale. She had heard that the emperor was very ill, so she had come back.

“My little friend,” whispered the emperor.

“You returned.”

The nightingale smiled.

“Of course,” she said softly.

“I could not forget you.”

Then she began to sing. Her song was gentle and peaceful. She sang about green forests after winter. She sang about flowers opening in spring. She sang about birds flying freely across the blue sky. She sang about the fresh sea air and the sound of the waves.

The room slowly became warmer. The emperor breathed more easily. Even Death listened carefully. The beautiful music filled every corner of the room.

The nightingale sang another song. This song was full of hope. She sang about friendship. She sang about kindness. She sang about people helping one another. She sang about happy days that were still waiting to come.

Death became very quiet. The music touched even Death’s heart.

After a long silence, Death spoke.

“Little Nightingale,” Death said softly.

“Please sing another song.”

The nightingale nodded.

“But first, you must leave the emperor.”

Death looked at the little bird. Then, slowly, Death stepped away from the bed. The room became brighter. The cold air disappeared.

The nightingale sang again. Her voice became even sweeter.

At last, Death quietly disappeared into the night.

The emperor smiled. He could breathe easily again. Color slowly returned to his face. He looked at the little bird with thankful eyes.

“You saved my life,” he said.

“I was not always kind to you.”

“I forgot how much I needed your songs.”

“But you came back.”

The nightingale gently shook her head.

“I remember something very special,” she said.

The emperor looked surprised.

“What do you remember?”

“The first time I sang for you, tears came into your eyes.”

“They were tears of happiness.”

“I have never forgotten them.”

“They were more precious than gold.”

The emperor smiled. Tears filled his eyes once again.

“Please stay here with me,” he said.

“I will build the most beautiful home for you.”

“You will never be lonely.”

The nightingale looked toward the forest. Then she looked back at the emperor.

“Thank you,” she said kindly.

“But my home is not inside the palace.”

“My home is the forest.”

“I must stay free.”

The emperor nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

“I will never keep you in a cage again.”

The little bird flew onto the windowsill.

“But I will visit you,” she said.

“I will come whenever I wish.”

“I will sit on the tree outside your window.”

“I will sing to you.”

“I will tell you about the people in your country.”

“I will tell you when they are happy.”

“I will tell you when they are sad.”

“I will help you become a better emperor.”

The emperor smiled.

“I promise that no one will know your secret.”

The nightingale sang one more beautiful song. As she sang, the first light of morning appeared in the sky. The sun slowly rose above the forest. The palace became bright again.

A few moments later, the servants entered the emperor’s room. They stopped in surprise. The emperor was sitting up in bed. He looked healthy. He was smiling.

“Good morning,” he said happily.

The servants could hardly believe their eyes.

“Your Majesty!”

“You are well!”

Soon the whole palace heard the wonderful news. The emperor was alive. The ministers returned. The soldiers smiled. The cooks prepared a great celebration. People throughout the country rejoiced.

From that day, the emperor became a kinder and wiser ruler. He listened more carefully to his people. He remembered that true beauty could not be made from gold or jewels. It came from kindness, freedom, and love.

Sometimes, on quiet evenings, a sweet song floated through the open window. The emperor always smiled when he heard it. He knew that his little friend had returned.

The nightingale never lived in the palace again. She lived in the forest, where she was free. But she never forgot the emperor. And the emperor never forgot her beautiful songs.

The End

Read the original story: www.gutenberg.org

Vocabulary

Comprehension Questions

1. Where did the emperor live?

2. Why did many people visit the emperor’s palace?

3. Who told the servants about the real nightingale?

4. Where did the servants find the nightingale?

5. Why did the emperor invite the nightingale to the palace?

6. How did the emperor feel after hearing the nightingale sing?

7. What special gift did the emperor receive from another country?

8. Why did many people begin to admire the mechanical nightingale?

9. What happened to the mechanical nightingale after many years?

10. Why could the mechanical bird no longer sing every day?

11. What happened when the emperor became very ill?

12. Why could the mechanical nightingale not help the emperor?

13. Who returned to the palace through the open window?

14. How did the real nightingale save the emperor?

15. Why did the nightingale refuse to live in the palace?

16. What lesson did the emperor learn by the end of the story?

Grammar Exercises

Answers:

b) lives, b) found, b) sings, a) can, b) more beautiful, a) a, c) in, b) she, b) was, c) will, b) sparkling, a) but, c) to hear, b) her, d) There were, b) comes.

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