| The comet came! It flashed
with its fiery tail across the heavens and brought omens of
the future. Everybody looked at it: the rich from their balconies,
the poor from the streets, and the lonely traveler wandering
across the pathless heath. Each one had his own thoughts at
the sight. |
Og Kometen kom, skinnede
med sin Ildkjærne og truede med sit Riis; der blev seet paa
den fra det rige Slot, fra det fattige Huus, fra Stimlen paa
Gaden og af den Eensomme, der gik hen over den veiløse Hede;
hver havde sin Tanke derved. |
| "Come! Look, it is a
sign from heaven. Hurry outside, it is beautiful!" And everybody
did hurry and almost everyone saw it. |
"Kom og see det Himlens
Tegn! kom og see det pragtfulde Syn!" blev der sagt, og Alle
skyndte sig at see. |
| Inside a little room
sat a mother and her child. On the table a candle burned. The
wick had curled like a wood shaving. "That is a bad sign," thought
the mother. "It is an omen that the boy won't live." |
Men inde i Stuen sad
endnu en lille Dreng og hans Moder; Tællelyset brændte, og Moder
syntes at der var en Høvlspaan i Lyset; Tællen stod op i Spids
og krøllede, det betød, troede hun, at den lille Dreng maatte
snart døe, Høvlspaanen vendte jo mod ham. |
| That was an old superstition
and she was filled with them. |
Det var en gammel Overtro,
og den havde hun. |
| The boy was, in fact,
to have a long life here on earth; he was to live to see the
comet when it returned sixty years later. |
Den lille Dreng skulde
just leve mange Aar paa Jorden, leve og see Kometen, naar den
efter mere end tresindstyve Aar viste sig igjen. |
| The little boy had not
noticed the wick or thought about the comet -this first time
during his life that it appeared in the sky. He gave all his
attention to a little cracked bowl filled with soapsuds in front
of him. He dipped the head of a little clay pipe into it, gently
lifted it up, and blew soap bubbles. The bubbles floated through
the air. There were big ones and small ones. They had the most
beautiful colors. They changed from yellow to red, to purple
and blue, and then became as green as a leaf in the forest when
the sun shines through it. |
Den lille Dreng saae
ikke Høvlspaanen i Lyset, havde heller ikke Tanke om Kometen,
der første Gang i hans Liv skinnede fra Himlen. Han sad med
en klinket Spølkumme foran sig; i den var pidsket Sæbevand,
og ned i den dyppede han Hovedet af en lille Kridtpibe, satte
saa Stilken for Munden og blæste Sæbebobler, smaa og store;
de bævede og svævede med de deiligste Couleurer, der skiftede
fra Guult til Rødt, Lilla og Blaat, og saa blev det grønt som
Skovens Blad, naar Solen skinner gjennem det. |
| "May God give you as
many years of life on earth as you can blow soap bubbles," said
his mother. |
"Gud unde Dig Aar her
paa Jorden, saa mange, som de Bobler Du blæser!" |
| "So many, so many,"
laughed the little one. "Why, I have so much soapsuds that I
will never be able to finish." And then he dipped the clay pipe
again and blew some more. |
"Saa mange, saa mange!"
sagde den Lille. "Sæbevandet kan aldrig blæses op!" og den Lille
blæste Boble paa Boble. |
| "There flies a year,
and there another, look how they fly!" he exclaimed every time
a bubble loosened itself from the pipe and glided away. Some
of them burst as they hit his face. The soapy water made his
eyes smart and brought forth a tear. In each bubble he saw his
future brilliantly reflected. |
"Der flyver et Aar!
der flyver et Aar, see hvor de flyve!" sagde han ved hver Boble,
der løsnede sig og fløi. Et Par foer ham lige ind i Øinene;
det sved, brændte, han fik Taarer i Øinene. I hver Boble saae
han lagt et Fremtids-Syn, skinnende, glimrende. |
| "Come, now you can see
the comet clearly," called the neighbors. "Do come, don't stay
inside!" |
"Nu kan man see Kometen!"
raabte Naboerne. "Kom dog ud; sid ikke derinde!" |
| The mother took her
son's hand in hers. He had to leave his pipe and bowl of soapy
water to see the comet. |
Og Moder tog den Lille
ved Haanden; han maatte lægge Kridtpiben, slippe Legetøiet med
Sæbeboblerne; Kometen var der. |
| He saw the fiery ball
with its long tail of sparks. Some said it was nine feet long;
others, nine million. People see so differently. |
Og den Lille saae den
lysende Ildkugle med den straalende Hale; Nogle sagde, at den
viste sig tre Alen lang, Andre, at den var Millioner Alen; man
seer saa forskjelligt. |
| "Our children and our
grandchildren will be dead before it comes again," the people
said. |
"Børn og Børnebørn kunne
være døde før den viser sig igjen!" sagde Folk. |
| And that was true. Most
of the people who saw the comet then were dead when it again
appeared. But the little boy for whom the wick had curled like
a wood shaving, and whose mother had thought he soon would die,
was still alive. He was old and his hair was white. There is
an old saying: "A white hair is the flower of age." And of these
the old school teacher had many. |
De Fleste af dem, som
sagde det, vare ogsaa døde og borte, da den atter viste sig;
men den lille Dreng, for hvem Høvlspaanen stod i Lyset og Moderen
troede om: "han døer snart!" han levede endnu, var gammel og
hvidhaaret. "Hvide Haar er Alderens Blomster!" siger Ordsproget,
og han havde mange af de Blomster; han var nu en gammel Skolemester.
|
| His pupils said he was
wise; he knew so much about geography, history, and all the
stars in the sky. |
Skolebørnene sagde,
at han var saa klog, vidste saa Meget, kjendte Historie, Geographi
og hvad man veed om Himmellegemerne. |
| "Everything repeats
itself," he would say. "Notice that when something happens in
one country it soon happens again in another, just 'dressed'
a little differently." |
"Alt kommer igjen!"
sagde han; "bid bare Mærke i Personer og Begivenheder og I skulle
kjende, at de altid komme igjen, i anden Kjole, i andet Land."
|
| The school teacher told
them about William Tell, who had had to shoot an apple off his
son's head, and how he had hid another arrow inside his cloak,
to shoot into the heart of evil Gessler. It was in Switzerland
that this happened, but the same events had taken place many
years earlier in Denmark, when Palnatoke had been forced to
shoot an apple off the head of his son; and he also had kept
an extra arrow for revenge. More than a thousand years earlier
still, in Egypt, the same story had been written down. These
stories are like the comets: they disappear, are forgotten,
and then reappear. |
Og Skolemester havde
da fortalt om Vilhelm Tell, der maatte skyde et Æble af sin
Søns Hoved, men før han udskød Pilen, gjemte han paa sit Bryst
en anden Piil til at skyde i Brystet paa den onde Gessler. Det
var i Schweiz det skete, men mange Aar forud skete det Samme
i Danmark med Palnatoke; han maatte ogsaa skyde et Æble af sin
Søns Hoved og gjemte som Tell en Piil til at hevne sig med;
og for mere end tusinde Aar længere tilbage, blev nedskrevet
den samme Historie som hændet i Ægypten; det Samme kommer igjen
ligesom Kometerne, de fare hen, blive borte og komme igjen.
|
| He talked about the
comet that was to appear, the one he had seen as a young boy.
The old schoolmaster knew a lot about astronomy, but that did
not mean that he had forgotten history or geography. |
Og han talte om Kometen,
som var i Vente, Kometen, han havde seet som lille Dreng. Skolemester
vidste om Himmellegemerne, tænkte over dem, men glemte derfor
ikke Historie og Geographi. |
| He had arranged his
garden so that it was a map of all of Denmark; in each flower
bed, which was shaped like the island it represented, grew the
plants native to that district. "Get the peas," he would say
to one of his pupils. and the child would find them in Laaland.
"Get the buckwheat," he would order, and one of the children
would walk over to Langeland. Sweet gale and blue gentian flowers
were planted on the very tip of northern Jutland, and holly
near Silkeborg. The towns were marked by little statues. St.
Knud stood in Odense, Absalon with his bishop's staff at Sorø.
Oh yes, in the schoolteacher's garden you could learn the geography
of Denmark; but first he had to explain everything about it,
and that was the best part. |
Sin Have havde han anlagt
i Skikkelse af et Danmarks Landkort. Her stode Urter og Blomster,
som de bedst høre hjemme i Landets forskjellige Egne. "Hent
mig Ærter!" sagde han, og saa gik man til det Bed, der forestillede
Lolland. "Hent mig Boghvede!" og saa gik man til Langeland.
Den deilige blaae Entian og Porsurten vare at finde oppe paa
Skagen, den glindsende Christtjørn ovre ved Silkeborg. Byerne
selv vare antydede ved Postamenter. Her stod St.Knud med Lindormen,
det betød Odense. Absalon med Bispestav betød Sorø; det lille
Fartøi med Aarer var Mærke for, at her laae Byen Aarhuus. Af
Skolemesters Have lærte man godt Danmarks Landkort; men man
maatte jo først belæres af ham, og det var saa fornøieligt.
|
| Now when the comet was
expected he told the children what the people had said when
last it was seen. "The comet year is supposed to be a good wine
year," he said, "and the wine merchants can add water to the
wine without their customers finding out. Wine merchants should
be very fond of comets." |
Nu var Kometen i Vente,
og om den fortalte han og hvad Folk i gamle Dage, da den sidst
var her, havde sagt og dømt. "Komet-Aaret er et godt Viin-Aar,"
sagde han, "man kan spæde Vinen med Vand, det mærkes ikke. Viinhandlerne
skulle holde saa meget af Komet-Aar." |
| The weather had been
cloudy, both day and night, for fourteen days. The comet could
not be seen, but it was there. |
Luften stod med Skyer
hele fjorten Nætter og Dage, Kometen kunde ikke sees, men den
var der. |
| The old schoolmaster
sat in his study, near the schoolroom. The old grandfather clock
that he had inherited from his parents stood in the comer. Its
heavy lead weights did not move, the pendulum was still, and
the little cuckoo sat soundlessly behind a closed door. The
room was silent. It had been years since the clock stopped.
But the piano--that, too, he had from his parents--could still
be played on, and even though it sounded a little out of tune,
it still contained a whole lifetime of melodies. When the old
man played, memories came to him, both of moments of happiness
and of times of sorrowall that had happened during the long
years that had passed since he first saw the comet. Now he recalled
what his mother had said about the curly wick of the candle.
He remembered the lovely soap bubbles he had blown, each of
which was to be a year of his life. How they had glistened and
sparkled. Then they had seemed to him to contain all happiness
and beauty. The whole wide world had been mirrored in them and,
with the lightheartedness of childhood and the desire of youth,
he had wanted to go out into it. They had been bubbles of the
future and had held nothing but sunshine. Now, as the old man
played, the music was the bubbles of memory, melodies from a
time past. Lines and phrases occurred to him, the song his grandmother
sang when knitting: |
Den gamle Skolemester
sad i sit lille Kammer tæt op til Skolestuen. Det bornholmske
Uhr fra hans Forældres Tid stod i Krogen, de tunge Blylodder
hverken løftedes eller sank, Perpendikelen rørte sig ikke; den
lille Gjøg, som fordum kom frem og kukkede Klokkeslettet, havde
i flere Aar siddet taus bag lukket Laage; Alt var stumt og stille
derinde, Uhret gik ikke mere. Men det gamle Claveer tæt ved,
ogsaa fra Forældrenes Tid, havde Liv endnu, Strængene kunde
klinge, rigtignok lidt hæst, klinge en heel Menneskealders Melodier.
Den gamle Mand erindrede derved saa Meget, baade Glædeligt og
Bedrøveligt, i den Række af Aar, fra han som Lille saae Kometen,
og til nu den var her igjen. Han huskede hvad Moder havde sagt
ved Høvlspaanen i Lyset, han huskede de deilige Sæbebobler,
han blæste; hver var et Leveaar, havde han sagt, hvor skinnende,
hvor farvesprængt! alt Deiligt og Glædeligt saae han deri: Barnelege
og Ungdomslyst, hele den vide Verden aaben i Solskin, og ud
i den skulde han! det var Fremtidsbobler. Som gammel Mand fornam
han fra Claverets Strænge Melodier fra den svundne Tid: Erindringsbobler
med Mindernes Farveskjær; der klang Bedstemoders Strikkevise:
|
"No Amazon ever A stocking did knit."
|
"Vist ingen Amazone Den første Strømpe bandt."
|
| And a verse from a sweet
song that an old maid, who had taken care of him when he was
small, had sung: |
Der klang Visen, som
Husets gamle Pige havde sunget for ham som Barn: |
"So many a rock and reef Has the sea so wild. So many tears
and grief Await the innocent child."
|
"Her er saa mangen Fare I Verden gjennemgaae, For Den,
som ung mon være Og Lidet kan forstaae."
|
| He played a tune to
which he had danced at his first ball: a minuet. The soft, sad
melody brought tears to his eyes. He played a march, then a
psalm, and again a gay little song. Bubble after bubble, just
like the ones he had blown from the soapsuds when he was a little
boy. |
Nu løde Melodier fra
det første Bal, en Menuet og Molinaski; nu løde bløde, veemodsfulde
Toner, der kom Taarer i den gamle Mands Øine, nu bruste en Krigsmarsch,
nu Psalmesang, nu muntre Toner, Boble paa Boble, som da han
som lille Dreng blæste dem af Sæbevand. |
| His glance was turned
toward the window. The clouds parted, and in the clear sky he
saw the comet: its brilliant center and its long shining foggy
tail. |
Hans Øine vare heftede
mod Vinduet, en Sky derude paa Himlen gled bort, han saae i
den klare Luft Kometen, dens skinnende Kjærne, dens lysende
Taageslør. |
| It was as if it were
only yesterday he had seen it. It had not changed and yet a
whole long life had passed. Then he had read the future in the
bubbles, as now the past was mirrored in them. He stopped playing.
His hands were resting on the keys. It sounded as if a string
had broken in the piano. |
Det var som om han havde
seet det den Aften igaar, og dog laae et heelt rigt Menneskeliv
imellem den Tid og nu; dengang var han Barn og saae i Boblerne
"fremad", nu viste Boblerne "tilbage". Han følte Barnesind og
Barnetro, hans Øine lyste, hans Haand sank ned paa Tangenterne;
- det klang som sprang der en Stræng. |
| "Come out! Come and
see the comet!" his neighbors called. "The sky is clear, come
and see it!" |
"Kom dog og see, Kometen
er her!" blev der raabt af Naboerne. "Himlen er saa deilig klar!
kom dog for rigtig at see!" |
| The old schoolmaster
did not answer; his soul had left and followed now its own course,
through an even greater space than the other comet traveled.
The comet was seen by the rich from their balconies, the poor
from the streets, and by the lonely traveler wandering across
the pathless heath. The schoolmaster's soul was only seen by
God and by those among the dead he had loved and longed for.
|
Den gamle Skolemester
svarede ikke, han var afsted for rigtig at see; hans Sjæl var
afsted paa større Bane, i et videre Rum, end Kometen gjennemflyver.
Og den blev der igjen seet paa fra det rige Slot, fra det fattige
Huus, af Stimlen paa Gaden og af den Eensomme paa den veiløse
Hede. Hans Sjæl blev seet paa af Gud og af de kjære Forudgangne,
dem, han længtes efter. |