The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

The Dead Child - Barnet i Graven

1860

The house was in mourning, and sorrow lived in every heart. The youngest child in the family, a four-year-old boy, had died. The parents' pride and hope, their only son. They had two daughters. One of them was to be confirmed that year; they were kind and good girls, both of them. But the child one loses is always closest to one's heart, and this child had been the youngest, and their only son. It was a time of trial. The two young sisters mourned, as young hearts do; they were especially moved by the sorrow of their parents. The father walked as if he were bent by sorrow, but their mother was completely beside herself with grief. Night and day she had sat beside the bed of her sick child, she had lifted him in her arms, carried him, and nursed him. The child had become an inseparable part of her; and now she could not believe that he was dead and had to be placed in a coffin and hidden in a grave. How could God take her child from her? But it had happened; and when she could no longer say that it was not so, then in her grief and distress she cried: Der var Sorg i Huset, der var Sorg i Hjerterne, det yngste Barn, en firaars Dreng, den eneste Søn, Forældrenes Glæde og Fremtids Haab, var død; to ældre Døttre havde de vel, den ældste skulde netop i dette Aar confirmeres, velsignede, gode Piger begge To, men det mistede Barn er altid det kjæreste og dette var det yngste og en Søn. Det var en tung Prøvelse. Søstrene sørgede som unge Hjerter sørge, grebne især ved Forældrenes Smerte, Faderen var nedbøiet, men Moderen overvældet af den store Sorg. Nat og Dag havde hun gaaet om det syge Barn, pleiet det, løftet og baaret det; det var en Deel af hende selv havde hun følt og fornummet, hun kunde ikke tænke sig at det var dødt, at det skulde lægges i Kiste og gjemmes i Graven: Gud kunde ikke tage dette Barn fra hende, meente hun, og da det dog skete og var en Vished, sagde hun i sin syge Smerte:
"God does not know about it. His servants are heartless and do what pleases them. They do not listen to a mother's prayers." "Gud har ikke vidst det! han har hjerteløse Tjenere her paa Jorden, de handle, som de lyste, de høre ikke en Moders Bønner."
Her pain was so great that she let go of God; and dark thoughts came, thoughts about eternal death--that all was over when our bodies became dust in the dust. With such thoughts, she could hold onto nothing, and she fell into the deepest despair. Hun slap i sin Smerte Vor Herre og da kom mørke Tanker, Dødens Tanker, den evige Død, at Mennesket blev Jord i Jorden, og at da Alt var forbi. Ved saadan Tanke havde hun Intet at klamre sig til, men sank i Fortvivlelsens bundløse Intet.
She could no longer cry. She paid no attention to her daughters, nor did she notice the tears in her husband's eyes. All her thoughts were with her dead child. She tried to remember everything he had done, every childish, innocent word he had uttered. I de tungeste Timer kunde hun ikke græde meer; hun tænkte ikke paa de unge Døttre hun havde, Mandens Taarer faldt paa hendes Pande, hun saae ikke op til ham; hendes Tanker vare hos det døde Barn, al hendes Liv og Leven aandede i at tilbagekalde sig hvert Minde om Barnet, hvert af dets uskyldige Barne-Ord.
The day of the funeral came. The night before she had not slept, except for an hour in the early morning when tiredness had overwhelmed her. During that time the coffin was moved to the most distant room in the house and the lid was nailed down. Begravelsesdagen kom, Nætter forud havde hun ikke sovet, i Morgenstunden overvældedes hun af Træthed og havde nogen Hvile, imens blev Kisten baaren hen i en afsides Stue og Laaget der slaaet til, at hun ikke skulde høre Hammerslagene.
When she woke she wanted to see her child again, but her husband, with tears in his eyes, said, "We have closed the coffin, we had to." Da hun vaagnede, kom op og vilde see sit Barn, sagde Manden hende i Taarer: "Vi have lukket Laaget; det maatte skee!"
"If God is hard and cruel toward me, why should I expect better treatment from you?" she said, sobbing. "Naar Gud er haard mod mig", udbrød hun, "hvorfor skulde saa Menneskene være bedre!" og hun hulkede i Graad.
The coffin was carried to its grave. The mother, who could find consolation nowhere, sat with her daughters but she did not see them. Her thoughts were homeless, she had abandoned herself to her grief; she was floundering now in a dark ocean, like a ship that has lost its rudder. Thus passed the day of the funeral, and the days that followed were as uniformly filled with suffering. With eyes red from weeping, her family looked at her. They tried to console her but she did not hear them; and maybe they could not find the right words, for they were grieving too. Kisten blev bragt til Graven, den trøstesløse Moder sad hos sine unge Døttre, hun saae paa dem, uden at see dem, hendes Tanker havde ikke mere med Hjemmet at gjøre, hun overgav sig til Sorgen, og den kastede hende som Søen kaster Skibet, der har mistet Ror og Styrer. Saaledes gik Begravelsesdagen og flere Dage fulgte med samme eensformige, tunge Smerte. Med vaade Øine og bedrøvede Blik saae de Sørgende hjemme paa hende, hun hørte ikke deres Trøst, hvad kunde de vel ogsaa sige, de vare for bedrøvede dertil.
She and sleep had parted company, although he could have been her best friend, for she needed rest to strengthen her body and give peace to her soul. Her husband persuaded her that she must lie down; and she did. She was not asleep; she only pretended to be by lying very still. Her husband, who was listening to her breathing, was convinced that she had finally fallen asleep. He closed his own eyes and soon slept deeply. He did not hear his wife rise and dress herself. Silently, she let herself out of the house and hurried to that place which her thoughts did not leave, neither day nor night: her son's grave. She saw no one on her way along the path that crossed the meadows to the churchyard; and, no one saw her. Det var som om hun ikke kjendte til Søvnen meer, og alene den vilde være hendes bedste Ven, styrke Legemet, kalde Ro i Sjælen; de fik hende til at lægge sig i Sengen, hun laae ogsaa stille som en Sovende. Een Nat, Manden lyttede efter hendes Aandedrag og troede forvist, at hun fandt Hvile og Lettelse, foldede han derfor sine Hænder, bad og sov snart sundt og fast, mærkede ikke, at hun reiste sig, kastede sine Klæder om sig og gik saa stille ud af Huset, for at komme derhen hvor hendes Tanker Nat og Dag søgte, til Graven, der gjemte hendes Barn. Hun gik gjennem Husets Have, ud paa Marken, hvor Stien førte uden om Byen hen til Kirkegaarden; Ingen saae hende, hun saae Ingen.
The sky was clear and all the stars were out; it was in the beginning of September and the air was warm. The little grave of her child was still covered with flowers; their perfume smelled strongly in the still night. She sat down and bent her head, as if she hoped to be able to see down through the earth to her little boy. Everything about him was still alive to her. She remembered his smile, the expression of love for her in his face. How could anyone forget how eloquently his little face had spoken as he lay on his sick bed? She remembered how she had bent down over him and taken his hand when he was so weak he could not move it. As she had sat by his bed, she now sat by his grave, but here she could weep freely and her tears fell on his grave. Det var deiligt stjerneklart, Luften endnu saa mild, det var først i September. Hun kom ind paa Kirkegaarden, hen til den lille Grav, den var som en eneste stor Bouquet af Blomster, de duftede, hun satte sig ned, bøiede sit Hoved imod Graven, som skulde hun gjennem det tætte Jordlag kunde see sin lille Dreng, hvis Smiil hun saa levende huskede; det kjærlige Udtryk i Øinene, selv paa Sygeleiet, var jo aldrig til at glemme, hvor talende havde der hans Blik været, naar hun bøiede sig over ham og tog hans fine Haand, den han ikke selv mægtede at løfte. Som hun havde siddet ved hans Seng sad hun nu ved hans Grav, men her havde Taarerne frit Løb, de faldt paa Graven.
"Do you want to go down to your child?" asked a voice near her. It sounded so deep and clear, as if her own heart had spoken to her. She turned her head and saw standing beside her a man dressed in a long black cloak with a hood that hid his face. As he looked down at her, she caught a glimpse of his features. He looked austere and yet inspired confidence rather than fear, and his eyes sparkled like a young man's. "Du vil ned til dit Barn!" sagde en Stemme tæt ved, den lød saa klar, saa dyb, den klang ind i hendes Hjerte, hun saae op, og der stod hos hende en Mand, hyllet i en stor Sørgekappe med Hætte ned om Hovedet, men hun saae ind under den i hans Ansigt, det var strengt, men dog saa tillidsvækkende, hans Øine straalede som var han i Ungdoms Aar.
"Down to my child," she repeated, and her words sounded like a desperate prayer. "Ned til mit Barn!" gjentog hun og der laae en Fortvivlelsens Bøn deri.
"Do you dare follow me?" asked the man. "I am Death!" "Tør Du følge mig?" spurgte Skikkelsen. "Jeg er Døden!"
She nodded and suddenly all the stars seemed to shine with the power and glory of the full moon. She noticed the splendor of the flowers that covered the grave, as the earth grew soft under her and she sank slowly down into it. Death covered her with his cape and it was night, and dark as death. She sank deeper than the gravedigger's spade ever will reach; the churchyard became a roof over her head. Og hun nikkede bekræftende; da var det med Eet, som om alle Stjerner ovenover lyste med Fuldmaanens Glands, hun saae den brogede Farvepragt i Blomsterne paa Graven, Jorddækket her gav blødt og sagte efter, som et svævende Klæde, hun sank, og Skikkelsen bredte sin sorte Kappe om hende, det blev Nat, Dødens Nat, hun sank dybere end Gravspaden trænger ned, Kirkegaarden laae som et Tag over hendes Hoved.
Death's cape fell away from her and she was standing in a great hall. Although it was twilight all about her, the place was more comforting than frightening. There was her child! She pressed him to her heart. He smiled and laughed and looked even more beautiful than he had when he was alive. She shouted for joy but was aware at the same moment that no sound came from her lips. From far away beautiful and strange music reached her ears; it seemed to come nearer and nearer, only to recede again. It came from somewhere beyond the great curtain, black as night, that divided the hall from the land of eternity. Kappens Flig gled til Side, hun stod i en mægtig Hal, der bredte sig stor og venlig; det var Skumring rundt om, men foran hende, og i samme Nu, tæt op til sit Hjerte, holdt hun sit Barn, det tilsmilede hende i en Skjønhed, større end nogensinde før; hun udstødte et Skrig, dog hørligt blev det ikke, thi tæt ved, og derpaa igjen langt borte og atter nær, lød en svulmende, deilig Musik, aldrig før havde saa saligstemmende Toner naaet til hendes Øre, de klang hin Side det natsorte, tætte Forhæng, der skilte Hallen fra det store Evigheds-Land.
"My sweet mother, my own mother!" she heard her little boy say. Oh, it was his voice, the voice she loved. Kiss followed kiss, in one unending joy. The little boy pointed toward the curtain and said: "Min søde Moder! min egen Moder!" hørte hun sit Barn sige. Det var den kjendte, elskede Røst; og Kys fulgte paa Kys i uendelig Lyksalighed; og Barnet pegede hen paa det mørke Forhæng.
"It is not as beautiful up on earth as it is here. Look, Mother! Do you see them all? Such is heavenly bliss." "Saa deiligt er der ikke oppe paa Jorden! seer Du, Moder! seer Du dem Allesammen! det er Lyksalighed!"
The mother looked in the direction her son was pointing, but she saw nothing except the curtain dark as night. Her eyes belonged still to the earth, and she could not see what he saw. She heard the music and the singing that came from beyond, but she could not understand the words that were sung. Men Moderen saae Intet, der hvor Barnet pegede, Intet, uden den sorte Nat; hun saae med jordiske Øine, saae ikke saaledes som Barnet, det Gud havde kaldt til sig, hun hørte Klangen, Tonerne, men hun fornam ikke Ordet, det hun havde at troe.
"I can fly now, Mother," said the child, "fly together with all the other happy children, right up to God. I would like to so much, but your tears hold me back. When you weep I cannot leave you, and I want to. Please let me go, may I? After all, it is but so short a time, and then you will be with me." "Nu kan jeg flyve, Moder!" sagde Barnet, "flyve med alle de andre glade Børn lige derind til Gud! jeg vil det saa gjerne, men naar Du græder, som Du nu græder, kan jeg ikke komme fra Dig, og jeg vilde saa gjerne! maa jeg dog ikke nok! Du kommer jo derind til mig om ganske lidt, søde Moder!"
"No, stay, stay!" cried the mother. "Only a little while longer. Let me look at you just once more, and kiss you and hold you in my arms!" "0 bliv, o bliv!" sagde hun, "kun et Øieblik endnu! en eneste Gang endnu maa jeg see paa Dig, kysse Dig, holde Dig fast i mine Arme!"
And she held onto the child and she kissed him. Mournfully her name was called by someone up above. Who could it be? Og hun kyssede og holdt fast. Da lød hendes Navn deroven fra; saa klagende kom disse Toner; hvad var det dog?
"Do you hear?" asked the child. "It is Father who is calling you." "Hører Du!" sagde Barnet, "det er Fader, som kalder paa Dig!"
Then she heard deep sobs, like those children make when they have cried too long. Og atter, efter faa Secunder, lød dybe Suk, som fra Børn der græde.
"Hear my sisters," said the boy. "You have forgotten them!" "Det er mine Søstre!" sagde Barnet, "Moder, Du har jo ikke glemt dem!"
Suddenly she remembered all that she had left behind. She saw shades fly by her, through the hall of death, and thought that she recognized some of them. What if one of those shades should prove to be her husband or her daughters! No, she could still hear their sighs and their weeping. She had forgotten them for the sake of her dead child. Og hun huskede de Tilbageblevne, en Angst betog hende, hun saae frem for sig og altid svævede Skikkelser forbi, hun troede at kjende Nogle, de svævede gjennem Dødens Hal, hen mod det mørke Forhæng og der forsvandt de. Om vel hendes Mand, hendes Døttre kom tilsyne? Nei! deres Raab, deres Suk lød endnu deroven fra; nær havde hun ganske glemt dem for den Døde.
"Now all the bells of heaven ring," said the little boy. "Mother, the sun is rising!" "Moder, nu ringer Himmeriges Klokker!" sagde Barnet. "Moder, nu staaer Solen op!"
A blinding light engulfed her, the child was gone, and she rose upward. She felt bitterly cold and lifted her head to see where she was. She was in the churchyard; she had been lying on the grave of her dead child. But in her dream God had guided her and taught her to understand. She fell on her knees and prayed, Og der strømmede et overvældende Lys mod hende; - Barnet var borte, og hun løftedes - det blev koldt rundt om hende, hun hævede sit Hoved og saae, at hun laae paa Kirkegaarden paa sit Barns Grav; men Gud var i Drømmen bleven en Støtte for hendes Fod, et Lys for hendes Forstand, hun bøiede sine Knæ og bad:
"Forgive me, Lord, that I would keep a soul from its flight toward you, and forgive me for forgetting my duties toward the living." In these words her heart found peace. The sun rose; a bird sang above her head and she heard it. The bells of the church rang for morning prayers. She felt the holiness of everything around her, and that sacred holiness was in her heart as well. She knew again her God and her duties. Longingly she ran toward her home. She bent over her sleeping husband and woke him with a kiss; and they talked, words that came from their hearts. And she was strong and yet at the same time gentle, as a wife should be. Her strength she found in the belief that God's will is always for the best. "Tilgiv mig, Herre min Gud! at jeg vilde holde en evig Sjæl fra sin Flugt, og at jeg kunde glemme mine Pligter mod de Levende, Du her gav mig!" Og ved disse Ord var det som om hendes Hjerte fandt Lettelse! Da brød Solen frem, en lille Fugl sang over hendes Hoved, og Kirkeklokkerne ringede til Morgensang. Der blev saa helligt rundt om, helligt som i hendes Hjerte! hun kjendte sin Gud, hun kjendte sine Pligter, og i Længsel skyndte hun sig til Hjemmet. Hun bøiede sig over Manden, hendes varme, inderlige Kys vækkede ham, og de talte Hjertets, Inderlighedens Ord, og hun var stærk og mild som Hustruen kan være det, fra hende kom Fortrøstningens Væld. "Guds Villie er altid den bedste!"
Her husband asked her, "Where did you get the strength to comfort others?" Og Manden spurgte hende: "hvorfra fik Du med Eet denne Kraft, dette trøstende Sind?"
She kissed him and she kissed her children. Og hun kyssede ham og kyssede sine Børn:
"From God," she said, "and from my dead child in his grave." "Jeg fik det fra Gud, ved Barnet i Graven!"

Copyright Anchor Books Doubleday
Hans Christian Andersen:
The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories

Translated from Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard

Copyright:
The Hans Christian Andersen Project