The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

Inchelina - Tommelise

1835

Once upon a time there was a woman whose only desire was to have a tiny little child. Now she had no idea where she could get one; so she went to an old witch and asked her: "Please, could you tell me where I could get a tiny little child? I would so love to have one." Der var engang en Kone, som saa gjerne vilde have sig et lille bitte Barn, men hun vidste slet ikke, hvor hun skulde faae et fra; saa gik hun hen til en gammel Hex og sagde til hende: "Jeg vilde saa inderlig gjerne have et lille Barn, vil Du ikke sige mig, hvor jeg dog skal faae et fra?"
"That is not so difficult," said the witch. "Here is a grain of barley; it is not the kind that grows in the farmer's fields or that you can feed to the chickens. Plant it in a flowerpot and watch what happens." "Jo, det skal vi nok komme ud af!" sagde Hexen. "Der har Du et Bygkorn, det er slet ikke af den Slags, som groer paa Bondemandens Mark, eller som Hønsene faae at spise, læg det i en Urtepotte, saa skal Du faae noget at see!"
"Thank you," said the woman. She handed the witch twelve pennies, and she went home to plant the grain of barley. No sooner was it in the earth than it started to sprout. A beautiful big flower grew up; it looked like a tulip that was just about to bloom. "Tak skal Du have!" sagde Konen og gav Hexen tolv Skilling, gik saa hjem, plantede Bygkornet, og strax voxte der en deilig stor Blomst op, den saae ganske ud, som en Tulipan, men Bladene lukkede sig tæt sammen, ligesom om den endnu var i Knop.
"What a lovely flower," said the woman, and kissed the red and yellow petals that were closed so tightly. With a snap they opened and one could see that it was a real tulip. In the center of the flower on the green stigma sat a tiny little girl. She was so beautiful and so delicate, and exactly one inch long. "I will call her Inchelina," thought the woman. "Det er en nydelig Blomst!" sagde Konen, og kyssede den paa de smukke røde og gule Blade, men lige i det hun kyssede, gav Blomsten et stort Knald, og aabnede sig. Det var en virkelig Tulipan, kunde man nu see, men midt inde i Blomsten, paa den grønne Stol, sad der en lille bitte Pige, saa fiin og nydelig, hun var ikke uden en Tomme lang, og derfor kaldtes hun Tommelise.
The lacquered shell of a walnut became Inchelina's cradle, the blue petals of violets her mattress, and a rose petal her cover. Here she slept at night; in the daytime she played on the table by the window. The woman had put a bowl of water there with a garland of flowers around it. In this tiny "lake" there floated a tulip petal, on which Inchelina could row from one side of the plate to the other, using two white horsehairs as oars; it was an exquisite sight. And Inchelina could sing, as no one has ever sung before--so clearly and delicately. En nydelig lakeret Valdnødskal fik hun til Vugge, blaa Violblade vare hendes Matrasser og et Rosenblad hendes Overdyne; der sov hun om Natten, men om Dagen legede hun paa Bordet, hvor Konen havde sat en Tallerken, som hun havde lagt en heel Krands om med Blomster, der stak deres Stilke ned i Vandet; her flød et stort Tulipanblad, og paa dette maatte Tommelise sidde og seile fra den ene Side af Tallerkenen til den anden; hun havde to hvide Hestehaar at roe med. Det saae just deiligt ud. Hun kunde ogsaa synge, o saa fiint og nydeligt, som man aldrig her havde hørt.
One night as she lay sleeping in her beautiful little bed a toad came into the room through a broken windowpane. The toad was big and wet and ugly; she jumped down upon the table where Inchelina was sleeping under her red rose petal. En Nat, som hun laae i sin smukke Seng, kom der en hæslig Skruptudse hoppende ind af Vinduet; der var en Rude itu. Skruptudsen var saa styg, stor og vaad, den hoppede lige ned paa Bordet, hvor Tommelise laae og sov under det røde Rosenblad.
"She would make a lovely wife for my son," said the toad; and grabbing the walnut shell in which Inchelina slept, she leaped through the broken window and down into the garden. "Det var en deilig Kone til min Søn!" sagde Skruptudsen, og saa tog hun fat i Valdnødskallen, hvor Tommelise sov, og hoppede bort med hende gjennem Ruden, ned i Haven.
On the banks of a broad stream, just where it was muddiest, lived the toad with her son. He had taken after his mother and was very ugly. "Croak . . . Croak . . . Croak!" was all he said when he saw the beautiful little girl in the walnut shell. Der løb en stor, bred Aa; men lige ved Bredden var det sumpet og muddret; her boede Skruptudsen med sin Søn. Uh! han var ogsaa styg og fæl, lignede ganske sin Moder: "koax, koax, brekke-ke-kex!" det var alt hvad han kunde sige, da han saae den nydelige lille Pige i Valdnødskallen.
"Don't talk so loud or you will wake her," scolded the mother. "She could run away and we wouldn't be able to catch her, for she is as light as the down of a swan. I will put her on a water-lily leaf, it will be just like an island to her. In the meantime, we shall get your apartment, down in the mud, ready for your marriage." "Snak ikke saa høit, for ellers vaagner hun!" sagde den gamle Skruptudse, "hun kunde endnu løbe fra os, for hun er saa let, som et Svaneduun! vi ville sætte hende ud i Aaen paa et af de brede Aakandeblade, det er for hende, der er saa let og lille, ligesom en Ø! der kan hun ikke løbe bort, mens vi gjøre Stadsestuen istand nede under Mudderet, hvor I skulle boe og bygge!"
Out in the stream grew many water lilies, and all of their leaves looked as if they were floating in the water. The biggest of them was the farthest from shore; on that one the old toad put Inchelina's little bed. Ude i Aaen voxte der saa mange Aakander med de brede grønne Blade, der see ud som de flyde oven paa Vandet; det Blad, som var længst ude, var ogsaa det allerstørste; der svømmede den gamle Skruptudse ud og satte Valdnødskallen med Tommelise.
When the poor little girl woke in the morning and saw where she was--on a green leaf with water all around her--she began to cry bitterly. There was no way of getting to shore at all. Den lillebitte Stakkel vaagnede ganske tidlig om Morgenen, og da hun saae, hvor hun var, begyndte hun saa bitterligt at græde, for der var Vand paa alle Sider af det store grønne Blad, hun kunde slet ikke komme i Land.
The old toad was very busy down in her mud house, decorating the walls with reeds and yellow flowers that grew near the shore. She meant to do her best for her new daughter-in-law. After she had finished, she and her ugly son swam out to the water-lily leaf to fetch Inchelina's bed. It was to be put in the bridal chamber. The old toad curtsied and that is not easy to do while you are swimming; then she said, "Here is my son. He is to be your husband; you two will live happily down in the mud." Den gamle Skruptudse sad nede i Mudderet og pyntede sin Stue op med Siv og gule Aaknappe, - der skulde være rigtigt net for den nye Svigerdatter, - svømmede saa med den stygge Søn ud til Bladet, hvor Tommelise stod, de vilde hente hendes pæne Seng, den skulde sættes op i Brudekammeret, før hun selv kom der. Den gamle Skruptudse neiede saa dybt i Vandet for hende og sagde: "her skal Du see min Søn, han skal være Din Mand, og I skal boe saa deiligt nede i Mudderet!"
"Croak! . . Croak!" was all the son said. "Koax, koax! brekkekekex!" det var Alt, hvad Sønnen kunde sige.
Then they took the bed and swam away with it. Poor Inchelina sat on the green leaf and wept and wept, for she did not want to live with the ugly toad and have her hideous son as a husband. The little fishes that were swimming about in the water had heard what the old toad said; they stuck their heads out of the water to take a look at the tiny girl. When they saw how beautiful she was, it hurt them to think that she should have to marry the ugly toad and live in the mud. They decided that they would not let it happen, and gathered around the green stalk that held the leaf anchored to the bottom of the stream. They all nibbled on the stem, and soon the leaf was free. It drifted down the stream, bearing Inchelina far away from the ugly toad. Saa toge de den nydelige lille Seng og svømmede bort med den, men Tommelise sad ganske alene og græd paa det grønne Blad, for hun vilde ikke boe hos den fæle Skruptudse eller have hendes hæslige Søn til sin Mand. De smaa Fiske, som svømmede nede i Vandet, havde nok seet Skruptudsen og hørt hvad hun sagde, derfor stak de Hovederne op, de vilde dog see den lille Pige. Saa snart de fik hende at see, fandt de hende saa nydelig, og det gjorde dem saa ondt, at hun skulde ned til den stygge Skruptudse. Nei, det skulde aldrig skee. De flokkede sig nede i Vandet rundt om den grønne Stilk, der holdt Bladet, hun stod paa, gnavede med Tænderne Stilken over, og saa flød Bladet ned af Aaen, bort med Tommelise, langtbort, hvor Skruptudsen ikke kunde komme.
As Inchelina sailed by, the little birds on the shore saw her and sang, "What a lovely little girl." Farther and farther sailed the leaf with its little passenger, taking her on a journey to foreign lands. Tommelise seilede forbi saa mange Stæder, og de smaa Fugle sad i Buskene, saae hende og sang "hvilken nydelig lille Jomfrue!" Bladet med hende svømmede længer og længer bort; saaledes reiste Tommelise udenlands.
For a long time a lovely white butterfly flew around her, then landed on the leaf. It had taken a fancy to Inchelina. The tiny girl laughed, for she was so happy to have escaped the toad; and the stream was so beautiful, golden in the sunshine. She took the little silk ribbon which she wore around her waist and tied one end of it to the butterfly and the other to the water-lily leaf. Now the leaf raced down the stream--and so did Inchelina, for she was standing on it. En nydelig lille hvid Sommerfugl blev ved at flyve rundt omkring hende, og satte sig tilsidst ned paa Bladet, for den kunde saa godt lide Tommelise, og hun var saa fornøiet, for nu kunde Skruptudsen ikke naae hende og der var saa deiligt, hvor hun seilede; Solen skinnede paa Vandet, det var ligesom det deiligste Guld. Saa tog hun sit Livbaand, bandt den ene Ende om Sommerfuglen, den anden Ende af Baandet satte hun fast i Bladet; det gled da meget hurtigere afsted og hun med, for hun stod jo paa Bladet.
At that moment a big May bug flew by; when it spied Inchelina, it swooped down and with its claws grabbed the poor girl around her tiny waist and flew up into a tree with her. The leaf floated on down the stream, and the butterfly had to follow it. I det samme kom der en stor Oldenborre flyvende, den fik hende at see og i Øieblikket slog den sin Klo om hendes smækkre Liv og fløi op i Træet med hende, men det grønne Blad svømmede ned af Aaen og Sommerfuglen fløi med, for han var bundet til Bladet og kunde ikke komme løs.
Oh God, little Inchelina was terrified as the May bug flew away with her, but stronger than her fear was her grief for the poor little white butterfly that she had chained to the leaf with her ribbon. If he did not get loose, he would starve to death. The May bug didn't care what happened to the butterfly. He placed Inchelina on the biggest leaf on the tree. He gave her honey from the flowers to eat, and told her that she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen, even though she didn't look like a May bug. Soon all the other May bugs that lived in the tree came visiting. Two young lady May bugs--they were still unmarried--wiggled their antennae and said: "She has only two legs, how wretched. No antennae and a thin waist, how disgusting! She looks like a human being: how ugly!" All the other female May bugs agreed with them. The May bug who had caught Inchelina still thought her lovely; but when all the others kept insisting that she was ugly, he soon was convinced of it too. Now he didn't want her any longer, and put her down on a daisy at the foot of the tree and told her she could go wherever she wanted to, for all he cared. Poor Inchelina cried; she thought it terrible to be so ugly that even a May bug would not want her, and that in spite of her being more beautiful than you can imagine, more lovely than the petal of the most beautiful rose. Gud, hvor den stakkels Tommelise blev forskrækket, da Oldenborren fløi op i Træet med hende, men hun var dog allermeest bedrøvet for den smukke, hvide Sommerfugl, hun havde bundet fast til Bladet; dersom han nu ikke kunde komme løs, maatte han jo sulte ihjel. Men det brød Oldenborren sig ikke noget om. Den satte sig med hende paa det største, grønne Blad i Træet, gav hende det Søde af Blomsterne at spise og sagde, at hun var saa nydelig, skjøndt hun slet ikke lignede en Oldenborre. Siden kom alle de andre Oldenborrer, der boede i Træet, og gjorde Visit; de saae paa Tommelise, og Frøken Oldenborrerne trak paa Følehornene og sagde: "hun har dog ikke mere end to Been, det seer ynkeligt ud. Hun har ingen Følehorn!" sagde den anden. "Hun er saa smækker i Livet, fy! hun seer ud ligesom et Menneske! Hvor hun er styg!" sagde alle Hun-Oldenborrerne, og saa var Tommelise dog saa nydelig; det syntes ogsaa den Oldenborre, som havde taget hende, men da alle de andre sagde, hun var hæslig, saa troede han det tilsidst ogsaa og ville slet ikke have hende; hun kunde gaae, hvor hun vilde. De fløi ned af Træet med hende og satte hende paa en Gaaseurt; der græd hun, fordi hun var saa styg, at Oldenborrerne ikke vilde have hende, og saa var hun dog den deiligste, man kunde tænke sig, saa fiin og klar som det skjønneste Rosenblad.
All summer long poor Inchelina lived all alone in the forest. She wove a hammock out of grass and hung it underneath a dock leaf so that it would not rain on her while she slept. She ate the honey in the flowers and drank the dew that was on their leaves every morning. Summer and autumn passed. But then came winter: the long, cold winter. All the birds that had sung so beautifully flew away. The flowers withered, the trees lost their leaves; and the dock leaf that had protected her rolled itself up and became a shriveled yellow stalk. She was so terribly cold. Her clothes were in shreds; and she was so thin and delicate. Poor Inchelina, she was bound to freeze to death. It started to snow and each snowflake that fell on her was like a whole shovelful of snow would be to us, because we are so big, and she was only one inch tall. She wrapped herself in a wizened leaf, but it gave no warmth and she shivered from the cold. Hele Sommeren igjennem levede den stakkels Tommelise ganske alene i den store Skov. Hun flettede sig en Seng af Græsstraa og hang den under et stort Skræppeblad, saa kunde det ikke regne paa hende; hun pillede det Søde af Blomsterne og spiste, og drak af Duggen, der hver Morgen stod paa Bladene; saaledes gik Sommer og Efteraar, men nu kom Vinteren, den kolde, lange Vinter. Alle Fuglene, der havde sjunget saa smukt for hende, fløi deres Vei, Træerne og Blomsterne visnede, det store Skræppeblad, hun havde boet under, rullede sammen og blev kun en guul, vissen Stilk, og hun frøs saa forskrækkeligt, for hendes Klæder vare itu og hun var selv saa fiin og lille, den stakkels Tommelise, hun maatte fryse ihjel. Det begyndte at snee og hver Sneefnug, der faldt paa hende, var, som naar man kaster en heel Skuffe fuld paa os, thi vi ere store og hun var kun en Tomme lang. Saa svøbte hun sig ind i et vissent Blad, men det vilde ikke varme, hun rystede af Kulde.
Not far from the forest was a big field where grain had grown; only a few dry stubbles still rose from the frozen ground, pointing up to the heavens. To Inchelina these straws were like a forest. Trembling, she wandered through them and came to the entrance of a field mouse's house. It was only a little hole in the ground. But deep down below the mouse lived in warmth and comfort, with a full larder and a nice kitchen. Like a beggar child, Inchelina stood outside the door and begged for a single grain of barley. It was several days since she had last eaten. Tæt udenfor Skoven, hvor hun nu var kommet, laae en stor Kornmark, men Kornet var forlænge siden borte, kun de nøgne, tørre Stubbe stode op af den frosne Jord. De vare ligesom en heel Skov for hende at gaae imellem, o, hun rystede saadan af Kulde. Saa kom hun til Markmusens Dør. Den var et lille Hul inde under Korn-Stubbene. Der boede Markmusen luunt og godt, havde hele Stuen fuld af Korn, et deiligt Kjøkken og Spiiskammer. Den stakkels Tommelise stillede sig indenfor Døren, ligesom en anden fattig Tiggerpige og bad om et lille Stykke af et Bygkorn, for hun havde i to Dage ikke faaet det mindste at spise.
"Poor little wretch," said the field mouse, for she had a kind heart. "Come down into my warm living room and dine with me." "Din lille Stakkel!" sagde Markmusen, for det var igrunden en god gammel Markmuus, "kom Du ind i min varme Stue og spiis med mig!"
The field mouse liked Inchelina. "You can stay the winter," she said. "But you must keep the room tidy and tell me a story every day, for I like a good story." Inchelina did what the kind old mouse demanded, and she lived quite happily. Da hun nu syntes godt om Tommelise, sagde hun: "Du kan gjerne blive hos mig i Vinter, men Du skal holde min Stue pæn reen og fortælle mig Historier, for dem holder jeg meget af," og Tommelise gjorde, hvad den gode, gamle Markmuus forlangte og havde det da grumme godt.
"Soon we shall have a visitor," said the mouse. "Once a week my neighbor comes. He lives even more comfortably than I do. He has a drawing room, and wears the most exquisite black fur coat. If only he would marry you, then you would be well provided for. He can't see you, for he is blind, so you will have to tell him the very best of your stories." "Nu faae vi nok snart Besøg!" sagde Markmusen, "min Naboe pleier hver Ugesdag at besøge mig. Han sidder bedre endnu inden Vægge, end jeg; har store Sale og gaaer med saadan en deilig, sort Fløielspels! bare Du kunde faae ham til Mand, saa var Du godt forsørget; men han kan ikke see. Du maa fortælle ham de nydeligste Historier, Du veed!"
But Inchelina did not want to marry the mouse's neighbor, for he was a mole. The next day he came visiting, dressed in his black velvet fur coat. The field mouse had said that he was both rich and wise. His house was twenty times as big as the mouse's; and learned he was, too; but he did not like the sun and the beautiful flowers, he said they were "abominable," for he had never seen them. Inchelina had to sing for him; and when she sang "Frere Jacques, dormez vous?" he fell in love with her because of her beautiful voice; but he didn't show it, for he was sober-minded and never made a spectacle of himself. Men det brød Tommelise sig ikke om, hun vilde slet ikke have Naboen, for han var en Muldvarp. Han kom og gjorde Visit i sin sorte Fløielspels, han var saa riig og saa lærd, sagde Markmusen, hans Huusleilighed var ogsaa over tyve Gange større, end Markmusens, og Lærdom havde han, men Solen og de smukke Blomster kunde han slet ikke lide, dem snakkede han ondt om, for han havde aldrig seet dem. Tommelise maatte synge og hun sang baade "Oldenborre flyv, flyv!" og "Munken gaaer i Enge," saa blev Muldvarpen forliebt i hende, for den smukke Stemmes Skyld, men han sagde ikke noget, han var saadan en sindig Mand.
He had recently dug a passage from his own house to theirs, and he invited Inchelina and the field mouse to use it as often as they pleased. He told them not to be afraid of the dead bird in the corridor. It had died only a few days before. It was still whole and had all its feathers. By chance it had been buried in his passageway. Han havde nylig gravet sig en lang Gang gjennem Jorden fra sit til deres Huus, i den fik Markmusen og Tommelise Lov til at spadsere, naar de vilde. Men han bad dem ikke blive bange for den døde Fugl, som laae i Gangen; det var en heel Fugl med Fjær og Næb, der vist var død for ganske nylig, da Vinteren begyndte, og nu gravet ned, just hvor han havde gjort sin Gang.
The mole took a piece of dry rotten wood in his mouth; it shone as brightly as fire in the darkness; then he led the way down through the long corridor. When they came to the place where the dead bird lay, the mole made a hole with his broad nose, up through the earth, so that light could come through. Almost blocking the passageway was a dead swallow, with its beautiful wings pressed close to its body, its feet almost hidden by feathers, and its head nestled under a wing. The poor bird undoubtedly had frozen to death. Inchelina felt a great sadness; she had loved all the birds that twittered and sang for her that summer. The mole kicked the bird with one of his short legs and said, "Now it has stopped chirping. What a misfortune it is to be born a bird. Thank God, none of my children will be born birds! All they can do is chirp, and then die of starvation when winter comes." Muldvarpen tog et Stykke Trøske i Munden, for det skinner jo ligesom Ild i Mørke, og gik saa foran og lyste for dem i den lange, mørke Gang; da de saa kom, hvor den døde Fugl laae, satte Muldvarpen sin brede Næse mod Loftet og stødte Jorden op, saa der blev et stort Hul, som Lyset kunde skinne ned igjennem. Midt paa Gulvet laae en død Svale, med de smukke Vinger trykkede fast ind om Siderne, Benene og Hovedet trukne ind under Fjedrene; den stakkels Fugl var bestemt død af Kulde. Det gjorde Tommelise saa ondt for den, hun holdt saa meget af alle de smaa Fugle, de havde jo hele Sommeren sjunget og qviddret saa smukt for hende, men Muldvarpen stødte til den med sine korte Been og sagde: "Nu piber den ikke meer! det maa være ynkeligt at blive født til en lille Fugl! Gud skee Lov, at ingen af mine Børn blive det; saadan en Fugl har jo ingen Ting uden sit Quivit og maa sulte ihjel til Vinteren!"
"Yes, that's what all sensible people think," said the field mouse. "What does all that chirping lead to? Starvation and cold when winter comes. But I suppose they think it is romantic." "Ja, det maa I, som en fornuftig Mand, nok sige," sagde Markmusen. "Hvad har Fuglen for al sit Quivit, naar Vinteren kommer? Den maa sulte og fryse; men det skal vel ogsaa være saa stort!"
Inchelina didn't say anything, but when the mouse and mole had their backs turned, she leaned down and kissed the closed eye of the swallow. "Maybe that was one of the birds that sang so beautifully for me this summer," she thought. "How much joy you gave me, beautiful little bird." Tommelise sagde ikke noget, men da de to andre vendte Ryggen til Fuglen, bøiede hun sig ned, skjød Fjedrene tilside, der laae over dens Hoved, og kyssede den paa de lukkede Øine. "Maaskee var det den, som sang saa smukt for mig i Sommer," tænkte hun, "hvor den skaffede mig megen Glæde, den kjære, smukke Fugl!"
The mole closed the hole through which the daylight had entered and then escorted the ladies home. That night Inchelina could not sleep; she rose and wove as large a blanket as she could, out of hay. She carried it down in the dark passage and covered the little bird with it. In the field mouse's living room she had found bits of cotton; she tucked them under the swallow wherever she could, to protect it from the cold earth. Muldvarpen stoppede nu Hullet til, som Dagen skinnede igjennem, og fulgte saa Damerne hjem. Men om Natten kunde Tommelise slet ikke sove, saa stod hun op af sin Seng og flettede af Hø et stort smukt Teppe, og det bar hun ned og bredte rundt om den døde Fugl, lagde blød Bomuld, hun havde fundet i Markmusens Stue, paa Siderne af Fuglen, for at den kunde ligge varmt i den kolde Jord.
"Good-by, beautiful bird," she said. "Good-by, and thank you for the songs you sang for me when it was summer and all the trees were green and the sun warmed us." She put her head on the bird's breast; then she jumped up! Something was ticking inside: it was the bird's heart, for the swallow was not really dead, and now the warmth had revived it. "Farvel Du smukke lille Fugl!" sagde hun, "Farvel og Tak for din deilige Sang i Sommer, da alle Træerne vare grønne og Solen skinnede saa varmt paa os!" Saa lagde hun sit Hoved op til Fuglens Bryst, men blev i det samme ganske forskrækket, thi det var ligesom noget bankede der indenfor. Det var Fuglens Hjerte. Fuglen var ikke død, den laae i Dvale, og var nu bleven opvarmet og fik Liv igjen.
In the fall all the swallows fly to the warm countries. If one tarries too long and is caught by the first frost, he lies down on the ground as if he were dead, and the cold snow covers him. Om Efteraaret saa flyve alle Svalerne bort til de varme Lande, men er der een der forsinker sig, saa fryser den saaledes, at den falder ganske død ned, bliver liggende, hvor den falder, og den kolde Snee lægger sig ovenover.
Inchelina shook with fear. The swallow was huge to a girl so tiny that she only measured an inch. But she gathered her courage and pressed the blanket closer to the bird's body. She even went to fetch the little mint leaf that she herself used as a cover and put it over the bird's head. Tommelise rystede ordentligt, saa forskrækket var hun blevet, for Fuglen var jo en stor, stor en imod hende, der kun var en Tomme lang, men hun tog dog Mod til sig, lagde Bomulden tættere om den stakkels Svale, og hentede et Krusemynteblad, hun selv havde havt til Overdyne, og lagde det over Fuglens Hoved.
The next night she sneaked down to the passageway again; the bird was better although still very weak. He opened his eyes just long enough to see Inchelina standing in the dark with a little piece of dry rotten wood in her hand, as a lamp. Næste Nat listede hun sig igjen ned til den, og da var den ganske levende, men saa mat, den kunde kun et lille Øieblik lukke sine Øine op og see Tommelise, der stod med et Stykke Trøske i Haanden, for anden Lygte havde hun ikke.
"Thank you, you sweet little child," said the sick swallow, "I feel so much better. I am not cold now. Soon I shall be strong again and can fly out into the sunshine." "Tak skal Du have, Du nydelige lille Barn!" sagde den syge Svale til hende, "jeg er blevet saa deilig opvarmet! snart faaer jeg mine Kræfter og kan flyve igjen, ude i det varme Solskin!"
"Oh no," she said. "It is cold and snowing outside now and you would freeze. Stay down here in your warm bed, I will nurse you." "0!" sagde hun, "det er saa koldt udenfor, det sneer og fryser! bliv Du i din varme Seng, jeg skal nok pleie Dig!"
She brought the swallow water on a leaf. After he had drunk it, he told her his story. He had torn his wing on a rosebush, and therefore could not fly as swiftly as the other swallows, so he had stayed behind when the others left; then one morning he had fainted from cold. That was all he could remember. He did not know how he came to be in the mole's passageway. Hun bragte da Svalen Vand i et Blomsterblad, og den drak og fortalte hende, hvorledes den havde revet sin ene Vinge paa en Tornebusk og kunde derfor ikke flyve saa stærkt, som de andre Svaler, som da fløi bort, langt bort til de varme Lande. Den var da tilsidst faldet ned paa Jorden, men mere kunde den ikke huske, og vidste slet ikke, hvorledes den var kommet her.
The bird stayed all winter. Inchelina took good care of him, grew very fond of him, and breathed not a word about him to either the mole or the field mouse, for she knew that they didn't like the poor swallow. Hele Vinteren blev den nu hernede og Tommelise var god imod den og holdt saa meget af den; hverken Muldvarpen eller Markmusen fik det mindste at vide derom, for de kunde jo ikke lide den stakkels fattige Svale.
As soon as spring came and the warmth of the sun could be felt through the earth, the swallow said good-by to Inchelina, who opened the hole that the mole had made. The sun shone down so pleasantly. The swallow asked her if she did not want to come along with him; she could sit on his back and he would fly with her out into the great forest. But Inchelina knew that the field mouse would be sad and lonely if she left. Saasnart Foraaret kom og Solen varmede ind i Jorden, sagde Svalen Farvel til Tommelise, der aabnede Hullet, som Muldvarpen havde gjort ovenover. Solen skinnede saa deiligt ind til dem, og Svalen spurgte, om hun ikke vilde følge med, hun kunde sidde paa dens Ryg, de vilde flyve langt ud i den grønne Skov. Men Tommelise vidste, det vilde bedrøve den gamle Markmuus, om hun saaledes forlod hende.
"I cannot," she said. The bird thanked her once more. "Farewell. . . . Farewell, lovely girl," he sang, and flew out into the sunshine. Inchelina's eyes filled with tears as she watched the swallow fly away, for she cared so much for the bird. "Nei, jeg kan ikke!" sagde Tommelise. "Farvel, farvel! Du gode, nydelige Pige!" sagde Svalen og fløi ud i Solskinnet. Tommelise saae efter den, og Vandet kom i hendes Øine, for hun holdt saa meget af den stakkels Svale.
"Tweet . . . tweet," he sang, and disappeared in the forest. "Qvivit! qvivit!" sang Fuglen og fløi ind i den grønne Skov.
Poor Inchelina was miserable. Soon the grain would be so tall that the field would be in shade, and she would no longer be able to enjoy the warm sunshine. Tommelise var saa bedrøvet. Hun fik slet ikke Lov at komme ud i det varme Solskin; Kornet, der var saaet paa Ageren, henover Markmusens Huus, voxte ogsaa høit op i Veiret, det var en heel tyk Skov for den stakkels lille Pige, som jo kun var en Tomme lang.
"This summer you must spend getting your trousseau ready," said the field mouse, for the sober mole in the velvet coat had proposed to her. "You must have both woolens and linen to wear and to use in housekeeping when you become Mrs. Mole." "Nu skal Du i Sommer sye paa dit Udstyr!" sagde Markmusen til hende, for nu havde Naboen, den kjedelige Muldvarp i den sorte Fløielspels, friet til hende. "Du skal have baade Uldent og Linned! Du skal have at sidde og ligge paa, naar Du bliver Muldvarpens Kone!"
Inchelina had to spin by hand and the field mouse hired four spiders to weave both night and day. Every evening the mole came visiting, but all he talked about was how nice it would be when the summer was over. He didn't like the way the sun baked the earth; it made it so hard to dig in. As soon as autumn came they would get married. But Inchelina was not happy; she thought the mole was dull and she did not love him. Every day, at sunrise and at sunset, she tiptoed to the entrance of the field mouse's house, so that when the wind blew and parted the grain, she could see the blue sky above her. She thought of how light and beautiful it was out there, and she longed for her friend the swallow but he never came back. "He is probably far away in the wonderful green forest!" she thought. Tommelise maatte spinde paa Haandteen, og Markmusen leiede fire Ædderkoppe til at spinde og væve Nat og Dag. Hver Aften gjorde Muldvarpen Visit og snakkede da altid om, at naar Sommeren fik Ende, saa skinnede Solen ikke nær saa varmt, den brændte jo nu Jorden fast, som en Steen; ja naar Sommeren var ude, saa skulde Brylluppet staae med Tommelise; men hun var slet ikke fornøiet, for hun holdt ikke noget af den kjedelige Muldvarp. Hver Morgen, naar Solen stod op, og hver Aften, naar den gik ned, listede hun sig ud i Døren og naar saa Vinden skilte Toppene af Kornet ad, saa at hun kunde see den blaa Himmel, tænkte hun paa, hvor lyst og smukt der var herude, og ønskede saameget, at hun igjen maatte faae den kjære Svale at see; men den kom aldrig mere, den fløi vist langt borte i den smukke grønne Skov.
Autumn came and Inchelina's trousseau was finished. Da det nu blev Efteraar, havde Tommelise hele sit Udstyr færdigt.
"In four weeks we shall hold your wedding," said the field mouse. Inchelina cried and said she did not want to marry the boring old mole. "Om fire Uger skal Du have Bryllup!" sagde Markmusen til hende. Men Tommelise græd og sagde, hun vilde ikke have den kjedelige Muldvarp.
"Fiddlesticks!" squeaked the field mouse. "Don't be stubborn or I will bite you with my white teeth. You are getting an excellent husband; he has a velvet coat so fine that the queen does not have one that is better. He has both a larder and kitchen, you ought to thank God for giving you such a good husband." "Snik snak!" sagde Markmusen, "gjør Dig ikke obsternasig, for ellers skal jeg bide Dig med min hvide Tand! Det er jo en deilig Mand, Du faaer! hans sorte Fløielspels har Dronningen selv ikke Mage til! Han har baade i Kjøkken og Kjælder. Tak Du Gud for ham!"
The day of the wedding came; the mole had already arrived. Inchelina grieved. Now she would never see the warm sun again. The mole lived far down under the ground, for he didn't like the sun. While she lived with the field mouse, she at least had been allowed to walk as far as the entrance of the little house and look at the sun. Saa skulde de have Bryllup. Muldvarpen var allerede kommet, for at hente Tommelise; hun skulde boe med ham, dybt nede under Jorden, aldrig komme ud i den varme Sol, for den kunde han ikke lide. Det stakkels Barn var saa bedrøvet, hun skulde nu sige den smukke Sol farvel, som hun dog hos Markmusen havde faaet Lov at see paa i Døren.
"Farewell. . . . Farewell, you beautiful sun!" Inchelina lifted her hands up toward the sky and then took a few steps out upon the field. The harvest was over and only the stubbles were left. She saw a little red flower. Embracing it, she said: "Farewell! And give my love to the swallow if you ever see him." "Farvel, Du klare Sol!" sagde hun og rakte Armene høit op i Veiret, gik ogsaa en lille Smule udenfor Markmusens Huus; thi nu var Kornet høstet, og her stod kun de tørre Stubbe. "Farvel, farvel!," sagde hun og slog sine smaa Arme om en lille rød Blomst, der stod. "Hils den lille Svale fra mig, dersom Du faaer den at see!"
"Tweet . . . Tweet. . ." something said in the air above her. She looked up. It was the little swallow. As soon as he saw Inchelina he chirped with joy. And she told the bird how she had to marry the awful mole, and live forever down under the ground, and never see the sun again. The very telling of her future brought tears to her eyes. "Qvivit, qvivit!" sagde det i det samme over hendes Hoved; hun saae op, det var den lille Svale, der just kom forbi. Saasnart den saae Tommelise, blev den saa fornøiet; hun fortalte den, hvor nødig hun vilde have den stygge Muldvarp til Mand, og at hun saa skulde boe dybt under Jorden, hvor aldrig Solen skinnede. Hun kunde ikke lade være at græde derved.
"Now comes the cold winter," said the swallow, "and I fly far away to the warm countries. Why don't you come with me? You can sit on my back; tie yourself on so you won't fall off and we will, fly far away from the ugly mole and his dismal house; across the great mountains, to the countries where the sun shines more beautifully than here and the loveliest flowers grow and it is always summer. Fly with me, Inchelina. You saved my life when I lay freezing in the cold cellar of the earth." "Nu kommer den kolde Vinter," sagde den lille Svale, "jeg flyver langt bort til de varme Lande, vil Du følge med mig? Du kan sidde paa min Ryg! bind Dig kun fast med dit Livbaand, saa flyve vi bort fra den stygge Muldvarp og hans mørke Stue, langt bort over Bjergene til de varme Lande, hvor Solen skinner smukkere end her, hvor der altid er Sommer og deilige Blomster. Flyv kun med mig, Du søde lille Tommelise, som har reddet mit Liv, da jeg laae forfrossen i den mørke Jordkjelder!"
"Yes, I will come," cried Inchelina, and climbed up on the bird's back. She tied herself with a ribbon to one of his feathers, and the swallow flew high up into the air, above the forests and lakes and over the high mountains that are always snow-covered. Inchelina froze in the cold air, but she crawled underneath the warm feathers of the bird and only stuck her little head out to see all the beauty below her. "Ja, jeg vil følge med Dig!" sagde Tommelise, og satte sig op paa Fuglens Ryg, med Fødderne paa dens udbredte Vinge, bandt sit Belte fast i een af de stærkeste Fjær og saa fløi Svalen høit op i Luften, over Skov og over Sø, høit op over de store Bjerge, hvor der altid ligger Snee, og Tommelise frøs i den kolde Luft, men saa krøb hun ind under Fuglens varme Fjær og stak kun det lille Hoved frem for at see al den Deilighed under sig.
They came to the warm countries. And it was true what the swallow had said: the sun shone more brightly and the sky seemed twice as high. Along the fences grew the loveliest green and blue grapes. From the trees in the forests hung oranges and lemons. Along the roads the most beautiful children ran, chasing many-colored butterflies. The swallow flew even farther south, and the landscape beneath them became more and more beautiful. Near a forest, on the shores of a lake, stood the ruins of an ancient temple; ivy wound itself around the white pillars. On top of these were many swallows' nests and one of them belonged to the little swallow that was carrying Inchelina. Saa kom de til de varme Lande. Der skinnede Solen meget klarere end her, Himlen var to Gange saa høi og paa Grøfter og Gjærder voxte de deiligste grønne og blaa Viindruer. I Skovene hang Citroner og Appelsiner, her duftede af Myrther og Krusemynter, og paa Landeveien løb de nydeligste Børn og legede med store brogede Sommerfugle. Men Svalen fløi endnu længer bort, og det blev smukkere og smukkere. Under de deiligste grønne Træer ved den blaa Søe, stod et skinnende hvidt Marmorslot, fra de gamle Tider, Viinrankerne snoede sig op om de høie Piller; der øverst oppe vare mange Svalereder, og i en af disse boede Svalen, som bar Tommelise.
"This is my house," he said. "Now choose for yourself one of the beautiful flowers down below and I will set you down on it, it will make a lovely home for you." "Her er mit Huus!" sagde Svalen; "men vil Du nu selv søge Dig een af de prægtige Blomster ud, som groe dernede, saa skal jeg sætte Dig der og Du skal faae det saa nydeligt, Du vil ønske det!"
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Inchelina, and clapped her hands. "Det var deiligt!" sagde hun, og klappede med de smaa Hænder.
Among the broken white marble pillars grew tall, lovely white flowers. The swallow sat her down on the leaves of one of them; and to Inchelina's astonishment, she saw a little man sitting in the center of the flower. He was white and almost transparent, as if he were made of glass. On his head he wore a golden crown. On his back were a pair of wings. He was no taller than Inchelina. In every one of the flowers there lived such a tiny angel; and this one was the king of them all. Der laae en stor hvid Marmorsøile, som var faldet om paa Jorden og knækket i tre Stykker, men mellem disse voxte de smukkeste store hvide Blomster. Svalen fløi ned med Tommelise og satte hende paa et af de brede Blade; men hvor forundret blev hun ikke! der sad en lille Mand midt i Blomsten, saa hvid og gjennemsigtig, som han var af Glas; den nydeligste Guldkrone havde han paa Hovedet og de deiligste klare Vinger paa Skuldrene, selv var han ikke større end Tommelise. Han var Blomstens Engel. I hver Blomst boede der saadan en lille Mand eller Kone, men denne var Konge over dem allesammen.
"How handsome he is!" whispered Inchelina to the swallow. The tiny little king was terrified of the bird, who was several times larger than he was. But when he saw Inchelina he forgot his fear. She was the loveliest creature he had ever seen; and so he took the crown off his own head and put it on hers. Then he asked her what her name was and whether she wanted to be queen of the flowers. Now here was a better husband than old mother toad's ugly son or the mole with the velvet coat. Inchelina said yes; and from every flower came a lovely little angel to pay homage to their queen. How lovely and delicate they all were; and they brought her gifts, and the best of these was a pair of wings, so she would be able to fly, as they all did, from flower to flower. It was a day of happiness. And the swallow, from his nest in the temple, sang for them as well as he could. But in his heart he was ever so sad, for he, too, loved Inchelina and had hoped never to be parted from her. "Gud, hvor han er smuk!" hvidskede Tommelise til Svalen. Den lille Prinds blev saa forskrækket for Svalen, thi den var jo en heel Kjæmpefugl imod ham, der var saa lille og fiin, men da han saae Tommelise, blev han saa glad, hun var den allersmukkeste Pige, han endnu havde seet. Derfor tog han sin Guldkrone af sit Hoved og satte paa hendes, spurgte, hvad hun hed og om hun vilde være hans Kone, saa skulde hun blive Dronning over alle Blomsterne! Ja det var rigtignok en Mand, anderledes, end Skruptudsens Søn og Muldvarpen med den sorte Fløielspels. Hun sagde derfor ja til den deilige Prinds og fra hver Blomst kom en Dame eller Herre, saa nydelig, det var en Lyst, hver bragte Tommelise en Present, men den bedste af alle var et Par smukke Vinger af en stor hvid Flue; de bleve hæftede paa Tommelises Ryg og saa kunde hun ogsaa flyve fra Blomst til Blomst; der var saadan en Glæde og den lille Svale sad oppe i sin Rede og sang for dem, saa godt den kunde, men i Hjertet var den dog bedrøvet, for den holdt saa meget af Tommelise og vilde aldrig have været skilt fra hende.
"You shall not be called Inchelina any longer," said the king. "It is an ugly name. From now on we shall call you Maja." "Du skal ikke hedde Tommelise!" sagde Blomstens Engel til hende, "det er et stygt Navn, og Du er saa smuk. Vi ville kalde Dig Maja!"
"Farewell! Farewell!" called the little swallow. He flew back to the north, away from the warm countries. He came to Denmark; and there he has his nest, above the window of a man who can tell fairy tales. "Tweet . . . tweet," sang the swallow. And the man heard it and wrote down the whole story. "Farvel! farvel!" sagde den lille Svale, og fløi igjen bort fra de varme Lande, langt bort tilbage til Danmark; der havde den en lille Rede over Vinduet, hvor Manden boer, som kan fortælle Eventyr, for ham sang den "quivit, quivit!" derfra have vi hele Historien.

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