The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

The Last Pearl - Den sidste Perle.

1855

The Last Pearl Den sidste Perle.
It was a well-to-do home, a happy home. Everyone was jubilant: master, mistress, friends, and servants. That very day an heir had been born, and mother and son were fine. Der var et rigt Huus, et lykkeligt Huus; Alt derinde, Herskab og Tyende, Vennerne med vare lyksalige og glade, der var i Dag født en Arving, en Søn; og Moder og Barn befandt sig vel.
The lamp in the cozy bedchamber was shaded. Heavy silk curtains were drawn in front of the windows. The carpets on the floor were thick and soft like moss. Everything in the room seemed to be slumbering. The night nurse was asleep, too; which did no great harm, for everything in that home breathed security. The guardian spirit of the house stood by the bed; the child was asleep next to the mother. Around the little boy a circle of stars appeared; they were the pearls from fortune's necklace. The good fairies had come and given gifts to the newly born. Health, wealth, love, and happiness: everything that man could wish for here on earth. Lampen i det hyggelige Sovekammer var halv dækket til, svære Silkegardiner af kostbare Stoffer hang tæt trukne til for Vinduerne. Gulvtæppet var tykt og blødt, som et Mos, Alt var til at blunde, sove, deiligt udhvile sig paa og det gjorde ogsaa Vaagekonen, hun sov, og det kunde hun, Alt var godt og velsignet her. Husets Skytsaand stod ved Sengens Hovedgjerde; hen over Barnet, ved Moderens Bryst, bredte sig, som et Net af funklende Stjerner, saa rige, hver var en Lykkens Perle. Livets gode Feer, alle havde de bragt deres Gave til den Nyfødte; her funklede Sundhed, Rigdom, Lykke, Kjærlighed, kort Alt, hvad Menneskene kunde ønske sig paa Jorden.
"Every gift has been brought and accepted," said the guardian spirit. "Alt er her bragt og givet!" sagde Skytsaanden.
"No," said a voice close by. It was the child's own guardian angel speaking. "One fairy has not brought her gift yet, but she will bring it sooner or later, though years may go by before she comes. The last of the pearls is missing." "Nei!" lød en Stemme tæt ved, det var Barnets gode Engel. "Een Fee har endnu ikke bragt sin Gave, men hun bringer den, bringer den engang, om endogsaa Aar gaae hen. Den sidste Perle mangler!"
"Missing? Nothing must be missing here! If it is true, then let us go to the mighty fairy and ask her for her gift." "Mangler! her tør Intet mangle og var det virkeligt saa, da lad os søge hende, den mægtige Fee, lad os gaae til hende!"
"Be patient, she will come. Her pearl is necessary for the necklace to be strung." "Hun kommer, hun kommer engang! hendes Perle maa til, for at Krandsen kan bindes sammen!"
"Where does she live? Where is her home? Tell it to me and I will go and fetch the pearl." "Hvor boer hun? Hvor er hendes Hjem! siig mig det, jeg gaaer og henter Perlen!"
"If you wish," said the child's guardian angel, "then I shall lead you to her. She has no permanent home but is forever traveling. She visits the king in his castle and the poor in their hovels. No house exists that she passes by without entering at least once. To all she brings her gift. This little swaddled child will meet her too. You think that time is long but that is no reason to waste it. Well and good, let us seek her." "Du vil det!" sagde Barnets gode Engel, "jeg fører Dig til hende, hvor hun endogsaa maa søges! hun har intet blivende Sted, hun kommer til Keiserens Slot og til den fattigste Bonde, intet Menneske gaaer hun sporløs forbi, dem Alle bringer hun sin Gave, den være en Verden eller et Legetøi! ogsaa dette Barn maa hun møde. Du tænker, Tiden er lige lang, men ikke lige nyttig, nu vel, vi gaae at hente Perlen, den sidste Perle i denne Rigdom!"
Hand in hand, the two spirits flew to seek the fairy in the place where she, for the moment, made her home. Og Haand i Haand svævede de hen til det Sted, som for denne Stund var Feens Hjem.
It was a big house with long corridors and empty rooms. Everything was strangely still and quiet, the windows were open, letting in the raw, damp air. Silently, the long white curtains moved in the breeze. Det var et stort Huus med mørke Gange, tomme Stuer, og forunderligt stille; en Række Vinduer stode aabne, saa at ret den raa Luft kunde trænge ind; de lange hvide, nedhængende Gardiner bevægede sig ved Lufttrækket.
In the middle of a large room stood a coffin and in it lay the body of a woman. She was neither young nor old but in that period of life which people sometimes call the best. Freshly plucked roses covered her body; among the flowers her folded hands could be seen. Her noble face, transfigured by death, looked expectantly up toward God. Midt paa Gulvet stod en aaben Liigkiste og i denne hvilede Liget af en Qvinde, endnu i sine bedste Aar; de deiligste friske Roser laae hen over hende, saa at kun de foldede, fine Hænder vare synlige og det i Døden forklarede, ædle Ansigt med Indvielsens høie, ædle Alvor i Gud.
By the coffin stood a man and a whole flock of children; the youngest of them the father carried in his arms. This was their leave-taking. The father bent down and kissed his wife's hand. Now that hand that had been so strong, so loving, was like the withered leaf. Tears fell from their eyes, but not a word was spoken, no sound broke that stillness, which contained a world of pain. Weeping, they left. Ved Kisten stode Mand og Børn, en heel Flok var det; den Mindste sad paa Faderens Arm, det sidste Farvel bragte de; og Manden kyssede hendes Haand, den, der nu var som et vissent Løv, og før med Kraft og Kjærlighed havde hygget om dem. Salte, tunge Taarer faldt i store Draaber paa Gulvet; men ikke et Ord blev sagt. Tausheden her rummede en Verden af Smerte. Og stille, hulkende gik de bort.
One candle burned in the room. Its flames wavered in the wind, was almost put out, and then shot up clearly and brightly again. Strangers came; they closed the coffin and hammered the lid down with nails. The sound of the hammering echoed through the corridors and rooms of the house and beat upon the bleeding hearts. Der stod et Lys, Flammen vred sig for Vinden og skjød op sin lange, røde Tande. Fremmede Folk traadte ind, de lagde Laaget over den Døde, de slog Sømmene fast, stærkt lød Hammerslagene gjennem Husets Stuer og Gange, de lød til Hjerterne, der blødte.
"Where have you led me?" asked the guardian spirit. "Here lives no fairy whose pearl would be one of life's most valuable gifts." "Hvorhen fører Du mig!" spurgte Skytsaanden, "her boer ingen Fee, hvis Perle hører med til Livets bedste Gaver!"
"In this holy hour, she lives here," said the child's guardian angel, and pointed to a corner of the room. There in the chair where the mother used to sit, surrounded by flowers and pictures, where she--the good fairy of her own household--used to smile to her children, husband, and friends, in that spot which once had been the center, the very heart of the household, now sat a stranger, a woman dressed in long black clothes. It was Sorrow; now she reigned, she had become their mother. A tear dropped from her eyes down into her lap and became a pearl; it sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow and the angel caught it. "Paa dette Sted boer hun, her i denne hellige Time," sagde Skytsengelen, og pegede hen i Krogen, og der, hvor i Livets Dage Moderen havde siddet mellem Blomster og Billeder, hvor hun, som Husets velsignende Fee, nikkede kjærligt til Mand, Børn og Venner, hvor hun, som Husets Solstraale, udbredte Glæde og var det Heles Sammenhold og Hjerte, der sad nu en fremmed Qvinde, iført lange, side Klæder, Sorgen var det, Herskerinden her, Moder nu i den Dødes Sted. Der trillede en brændende Taare ned paa hendes Skjød, den blev en Perle; den funklede med alle Regnbuens Farver, og Engelen greb den, og Perlen lyste, som en Stjerne med syvfarvet Glands.
"The seven-colored pearl of sorrow must be in the necklace too. It makes the other pearls shine stronger, more beautifully. In it is locked the glow of the rainbow, the arch that connects the earth with heaven. Everyone we love and who dies makes another friend in heaven for us to long for. In the dark nights here on earth, we look toward the stars, toward the consummation, the fulfillment. Look, contemplate the pearl of sorrow, for it contains the wings of Psyche, which shall carry us away from here." "Sorgens Perle, den sidste, som ikke kan savnes! ved den forhøies de andres Glands og Magt. Seer Du Skjæret her af Regnbuen, den, der forbinder Jorden med Himlen. For hver af vore Kjære, der døe fra os, have vi een Ven meer i Himlen at længes efter. I Jordens Nat see vi opad mod Stjernerne, ud mod Fuldendelsen! betragt Sorgens Perle, i den ligge Psyche-Vingerne, de bære os bort herfra!"

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