The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

The Sweethearts - Kjærestefolkene.

1844

The Sweethearts Kjærestefolkene.
A top and a ball were lying in a drawer among a lot of other toys. One day the top said to the ball, "Shouldn't we become engaged? After all, we are lying right next to each other in the drawer." But the ball, who was made of morocco leather, thought of herself as a very refined young lady and would not even answer a question like that. Toppen og Bolden laae i Skuffe sammen mellem andet Legetøi, og saa sagde Toppen til Bolden -. "Skulle vi ikke være Kjærestefolk, siden vi dog ligge i Skuffe sammen"; men Bolden, der var syet af Saffian, og bildte sig ligesaa meget ind, som en fiin Frøken, vilde ikke svare paa saadant noget.
The next day the little boy, whose toys they all were, painted the top red and yellow and hammered a brass nail in the middle of it. It looked marvelous when it spun. Næste Dag kom den lille Dreng, der eiede Legetøiet, han malede Toppen over med Rødt og Gult, og slog et Messing-Søm midt i den; det saae just prægtigt ud, naar Toppen svingede rundt.
"Look at me now!" called the top to the ball. "What do you say, wouldn't we make a fine pair? You can jump and I can dance! How happy we would be together." "See paa mig!" sagde den til Bolden. "Hvad siger De nu? skulde vi saa ikke være Kjærestefolk, vi passe saa godt sammen, De springer og jeg dandser! lykkeligere end vi to kunde Ingen blive!"
"That's what you think," replied the ball. "Are you aware that my mother and father were a pair of morocco slippers, and that I have a cork inside me?" "Saa, troer De det!" sagde Bolden, "De veed nok ikke, at min Fader og Moder have været Saffians-Tøfler, og at jeg har en Prop i Livet!"
"But I am of mahogany," boasted the top. "The mayor made me, himself, on a lathe he has in his cellar. It gave him great pleasure." "Ja, men jeg er af Mahognitræ!" sagde Toppen, "og Byfogden har selv dreiet mig, han har sin egen Dreierbænk, og det var ham en stor Fornøielse!"
"How do I know that what you're saying is true?" asked the ball. "Ja, kan jeg stole paa det!" sagde Bolden.
"May I never be whipped into a spin again if I am lying," answered the top. "Gid jeg aldrig faae Pidsk om jeg lyver!" svarede Toppen.
"You speak well for yourself," admitted the ball. "But I have to refuse because I am almost engaged to a swallow. Every time I jump up into the air, he puts his head out of the nest and asks, 'Will you? Will you? Even though I haven't said yes, I have thought it; and that's almost the same as being engaged. But I promise that I shall never forget you." "De taler meget godt for dem!" sagde Bolden, "men jeg kan dog ikke, jeg er saa godt som halv forlovet med en Svale! hver Gang jeg gaaer til Veirs, stikker den Hovedet ud af Reden og siger: "vil De?" og nu har jeg indvortes sagt ja, og det er saa godt som en halv Forlovelse! men jeg lover Dem, jeg skal aldrig glemme Dem!"
"A lot of difference that will make," growled the top. And that was the end of their conversation. "Ja, det skal stort hjælpe!" sagde Toppen, og saa talte de ikke til hinanden.
The next day the ball was taken out of the drawer, and the top watched as she was thrown so high up into the sky that she looked like a bird and finally all but disappeared. Every time she hit the ground she bounced up again quite high; and the top could not make up his mind whether she jumped up like that because she wanted to get another glimpse of the swallow, or just because she had cork inside her. The ninth time the ball went up into the air, it did not return. The boy searched for it everywhere but it was gone. Næste Dag blev Bolden taget frem; Toppen saae, hvor den foer høit op i Luften, ligesom en Fugl, man kunde tilsidst slet ikke Øine den; hver Gang kom den tilbage igjen, men gjorte altid et høit Spring, naar den rørte Jorden; og det kom enten af Længsel, eller fordi den havde en Prop i Livet. Den niende Gang blev Bolden borte og kom ikke mere igjen; og Drengen søgte og søgte, men borte var den.
"I know what's happened to her," said the top, "she's up in the swallow's nest and is getting married to the swallow." "Jeg veed nok, hvor den er!" sukkede Toppen, "den er i Svalereden og er gift med Svalen!"
The more the top thought about the ball, the more in love with her he was. And because he couldn't have her, he wanted her all the more. The strangest part of it was that she had preferred another. The top spun and whirled; round and round he went; and all the time he was thinking of the ball. And in his imagination she grew prettier and prettier. Years passed and finally she became an old love. Jo mere Toppen tænkte derpaa, desmere indtaget blev han i Bolden; just fordi han ikke kunde faae hende, derfor tog Kjærligheden til; at hun havde taget en Anden, det var det aparte ved det; og Toppen dandsede rundt og snurrede, men altid tænkte den paa Bolden, der i Tankerne blev kjønnere og kjønnere. Saaledes gik mange Aar - - og saa var det en gammel Kjærlighed.
The top was not young any more; but then one day he was painted all over with gold paint. Now he was a golden top; and he spun and leaped up into the air. . . . Oh, that was something! But then it sprang too high and was gone! Og Toppen var ikke ung mere men saa blev den en Dag heel og holden forgyldt; aldrig havde den seet saa deilig ud; den var nu en Guldtop og sprang, saa det snurrede efter. Jo, det var noget! men med et sprang den for høit og, - borte var den!
Everyone looked for it everywhere, even in the cellar, but it was not to be found. Man søgte og søgte, selv nede i Kjælderen, den var dog ikke at finde.
Where was it? - - Hvor var den?
It had jumped into the garbage bin. There all kinds of things were lying: gravel, a cabbage stalk, dirt, dust, and a lot of leaves that had fallen down from the gutter under the roof. Den var sprunget i Skarnfjerdingen, hvor der laae alle Slags, Kaalstokke, Feieskarn og Gruus, der var faldet ned fra Tagrenden.
"This is a fine place to be!" thought the top. "I wonder how long my gilding will last here. What a lot of riffraff!" The top glanced at the cabbage stalk and then at a funny round thing that looked like a rotten apple. But it wasn't an apple; it was the old ball who had lain for years in the gutter, where the water had oozed through it. "Nu ligger jeg rigtignok godt! her kan snart Forgyldningen gaae af mig! og hvad det er for nogle Prakkere jeg er kommet imellem!" og saa skjævede den til en lang Kaalstok, der var pillet altfor nær, og til en underlig rund Ting, der saae ud som et gammelt Æble; - men det var intet Æble, det var en gammel Bold, der i mange Aar havde ligget oppe i Tagrenden, og som Vandet havde sivet igjennem.
"Thank God! At last someone of one's own kind has come, someone I need not be ashamed to talk to," said the ball, and looked at the golden top. "I was made from morocco leather by the hand of a fine young lady, and have a cork inside me. Although, I admit, it's hard to see it now. I was just about to marry a swallow when I fell into the gutter under the roof. There I have lain and oozed for five years; that's a long time for a young girl." "Gud skee Lov, der dog kommer een af Ens Lige, som man kan tale med!" sagde Bolden og betragtede den forgyldte Top. "Jeg er egentlig af Saffian, syet af Jomfru-Hænder, og har en Prop i Livet, men det skulde Ingen see paa mig! jeg var lige ved at holde Bryllup med en Svale, men saa faldt jeg i Tagrenden, og der har jeg ligget i fem Aar og sivet! Det er en lang Tid, kan De troe, for en Jomfru!"
The top didn't say anything. He was thinking of his old sweetheart; and the more he heard, the more certain he was that it was she. Men Toppen sagde ikke noget, han tænkte paa sin gamle Kjæreste, og jo mere han hørte, desto klarere blev det ham, at det var hende.
At that moment a maid came to throw something away. "Hurrah! There's the golden top!" she cried. Da kom Tjenestepigen og vilde vende Fjerdingen: "heisa, der er Guldtoppen!" sagde hun.
The golden top was brought back to the living room, where he was honored and respected. There no one ever talked about the ball, and the top never mentioned his old love again. You get over it when your beloved has lain in a gutter and oozed for five years. You never recognize her when you meet her in the garbage bin. Og Toppen kom igjen i Stuen til stor Agt og Ære, men Bolden hørte man intet om, og Toppen snakkede aldrig meer om sin gamle Kjærlighed; den gaaer over, naar Kjæresten har ligget fem Aar i en Vandrende og sivet, ja man kjender hende aldrig igjen, naar man møder hende i Skarnfjerdingen.

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