The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

Under the Willow Tree - Under Piletræet.

1853

The countryside around Køge is very barren. True, the town is situated on the coast, and the seaside is always lovely, but it can be much prettier than it is there. The city is surrounded by flat fields and it is far to the nearest forest. And yet, if it is the place that you call home, you will find something beautiful about it: something that you will long for when, later on in life, you see places that are truly beautiful. On the outskirts of Køge there is a little stream that ebbs out in the sands of a beach, and along its banks it is quite lovely, especially in summer. Knud and Johanna thought this place was as beautiful as any place could be. They were two children who lived next door to each other and whose gardens went right down to the stream. Both of the families were very poor, but there was an elderberry tree in one of the gardens and a willow tree in the other. The children had only to crawl under the hedge to be together. Sometimes they played under the elderberry tree but more often under the willow, even though this grew on the bank of the stream. Our Lord looks after all small creatures; otherwise, very few of them would survive. Besides, the children were careful, especially the boy, who was so frightened of the water that even in summer he never waded in the sea as all the other children did. He had had to bear a lot of teasing about it, until little Johanna had a dream that she was out sailing in a boat, on Køge Bay, and Knud walked out to meet her--first the water went up to his throat and then over his head, but he walked on. From then on, whenever the children teased him, he would refer to Johanna's dream as proof of his courage. He was very proud of it; but he went no nearer the water. Egnen er meget nøgen nede ved Kjøge; Byen ligger jo rigtignok ved Stranden, og det er altid kjønt, men der kunde dog være kjønnere, end der er: rundt om flad Mark, og langt er der til Skoven; men naar man er rigtig hjemme et Sted, saa finder man dog Noget kjønt, noget, man paa det deiligste Sted i Ver den siden kan henges efter! Og det maae vi ogsaa sige, at i Ud kanten af Kjøge, hvor et Par smaa fattige Haver strække sig ned til den lille Aa, som løber ud i Stranden, kunde der være ganske yndigt ved Sommertid, og det fandt især de to smaa Nabobørn, Knud og Johanne, som legede her og krøb under Stikkelsbær buskene ind til hinanden. I den ene Have stod en Hyld, i den anden et gammelt Piletræ, og under det især legede de Børn saa gjerne, og dertil havde de Lov, skjøndt Træet stod lige tæt ved Aaen, hvor de let kunde falde i Vandet, men vor Herre har Øie paa de Smaa, ellers saae det slemt ud; de vare ogsaa meget forsigtige, ja, Drengen var en saadan Cujon for Vandet, at det var ikke mueligt ved Sommertid at faae ham ud i Stranden, hvor dog de andre Børn saa gjerne vilde gaae at pjadske; han blev skammet ud for det, og det maatte han taale; men saa drømte Naboens lille Johanne, at hun seilede i en Baad paa Kjøgebugt og Knud gik lige ud til hende, Vandet naaede ham først til Halsen og saa gik det ham heeelt over Hovedet; og fra det Øieblik af, at Knud hørte den Drøm, taalte han ikke læn ger, at man kaldte ham en Cujon for Vandet, men henviste bare til Johannes Drøm; den var hans Stolthed; men i Vandet gik han ikke.
The parents of the children often visited each other, and the children played together all the time, either in the gardens or out in the road. Along the sides of the road many willow trees grew, but they were stunted, for they had not been planted there to be looked at but for the sake of their branches, from which fences and baskets could be woven. The willow tree in the garden was allowed to grow as it wanted to, and under its widespread branches the children passed many happy hours. De fattige Forældre kom jævnlig sammen, og Knud og Johanne legede i Haverne og paa Landeveien, som langs med Grøfterne havde en heel Række Piletræer, og de vare ikke kjønne, de vare saa forhuggede i Kronen, men de stode jo heller ikke til Stads, men for at gjøre Nytte; deiligere var den gamle Piil i Haven, og under den sad de mangen god Gang, som man siger.
On market day the great square in the center of Køge became a little city of tents. Here silk ribbons, boots, and many other kinds of wares were sold. There were always big crowds of people and usually there was rain. Every peasant for twenty miles around came to Køge. The smell of the damp woolen clothing blended with the delicious odor of gingerbread. There was a booth where gingerbread alone was sold, and the best part of it was that the man who owned it stayed with Knud's parents whenever he was in town, so the boy was always given a piece of gingerbread which he shared with Johanna. There was another wonderful thing about the gingerbread baker, he knew how to tell stories. He could make them up about almost everything, even his own gingerbread figures. One evening he told a tale about a gingerbread man and a gingerbread woman that made such a deep impression on the two children that they never forgot it; so maybe it is a good idea that we hear it too, especially since it is short. Inde i Kjøge er der et stort Torv, og ved Markedstid stod der hele Gader af Telte med Silkebaand, Støvler og alt mueligt; der var en Trængsel og sædvanligviis Regnveir, og da mærkede man Dunsten af Bondekofter, men ogsaa den deiligste Lugt af Honningkager, der var en heel Bod fuld, og hvad der var det prægtigste: Manden, som solgte dem, indlogerede sig altid i Markedstiden hos den lille Knuds Forældre, og saa vankede der naturligviis en lille Honningkage, hvoraf Johanne ogsaa fik sit Stykke, men hvad der næsten var endnu meget mere, Honningkagehandleren vidste at fortælle Historier, og det næsten om enhver Ting, selv om sine Honningkager; ja om disse fortalte han en Aften en Historie, som gjorde et saa dybt Indtryk paa de to Børn, at de aldrig siden glemte den, og saa er det vel bedst, vi ogsaa høre den, især da den er kort.
"Once there lay on the counter of my booth two gingerbread figures. One of them was a man with a hat on his head, the other a girl who had no hat but did have a dab of gold for hair. Their faces were on the front of their heads just as human beings' faces are; and they, too, shouldn't be judged by how they look from behind. The man had a bitter almond on the left side of his chest and that was his heart. The gingerbread girl was just plain gingerbread. They were displayed on the counter as samples. And as the days went by they fell in love, but neither of them spoke of their love, and if you don't do that, nothing will ever come of it. "Der laae paa Disken to Honningkager," sagde han, "den ene havde Skikkelse af et Mandfolk med Hat, den anden som en Jomfru uden Hat, men med en Klat Bog-Guld paa Hovedet; de havde Ansigt paa den Side, som vendte opad, og der skulde man see dem og ikke paa Vrangen, der skal man aldrig see noget Menneske. Mandfolket havde en Bittermandel til Venstre, det var hans Hjerte, Jomfruen var derimod bare Honningkage. De laae som Prøver paa Disken, de laae længe og saa elskede de hinanden, men den Ene sagde det ikke til den Anden, og det maa man, naar det skal blive til Noget.
'He is a man, it is only proper that he should speak first,' thought the gingerbread girl, though she was dying to know whether her love was returned. "Han er et Mandfolk, han maa sige det første Ord," tænkte hun, men vilde dog være fornøiet med at vide, at hendes Kjærlighed blev gjengjældt.
His thoughts were more ferocious: men's usually are. He dreamed that he was an urchin who had fourpence, so he could buy the little gingerbread girl and eat her up. Han var nu mere glubende i sine Tanker, og det er altid Mandfolkene; han drømte, han var en levende Gadedreng og eiede fire Skilling, og saa kjøbte han Jomfruen og aad hende.
For weeks they lay on the counter and became more and more dried out. The gingerbread girl's ideas became more refined, more womanly. 'It is enough to have lain on the same counter with him,' she thought, and then she broke in two at the waist. Og de laae Dage og Uger paa Disken og blev tørre, og hendes Tanker bleve finere og mere qvindelige: "det er mig nok, at jeg har ligget paa Disk med ham!" tænkte hun, og saa knak hun i Livet.
'If she had known of my love, she might have lasted longer,' thought the gingerbread man." "Havde hun vidst min Kjærlighed, saa havde hun nok holdt noget længer!" tænkte han.
"That was their story and here they are, both of them," said the baker. "Theirs was an unhappy fate and proves that silent love leads to unhappiness. . . . Now look at them!" And he gave the gingerbread man to Johanna and the two pieces of the gingerbread girl to Knud, but the children were so touched by the story that they couldn't eat the cakes. Og det er Historien og her er de begge to"! sagde Kagehandleren. "De ere mærkelige ved deres Levnetsløb og den stumme Kjærlighed, der aldrig fører til Noget. See der har I dem!" og saa gav han Johanne Mandfolket, som var heel, og Knud fik den knækkede Jomfrue; men de vare saa betagne af Historien, at de ikke nænte at spise Kjærestefolkene.
The next day the children went to the churchyard. Its walls were so overgrown with ivy that they looked as if the red bricks were covered by a green carpet. Here among the greenery Knud and Johanna leaned the gingerbread man and the gingerbread woman up against the wall and told the other children the story of silent love and what a waste of time it was--the love, that is, not the story, for the children found that very amusing. They were all so absorbed in the tale that they didn't notice that a bigger boy had stolen one of the gingerbread figures. It was the maiden and out of meanness he ate her all up. The children wept when they realized what had happened; and then they ate the gingerbread man--probably so that the poor fellow would not suffer from being alone in the world. They never forgot the story. Næste Dag gik de med dem ind paa Kjøge Kirkegaard, hvor Kirkemuren er overgroet med det deiligste Vedbende-Grønt, der Vinter og Sommer hænger som et rigt Tæppe over Muren; og de stillede Honningkagerne op i det Grønne i Solskinnet og fortalte for en Flok andre Børn Historien om den stumme Kjærlighed, som ikke duede til Noget, det vil sige Kjærligheden, for Historien var yndig, det fandt de Allesammen, og da de saae hen paa Honning-Parret, ja, saa var der en stor Dreng, der - og det var af Ondskab - havde spiist den knækkede Jomfrue, Børnene græd derover, og siden, - og det var vistnok for at det stakkels Mandfolk ikke skulde være ene i Verden, - saa spiste de ham med, men aldrig glemte de Historien.
The two children were always together either under the elderberry tree or under the willow. Johanna had a voice that was as clear as a silver bell, and she would sing the loveliest songs. Knud had no voice at all, but he knew the words of all the songs by heart--and that is always something. The people of Køge, even the rich grocer's Wife, would stop when they passed the gardens, to listen to Johanna sing. "That little brat has a beautiful voice," they would say. Altid var de Børn sammen ved Hyldebusken og under Piletræet, og den lille Pige sang med sølvklokkeklar Stemme de yndigste Sange; i Knud var der ikke Tone skabt, men han kunde Ordene og det er altid noget. - Folk i Kjøge, selv IsenkræmmerMadammen, stod stille og hørte paa Johanne. "Det er en sød Røst den lille Unge har!" sagde hun.
Those were beautiful, happy days but they did not last. Little Johanna's mother died and her father decided to move to Copenhagen. The neighbors had tears in their eyes when they parted, and the two children wept aloud. The grown-ups promised to write to each other at least once a year. Shortly afterward Knud was apprenticed to a shoemaker--such a big boy could not spend all his time playing. In the autumn he was confirmed in the church in Køge. Det var velsignede Dage, men de vare ikke ved altid. Naboerne skiltes ad; den lille Piges Moder var død, Faderen skulde giftes inde i Kjøbenhavn og der kunde han faae en Levevei; han skulde være Bud et Sted, det skulde være et meget indbringende Embede. Og Naboerne skiltes ad med Taarer, og Børnene især græd; men de Gamle lovede at skrive hinanden til i det mindste eengang om Aaret. Og Knud kom i Skomagerlære, de kunde jo ikke lade den lange Dreng længer gaae og drive. Og saa blev han confirmeret!
How Knud would have liked to go to Copenhagen on that solemn day, to see Johanna. He had never been in the capital, though the distance was not more than twenty miles. On a clear day you can see the towers of Copenhagen across the bay; and the morning he was confirmed, Knud saw the golden cross on the top of the steeple of the Church of Our Lady. 0 hvor gjerne vilde han paa den Høitidsdag have kommet til Kjøbenhavn og seet lille Johanne, men han kom ikke og aldrig havde han været der, skjøndt den kun ligger fem Miil fra Kjøge; men Taarnene havde Knud seet over Bugten i klart Veir, og paa Confirmationsdagen saae han tydeligt det gyldne Kors skinne paa Frue Kirke.
How often he thought of Johanna! But did she remember him? At Christmas a letter arrived from Johanna's father. All had turned out well for him and he had married again; but Johanna had had even greater good luck. Her lovely voice had won her a position in the theater. She sang in the kind of play in which there was music and she already earned quite a bit of money. That was why she was sending her "dear neighbors in Køge a silver mark, to buy wine for Christmas Eve and to toast my health--" that she had written herself; and she added: "My very best regards to Knud!" Ak hvor tænkte han paa Johanne! mon hun huskede ham? Jo! -Ved Juletid kom der Brev fra hendes Fader til Knuds Forældre, det gik meget godt i Kjøbenhavn, og en stor Lykke vilde blive tildeelt Johanne ved hendes kjønne Stemme; hun var ansat ved Comedien, den de sang i; og lidt Penge fik hun allerede derfor og af disse sendte hun de kjære Naboefolk i Kjøge en heel Rigsdaler til Fornøielse Juleaften; de skulde drikke hendes Skaal, og det havde hun selv med egen Haand tilføiet i en Efterskrift, og i den stod: "venlig Hilsen til Knud!"
They all wept. Everything was so wonderful and their tears came from happiness. Not a day passed without Knud thinking of Johanna, now that he could read in her letter that she thought of him. The nearer the time came for his apprenticeship to end, the more certain he was that he loved Johanna and that one day she would become his wife. He would think of Johanna; a smile would play on his lips and he would pull the leather even tighter to the last. Once he stuck the big needle right into his thumb; but it did not matter, he was so happy in his dreams. He was not going to be silent as the two gingerbread figures had been; from that story he had learned a lot. De græd Allesammen, og det var jo dog saa fornøieligt det Hele, men det var af Glæde de græd. Hver Dag havde Johanne været i hans Tanker, og nu saae han, at hun ogsaa tænkte paa ham, og alt, som det nærmede sig, at han skulde blive Svend, des klarere stod det for ham, at han holdt saa meget af Johanne og at hun skulde blive hans lille Kone, og saa spillede der ham et Smiil om Munden og han trak endnu raskere i Rispen, mens Benet spændte mod Spanderemmen; han stak Sylen heelt ind i den ene Finger, men det gjorde ikke Noget. Han skulde rigtignok ikke være stum, som de to Honningkager, den Historie var ham meget til Lærdom.
Finally his apprenticeship was over and he packed his knapsack. He was going to Copenhagen for the first time in his life. He had already got a position there with a shoemaker. How surprised Johanna would be when she saw him. She was now seventeen and he was nineteen. Og saa blev han Svend og Randselen snørt. Til Kjøbenhavn skulde han da endelig for første Gang i sit Liv og han havde allerede der en Mester. Naa, hvor Johanne vilde blive overrasket og glad. Hun var nu sytten Aar og han var nitten.
He had thought of buying a gold ring for her in Køge but had decided that he could probably buy a much more beautiful one in Copenhagen. He said good-by to his parents, took his knapsack on his back, and set out. It was a rainy and windy autumn day; he was wet to the skin by the time he had walked the twenty miles to the big city and found the home of the shoemaker he was to work for. Han vilde allerede kjøbe i Kjøge en Guldring til hende, men saa betænkte han, at man vist fik dem langt kjønnere i Kjøbenhavn; og saa blev der taget Afsked med de Gamle, og rask i Efteraarstiden gik han paa sin Fod i Regn og Rusk; Bladene faldt af Træerne; vaad til Skindet kom han til det store Kjøbenhavn og til sin nye Mester.
The very first Sunday he went to the address that he had copied from Johanna's father's letter. He had put on his new suit and was wearing the hat he had bought in Køge. He looked well in it; it was his first hat, until then he had always worn a cap. He found the house. They lived on the top floor, and it almost made him dizzy to walk up so many flights of stairs. "How strangely people live in the huge lonesome city," he thought, "all on top of each other." Førstkommende Søndag vilde han aflægge Besøget hos Johannes Fader. De nye Svende-Klæder kom paa, og den nye Hat fra Kjøge, den klædte Knud saa godt, før havde han altid kun gaaet med Kaskjet. - Og han fandt Huset, som han søgte, og kom de mange Trapper op; det var ganske til at blive svindel over, hvorledes Menneskene vare stillede ovenpaa hinanden her i den vildsomme By.
Johanna's father greeted him kindly; his new wife, whom Knud had not met before, shook his hand and offered him coffee. Their apartment was neat and well furnished. Ganske velhavende saae der ud inde i Stuen, og venligt tog Johannes Fader imod ham; for Madammen var han jo en fremmed En, men hun gav ham Haanden og Caffe.
"Johanna will be so pleased to see you," said the father. "You have grown up to be a nice-looking young man. I will call her. She is a girl that a father can be proud of; she has gone far. And with God's help she will go even further. She has her own room and she pays me rent." Her father knocked on her door as if he were a stranger to his own daughter. They stepped inside. Oh, what a beautiful room she had! Knud felt certain that there was not a room so elegant in all of Køge. The queen could not have a better one. The floor was covered by a rug, and the curtains were so long that they almost reached the floor. There was a little upholstered chair covered with velvet, several pictures on the walls, and a mirror as big as a door. Knud noticed it all and yet he saw only Johanna! She looked quite different from what he had expected; she was much more beautiful than he had imagined she would be. There was not a girl in Køge as lovely as she, or as refined. For a moment she stared at him strangely as if she didn't know him, but then she came running over to him. Knud thought that she was going to kiss him. But she didn't, though she was happy to see him. She had tears in her eyes when she looked at the friend from her childhood. And she asked so many questions: about Knud's parents and everyone else in Køge, including the elderberry tree and the willow tree. She called them "mother elderberry" and "father willow," and talked about them as if they were human beings. And why shouldn't she? After all, they were as human as the two gingerbread cakes. Of those she talked too; about their silent love and how they lay on the counter beside each other, not daring to speak of it. She laughed so warmly, so kindly. "No, she hasn't changed," thought Knud. His cheeks blushed and his heart beat so strangely. Knud also sensed that it was for her sake that he was invited to stay all evening. They had tea. Later she read aloud from a book, and Knud felt that every word she read was about him and his love for her. When she sang a little song for them, the song became more than a song, it was a little story that came from her heart. The tears ran down his cheeks; he could not stop them and to speak was impossible. He thought that he had behaved very stupidly, but when he left she shook his hand warmly and said: "You have a kind heart, Knud. Always stay as you are." "Det vil fornøie Johanne at see dig!" sagde Faderen, "Du er jo blevet et meget net Menneske! - ja nu skal du see hende! ja det er en Pige, jeg har Glæde af og faaer mere, med Guds Bistand! hun har sit eget Kammer og det betaler hun os for!" og Faderen selv bankede ganske høfligt paa hendes Dør, ligesom om han var en fremmed Mand, og saa traadte de ind - nei, hvor der var nydeligt! der var bestemt ikke saadant et Kammer til i hele Kjøge, Dronningen kunde ikke have det yndigere! Der var Gulvtæppe, der var Gardiner lige ned til Jorden, en virkelig Fløiels-Stol og rundtom Blomster og Skilderier og et Speil, som man var færdig ved at løbe lige ind i, det var ligesaa stort som en Dør. Knud saae det altsammen paa eengang og saae dog kun Johanne, hun var en voxen Pige; ganske anderledes end Knud havde tænkt sig hende, men meget deiligere! der var ikke en Jomfru i Kjøge, som hun, og hvor var hun fiin! Men hvor saae hun underlig fremmed paa Knud, dog kun et Øieblik, saa fløi hun hen imod ham, ligesom om hun vilde kysse ham; hun gjorde det ikke, men hun var lige ved det. Jo, hun var rigtignok glad ved at see sin Barndoms Ven! stod ikke Taarerne hende i Øinene, og saa havde hun saa meget at spørge og tale om, lige fra Knuds Forældre til Hyldetræet og Piletræet, og dem kaldte hun Hyldemoer og Pilefaer, ligesom om de ogsaa vare Mennesker, dog det kunne de da ligesaa godt gjælde for, som Honningkagerne kunde det; om dem talte hun ogsaa, om deres stumme Kjærlighed, hvorledes de laae paa Disken og gik istykker, og saa loe hun saa hjerteligt - men Blodet brændte Knud i Kinderne og hans Hjerte slog stærkere end ellers! - nei, hun var slet ikke blevet storagtig! - Hun var ogsaa Skyld i, mærkede han nok, at hendes Forældre bad ham blive der hele Aftenen, og hun skjænkede Theen og hun selv bød ham en Kop og siden tog hun en Bog og læste høit for dem, og det var for Knud ligesom om netop det, hun læste, var om hans Kjærlighed, det passede saa ganske paa alle hans Tanker; og saa sang hun en simpel Vise, men den blev ved hende til en heel Historie, det var som om hendes eget Hjerte strømmede over deraf. Jo, hun holdt bestemt af Knud. Taarerne løb ham ned over Kinderne, han kunde ikke gjøre derfor, og han kunde ikke sige et eneste Ord, han syntes selv, at han var meget dum og dog trykkede hun ham i Haanden og sagde: "Du har et godt Hjerte Knud! bliv altid, som Du er!"
After such a marvelous experience it was difficult to sleep, and Knud did not close his eyes all night. When he said good-by, Johanna's father had remarked, "Now don't let the whole winter pass before you visit us again." Knud thought that this was as good as an invitation and decided to go back on the following Sunday. In the meantime, every day when he was finished working for his master--and this could be quite late, for they also worked by lamplight--he would walk through the street on which Johanna lived. Beneath her window he would stop and look up. Once he saw her shadow against the curtains and that was a very pleasant evening. The shoemaker's wife complained that he was always running about at night, but his master laughed and said, "Knud is a young man." Det var en mageløs Aften, den var slet ikke til at sove paa, og Knud sov heller ikke. Ved Afskeden havde Johannes Fader sagt: "Ja, nu glemmer Du os vel ikke ganske! Lad os see, at du ikke lader hele Vinteren gaae hen, før du seer til os igjen!" - og saa kunde han jo godt komme paa Søndag! og det vilde han. Men hver Aften, naar Arbeidet var endt, og de arbeidede ved Lys, gik Knud ud i Byen; han gik hen gjennem Gaden, hvor Johanne boede, saae op til hendes Vindue, der var næsten altid Lys, og een Aften saae han ganske tydeligt Skyggen af hendes Ansigt paa Gardinet; det var en deilig Aften! Mesters Madam syntes ikke om, at han altid om Aftenen skulde paa Farten, som hun kaldte det, og hun rystede paa Hovedet, men Mester loe: "det er et ungt Menneske!" sagde han.
"On Sunday I will see her again," thought Knud. "Then I will tell her how she has always been in my thoughts. I will ask her to be my little wife! True, I am only a poor shoemaker, but I will work hard and one day I shall have my own shop. Yes, that is what I will say. Love must have a voice, the silent kind is of no use; that I learned from the gingerbread cakes." "Paa Søndag sees vi, og jeg siger hende det, hvordan hun er i mine Tanker, og at hun maa blive min lille Kone! jeg er rigtignok kun en fattig Skomagersvend, men jeg kan blive Mester, i det mindste Fri-Mester, jeg skal arbeide og stræbe -! ja, jeg siger hende det, der kommer ikke noget ud af den stumme Kjærlighed, det har jeg lært af Honningkagerne!"
Sunday came and Knud along with it; but unfortunately Johanna and her family were all going out that day. Johanna took his hand in a most friendly way and asked him if he had ever been to the theater. "I will send you a ticket," she said. "Next Wednesday I will be singing. My father knows where your master lives." Og Søndagen kom og Knud kom, men hvor uheldigt! de skulde alle ud, de maatte sige ham det. Johanne trykkede hans Haand og spurgte: "har Du været henne paa Comedien ? Der maa Du engang! jeg synger paa Onsdag, og har Du da Tid, saa vil jeg sende Dig en Billet; min Fader veed, hvor din Mester boer!"
That certainly was thoughtful of her. At noon on Wednesday an envelope with a ticket had arrived for him, but there was no note or letter with it. In the evening Knud went for the first time in his life to the theater; and what did he see? He saw Johanna, so beautiful, so lovely. In the play she got married to a stranger; but then, it was only a play, not real life, or Johanna would not have sent him a ticket to come and see it. Knud knew that well enough, so he didn't mind. Everybody clapped and shouted, and so did Knud. He screamed, "Hurrah," as loud as he could. Hvor det var kjærligt af hende! og Onsdag Middag kom der ogsaa et forseglet Papir uden Ord, men Billetten laae deri, og om Aftenen gik Knud første Gang i sit Liv i Theatret og hvad saae han - ja han saae Johanne, saa deilig, saa yndig; hun blev rigtignok gift med en fremmed Person, men det var Comedie, Noget de forestillede, det vidste Knud, ellers havde hun heller ikke nænt at sende ham Billet til at see derpaa; og alle Folk klappede og raabte høit, og Knud raabte Hurra!
Even the king, who attended the performance, smiled most kindly down at Johanna; one could see he was pleased. Knud felt himself terribly small among such splendid company, but he loved his Johanna ever so much and felt sure that she cared for him too. A man must say the first words; that was what the little gingerbread girl had thought, and that story Knud had not forgotten. Selv Kongen smilte ned til Johanne, ligesom om han ogsaa var glad over hende. Gud, hvor Knud følte sig lille bitte, men han elskede hende saa inderligt og hun holdt jo ogsaa af ham, og Mandfolket maa sige det første Ord, saadan tænkte jo Honningkage-Jomfruen; i den Historie var der Meget lagt.
Next Sunday Knud set off to visit Johanna. He felt as solemn as if he were going to church to receive the sacraments. Johanna was home alone, nothing could have been luckier. Saa snart det blev Søndag gik Knud derhen; hans Tanker vare stemte, ligesom til Altargang. Johanne var alene og tog imod ham, det kunde ikke være heldigere.
"I am glad you have come," she said. "I nearly sent Father off to fetch you, but I felt sure that you would come. Next Friday I will be leaving Copenhagen. I am going to France. I must, for only there can I learn to be a great singer." "Det er godt Du kommer!" sagde hun, "nær havde jeg sendt Fader til Dig, men saa havde jeg en Fornemmelse af, at Du nok kom iaften; for jeg maa sige Dig, at jeg reiser paa Fredag til Frankrige, det maa jeg, at der kan blive noget rigtigt dygtigt af mig!"
Knud felt as though the whole room were turning around him and that, within him, his heart were breaking, but he did not cry. Even though no tears could be seen in his eyes, it was obvious that he was very sad. Johanna saw it right away, and she almost cried. "Oh, you poor, faithful, honest soul!" she exclaimed, and her words loosened Knud's tongue. He told her how much he loved her and how much he wanted her to be his wife. Johanna, who had been holding his hand in hers, let go of it and turned as pale as death. Then she said, seriously, almost mournfully, "Don't make yourself and me unhappy, Knud. I will always be your good sister whom you can trust. But I can never be more." She stroked his moist forehead with her soft hands. "God gives us strength when we ask it of Him." Og det var for Knud, som om Stuen dreiede rundt, som om hans Hjerte vilde gaae itu, men der kom ikke Taarer i hans Øine, dog var det synligt nok, hvor bedrøvet han blev; Johanne saae det og hun var lige ved at græde, "Du ærlige, trofaste Sjæl!" sagde hun - og saa var Knuds Tunge løst, og han sagde hende, hvor inderligt han holdt af hende og at hun maatte blive hans lille Kone; og i det han sagde det, saae han, at Johanne blev liigbleg, hun slap hans Haand og sagde alvorlig og bedrøvet: "Gjør ikke Dig selv og mig ulykkelig, Knud! jeg bliver Dig altid en god Søster, som Du kan stole paa -! men heller ikke mere!" og hun strøg sin bløde Haand hen over hans hede Pande. "Gud giver os Styrke til Meget, naar man kun selv vil!"
At that moment her stepmother came into the room. Da traadte i det samme hendes Stedmoder ind.
"Knud is beside himself because I am leaving," said Johanna to her stepmother, and then patted him on the back. "Now be a man," she said smilingly, as if they had only been talking about her journey. "Child," she added, "you will have to be kind and sensible as you were when we were children and sat under the willow tree." "Knud er reent ude af det fordi jeg reiser!" sagde hun; "vær dog et Mandfolk!" og saa klappede hun ham paa Skulderen, det var ligesom de kun havde talt om Reisen og ikke om andet. "Barn!" sagde hun. "Og nu skal Du være god og fornuftig, som under Piletræet, da vi begge vare Børn!"
Knud's world broke into pieces and one piece was lost forever. He felt that his thoughts were like loose threads that the wind could play with. He stayed even though he was not sure whether he had been invited to. But Johanna's father and his wife treated him kindly, and Johanna poured the tea as she had the last time he had been there. She sang, too, but her voice did not sound as sweet; yet it was beautiful enough to break one's heart. When they parted, Knud did not offer her his hand but she took it anyway. "Will you not give your sister your hand when you say good-by? My dear old playmate!" She smiled while tears ran down her cheeks. "Sister," she repeated. That word brought no comfort to Knud; thus they parted. Og det var for Knud, som om der var gaaet et Stykke af Verden, hans Tanke var som en løs Traad, villieløs for Vinden. Han blev, han vidste ikke, om de havde bedt ham derom, men venlige og gode vare de, og Johanne gav ham Theevand, og hun sang, det var ikke den gamle Klang, og dog saa mageløst deiligt, det var til at slaae Hjertet i Stykker ved, og saa skiltes de; Knud rakte hende ikke Haanden, men hun tog hans og sagde: "Du giver dog din Søster Haanden til Afsked, min gamle Legebroder!" og hun smilte med Taarer, de løb hende ned over Kinderne, og hun gjentog: "Broder." Jo, det skulde stort hjælpe! - Det var Afskeden.
She sailed to France. Knud stayed in Copenhagen and walked its muddy streets. The young shoemakers asked him what he was brooding about and invited him to come along with them. "To amuse yourself is almost a duty when you are young," one of them explained. Hun seilede til Frankrige, Knud gik paa de kjøbenhavnske sølede Gader. - De andre Svende fra Værkstedet spurgte ham om, hvad han saadan gik og grubliserede over; han skulde gaae paa Fornøielse med dem, han var jo et ungt Blod.
He went with them to a dance. There were many pretty girls, but none as lovely as Johanna. In the midst of all the gaiety, where he had expected to forget her, he remembered her most clearly. "God gives us strength when we ask it of Him," she had said. Knud folded his hands as if he were going to kneel down and pray right there, with the dancing couples all about him, and the violins playing. He was shocked! What had he done? How could he have taken Johanna with him to such a place? For she was with him; didn't he carry her in his heart? He rushed out into the street and did not stop running till he stood once more before the house where she had lived. The house was dark; everything was dark and lonesome. The world went its way and Knud went his. Og de gik sammen ind paa en Dandsebod; og der vare mange smukke Piger, men rigtignok ingen, som Johanne, og der hvor han troede at glemme hende, der stod hun just lyslevende i hans Tanker: "Gud giver Styrke til Meget, naar man kun selv vil!" havde hun sagt; og der kom en Andagt i hans Sind, han foldede sine Hænder - og Violinerne spillede og Jomfruerne dandsede rundtom; han blev ganske forskrækket, han syntes, han var et Sted, hvor han ikke kunde føre Johanne med, og hun var med ham i hans Hjerte, - og saa gik han udenfor, han løb gjennem Gaderne, gik forbi Huset hvor hun havde boet, der var mørkt, overalt var der mørkt, tomt og eensomt; Verden gik sin Gang og Knud sin.
Winter came and the Sound froze; it was a real ice winter and all of nature seemed dead and buried. Og det blev Vinter og Vandene frøs til, det var ligesom om Alt indrettede sig til Begravelse.
Finally spring came. The ice thawed and ships from foreign countries came to the harbor of Copenhagen once again. Knud longed to go away, far away, out into the wide world, but not to France. Men da Foraaret kom og det første Dampskib gik, da fik han saadan Længsel efter at komme bort, langt ud i den vide Verden, men ikke for nær ved Frankrige.
He packed his knapsack and set out. He wandered along the roads of Germany without purpose or peace. He walked from one city to the next, too restless to remain in any one of them. Only when he reached Nuremberg, far to the south, did his feet begin to drag, so that he felt that he had the power to make himself stay put. Og saa snørede han sin Randsel og vandrede langt ind i Tydskland, fra By til By, uden Rist eller Ro; først da han kom til den gamle, prægtige Stad Nurnberg, saa var det, som om Bisselæderet kom ham af Skoene, han mægtede at blive.
It was a strange city that looked as though it had been cut out of an old-fashioned picture book. Each street went its own way, not one of them was straight; and the houses did not necessarily follow them. Some of the houses jutted out and filled half the sidewalk, and not two of them looked alike. Some had bay windows and little towers, others had gables and carved cornices. Around the crooked roofs ran copper gutters shaped like dragons or strangely elongated dogs. Det er en underlig gammel By, som klippet ud af en Billed-Krønike. Gaderne ligge, som de selv ville, Husene holde ikke af at staae i Række; Karnapper med smaa Taarne, Snirkler og Billedstøtter springe frem over Fortouget, og høit oppe fra de underligt stillede Tage løber der midt ud over Gaden Tagrender, formede som Drager og langlivede Hunde.
Here, on the main square, Knud stood one morning with his knapsack on his back. He was looking at one of the old fountains whose waters fell down over marvelous bronze figures depicting scenes from the Bible and history. A pretty servingmaid had come to fetch water; she gave him a rose from the handful of flowers she was carrying. This, Knud decided, was a good omen. Paa Torvet her stod Knud med Randselen paa sin Ryg; han stod ved et af de gamle Springvande, hvor de herlige Malmfigurer, bibelske og historiske, staae mellem de springende Vandstraaler. - En smuk Tjenestepige hentede just Vand, hun gav Knud en Lædskedrik; og da hun havde en heel haandfuld Roser, gav hun ham ogsaa een af dem, og det syntes ham et godt Varsel.
He could hear the music of an organ. He was reminded of home, of the church in Køge. The church here was very large; it was a cathedral. Knud entered. The sunlight shone through the stained-glass windows and between the tall, slender columns. He felt the holiness of the place and for the first time his soul was at peace. Fra Kirken tæt ved brusede Orgelet ud til ham, det klang saa hjemligt, ligesom fra Kjøge Kirke og han traadte ind i den store Dom; Solen skinnede gjennem de malede Ruder, ind mellem de høie slanke Piller; der var Andagt i hans Tanke, der kom Stilhed i hans Sind.
He sought and found a good master; he stayed in Nuremberg and learned the language. Og han søgte og fandt en god Mester i Nurnberg, og hos ham blev han og lærte Sproget.
The old moat and defenses around the town had been made into gardens, but the city wall, with its sturdy towers, was still intact. There was a wooden gallery along the outside of the walls where ropemakers twisted their long cords into strong rope. In the cracks and crevices of the old stonemasonry, elderberry trees had taken root; their branches spread out over the low cottages built at the base of the walls. Here the master for whom Knud worked lived; and he had a little garret room in his master's house. The elderberry branches shaded the window of the attic in which Knud slept. De gamle Grave om Byen ere forvandlede til smaa Kjøkkenhaver, men de høie Mure staae endnu, med svære Taarne; Rebslageren snoer sine Reb paa det bjælkebyggede Gallerie henad Muren ind til Byen, og her rundt om fra Revner og Huller voxe Hyldetræer, der hænge deres Grene udover de smaa lave Huse nedenfor, og i eet af disse boede den Mester, som Knud arbeidede hos; hen over det lille Tagvindue, hvor han sov, hældede Hylden sine Grene.
He lived there one summer and the following winter, but when spring arrived he could not remain. The smell of the flowering elderberry was too much for him. It reminded him of Køge, of his home. He felt that he was back in the garden of his childhood. Knud found another master and moved farther inside the city where there were no elderberry trees. Her boede han en Sommer og en Vinter, men da Foraaret kom, saa var her ikke til at holde ud, Hylden stod i Blomster, og de duftede saa hjemligt, det var ligesom han var i Haven ved Kjøge, - og saa flyttede Knud fra sin Mester og hen til en anden længer inde i Byen, hvor der ingen Hyldetræer stod.
His new master lived near one of the old bridges, across from a water mill. The houses were built at the water's edge and they all had rickety old balconies that hung out over the river. Here were no elderberry trees, not even a single flower could grow; but there was an old willow tree. It clung to the house, holding onto it so that the raging waters could not uproot it and tear it away. Its branches hung down over the river just as the willow tree's at home had over the little stream. Det var tæt ved een af de gamle murede Broer, ligeover en altid brusende lav Vandmølle, han her kom paa Værksted; udenfor var der kun en rivende Flod, der blev indeklemt af Husene, som alle vare behængte med gamle skrøbelige Altaner, det saae ud, som om de vilde ryste dem ned i Vandet. - Her voxte ingen Hyld, her stod ikke engang en Urtepotte med en Smule Grønt i, men lige overfor var der et stort gammelt Piletræ, der ligesom holdt sig fast til Huset der, for ikke at rives bort af Strømmen; det strakte sine Grene hen over Floden, akkurat ligesom Piletræet i Haven ved Kjøge-Aa.
He had moved from "mother elderberry" to "father willow." Especially at night in the moonlight the willow tree would make him yearn for home. Jo, han var rigtignok flyttet fra Hyldemoer til Pilefaer, Træet her, især i Maaneskins Aftener, havde Noget, hvorved han følte sig:
 

"- saa dansk i Sind I Maaneskin!"

  men det var slet ikke Maaneskinnet, som gjorde det, nei det var det gamle Piletræ.
At last he could not stand it any longer. And why? Ask the flowering elderberry tree, ask the willow. He bade his master good-by and left Nuremberg to travel farther south. Han kunde ikke holde det ud, og hvorfor ikke? Spørg Pilen, spørg den blomstrende Hyld! - og saa sagde han Farvel til den Mester og til Nurnberg og drog længer bort.
He never talked to anyone about Johanna; he kept his sorrow locked within himself. But he often thought about the story of the two gingerbread figures and how the man had had a bitter almond on his left side. Now he felt he knew its bitter taste. Johanna, who was always gentle and smiling, was like the girl, gingerbread all the way through. The straps of his knapsack cut his shoulders and neck, he felt that he had difficulty breathing; he readjusted them but it did not help. The world was not whole around him, he carried half of it inside him, and that he could do nothing about. Til Ingen talte han om Johanne; inden i sig gjemte han sin Sorg, og sær Betydning lagde han i Historien om Honningkagerne; nu forstod han, hvorfor Mandfolket der havde en bitter Mandel til Venstre, han havde selv en bitter Smag deraf, og Johanne, som altid var saa mild og smilende, hun var bare Honningkage. Det var, som om Remmen fra hans Randsel snørede ham, saa at det var svært at trække Veiret, han løsnede den, men det hjalp ikke. Verden var kun halv uden om ham, den anden Halvdeel bar han inden i sig, saadan var det!
It was not before he reached the great mountains that the dimensions of the world grew real and his thoughts turned outward, not inward to torture himself. The sight of the Alps brought tears to his eyes. He thought they looked like the folded wings of the world. What would happen if the world spread its wings, with their great feathers of black forests, waterfalls, clouds, and snow fields? "On doomsday it will happen and the earth will fly toward God and break like a soap bubble! Oh, I wish doomsday would come!" he sighed. Først da han saae de høie Bjerge, blev Verden ham større, hans Tanker vendte ud ad, han fik Taarer i sine Øine. Alperne syntes ham Jordens sammenlagte Vinger; hvad om den opløftede dem, udbredte de store Fjer med brogede Billeder af sorte Skove, brusende Vande, Skyer og Snee-Masser! "Paa Dommedag løfter Jorden de store Vinger, flyver mod Gud og brister som Boble i hans klare Straaler! 0, gid at det var Dommedag!" sukkede han.
The countryside he passed through seemed to him like an enormous orchard. The young girls, sitting on the little wooden balconies of the houses doing lacework, would nod to the wanderer. The snow on the tall mountains glowed like embers in the light from the setting sun. The green lakes, surrounded by dark pine trees, reminded him of the color of the sea at home in Køge, but the sadness that he felt was more filled with sweetness than with pain. Stille vandrede han gjennem Landet, der syntes ham en græsgroet Frugthave; fra Husenes Træ-Altaner nikkede de kniplende Piger til ham, Bjergtoppene glødede i den røde Aftensol, og da han saae de grønne Søer mellem de mørke Træer - saa tænkte han paa Stranden ved Kjøgebugt; og der var Veemod, men ikke Smerte i hans Bryst.
Where the Rhine like a gigantic wave rushed forth and its waters were crushed and transformed into mist where rainbows play, he thought of the water mill near Køge. There, too, the water roared and was crushed into foam. Der hvor Rhinen, som een lang Bølge, vælter frem, styrter, knuses og forvandles i sneehvide klare Skymasser, som var det Skyernes Skabelse - Regnbuen flagrer som et løst Baand hen derover, - her tænkte han paa Vandmøllen ved Kjøge, hvor Vandet bruste og knustes.
He would have liked to stay in the little town by the Rhine but there were too many elderberries and willows growing there. So he set out across the great mountains. He walked through narrow passes, along roads that clung to the steep mountainside like swallows' nests. Far below him were clouds which hid the waterfalls that he could hear roaring in the abyss. Amidst the eternal snow he walked and the summer sun warmed his back. He said farewell to the north and came to the country where chestnut trees spread their crowns between fields of corn and vineyards. The mountains were a wall between himself and his memories, and that was a blessing. Gjerne var han blevet i den stille Rhinby, men her var saa megen Hyld og saa mange Piletræer, - og saa drog han videre; over de høie, mægtige Bjerge, gjennem Klippe-Sprængninger og hen ad Veie, der som Svalereder vare klinede til Steen-Væggen. Vandet bruste i Dybet, Skyerne laae under ham; over blanke Tidsler, Alperoser og Snee gik han i den varme Sommersol - og saa sagde han Farvel til Nordens Lande og kom ned under Kastanietræer, mellem Viinhaver og Maismarker. Bjergene var en Muur mellem ham og alle Erindringer, og saaledes skulde det være.
He came to the great city of Milan. There he found a German shoemaker who would hire him. The master and his wife were a kind, elderly couple who soon grew fond of the young journeyman, who, though he was so silent, worked so hard. It was as if God had finally given Knud peace, taken the burden from his heart. Der laae foran ham en stor, prægtig Stad, de kaldte den Milano og her fandt han en tydsk Mester, som gav ham Arbeide; det var et gammelt skikkeligt Ægtepar, han var kommet paa Værkstedet hos. Og de fik kjær den stille Svend, der talte lidt, arbeidede des mere og var from og kristelig. Det var ogsaa, som Gud havde taget den tunge Byrde fra hans Hjerte.
His greatest pleasure was to climb to the top of Milan Cathedral, which seemed to him to have been shaped out of the white snow of his own country. He stood among the spires and arches, with sculptures peeping out at him at every turn. Above him was the blue sky and below him the city and the great plains of Lombardy. Looking toward the north, he could see the snow-covered Alps, and at the sight of them he would recall Køge and its church with ivy-covered walls. But he no longer thought of it with longing. He had decided that here, beyond the great mountains, his grave would be. Hans bedste Lyst var, imellem at stige op paa den mæltige Marmor-Kirke, den syntes ham skabt af Snee hjemme fra, og formet i Billeder, spidse Taarne, blomstersmykkede aabne Haller; fra hver Krog, fra hver Spidse og Bue smilede de hvide Billedstøtter til ham. - Ovenover sig havde han den blaa Himmel, under sig Byen og den vidtudstrakte grønne Lombarder-Slette, og mod Nord de høie Bjerge med den evige Snee, - og saa tænkte han paa Kjøge-Kirke med Vedbenderankerne om de røde Mure, men han længtes ikke; her bag Bjergene vilde han begraves.
It was now three years since he had left Denmark and one whole year since he had come to Milan. One evening his employer, the old German shoemaker, invited him to the opera. What a fantastic theater it was, with its seven balconies, gold leafing, and silk curtains. Every seat was occupied by an elegantly dressed lady or gentleman; they looked as though they were at a ball. The women carried little bouquets of flowers in their hands. So many lamps burned that the huge room was as light as if the sun itself had been the chandelier. The orchestra began to play. It was much larger than the one in the theater in Copenhagen, but that evening Johanna had sung, while here . . . It was magic! The curtain rose and there stood Johanna clad in gold and silk, with a crown on her head! She sang as beautifully as only one of God's angels can and then she stepped to the front of the stage and smiled--as only Johanna could smile--down at Knud. Eet Aar havde han levet her, det var tre Aar siden han drog hjemme fra; da førte hans Mester ham ud i Staden, ikke til Arena, for at see Kunstberiderne, nei til den store Opera, og det var ogsaa en Sal, der var værd at see. - I syv Etager derinde hang der Silkegardiner, og fra Gulvet, svimlende høit op til Loftet, sad der de fineste Damer med Blomster-Bouquetter i Hænderne, ligesom om de skulde paa Bal, og Herrerne vare i fuld Stads og mange med Sølv og med Guld. Der var saa lyst, som i det klareste Solskin og saa bruste Musiken saa stærkt og deiligt, det var mere pragtfuldt end Comedien i Kjøbenhavn, men der var Johanne dog, og her - ja, det var som en Trolddom, Gardinet gik tilside og ogsaa her stod Johanne i Guld og Silke med Guldkrone paa Hovedet; hun sang som kun en Guds Engel kan synge; hun traadte saa langt frem hun kunde, hun smilede, som kun Johanne kunde det; hun saae lige paa Knud.
Poor Knud grabbed his master's hand and screamed as loudly as he could, "Johanna!" But his cry was drowned in the music. The old shoemaker nodded and said, "Yes, her name is Johanna," and then he took the program and pointed to the spot where her full name stood. Den stakkels Knud greb Mesters Haand og raabte høit "Johanne!" men det kunde ikke høres, Musikanterne spilte saa stærkt paa; og Mester nikkede dertil: "Ja vist hedder hun Johanne!" og saa tog han et trykt Blad og viste, at der stod hendes Navn, hele hendes Navn.
It was no dream! The audience applauded and shouted her name and the ladies threw their flowers up on the stage. Endless curtain calls were demanded. Nei, det var ingen Drøm! og alle Mennesker jublede for hende og kastede Blomster og Krandse til hende, og hver Gang hun gik, saa kaldte de paa hende igjen, hun gik og kom og atter kom.
When she left the opera house the crowd unharnessed the horses of her carriage and drew it in triumph through the city. Knud helped to pull it, and he was the happiest among that happy group. When they came to the brilliantly lit villa where she lived, Knud stood by the door of her carriage. It opened and she stepped out. The light from the many lamps illuminated her dear face. She smiled and thanked them all. She was deeply touched. Knud looked straight into her face and she looked straight into his, but she did not recognize him. A gentleman wearing a decoration on his chest offered her his arm. She took it. "They are engaged," he heard people behind whisper. Ude paa Gaden flokkede Folk sig om hendes Vogn og de trak den, og Knud var allerforrest og allergladest, og da de kom til hendes prægtigt oplyste Huus, stod Knud lige ved Vogndøren, der aabnedes, og hun traadte ud, og Lyset skinnede lige ind i hendes velsignede Ansigt og hun smilede og takkede saa mildt og hun var saa rørt; og Knud saae hende lige ind i Ansigtet og hun saae Knud lige ind i Ansigtet, men hun kjendte ham ikke. En Herre med Stjerne paa sit Bryst rakte hende sin Arm - de vare forlovede, sagde man.
Knud walked straight home and packed his knapsack. Now he wanted to return to the elderberry tree and to the willow tree. Yes, under the willow tree one could dream a whole life in one short hour. Og saa gik Knud hjem og snørte sin Randsel; han vilde, han maatte hjem til Hylden og Pilen - ak under Piletræet! i een Time kan man leve et heelt Menneskeliv!
Everyone begged him to stay, but they could not keep him from leaving. They told him that the first snow had already fallen in the mountains. But he only said that he would walk in the wheel tracks of a carriage and cut himself a good stout cane. De bad ham blive; ingen Ord kunde holde ham tilbage; de sagde ham, at det var mod Vintertid, at Sneen alt faldt i Bjergene; men i Sporet af den langsomt kjørende Vogn, - den maatte der jo banes Vei for, -kunde han gaae, med Randselen paa sin Ryg, støttende sig paa sin Stav.
He walked toward the mountains. He climbed up and came down on the other side. Weak and tired, he stumbled toward the north. The stars came out; it was night, no house or town was near. Far down below him, in the valley, stars were shining--it was the lamps in the houses but to Knud it appeared as if there were two heavens: one above him and one below. He felt that he was ill. More and more stars appeared below him. Finally he realized that it was a little village, and he gathered the last of his strength and walked toward it. Og han gik mod Bjergene, op ad dem og ned ad dem; afkræftet, saae han endnu ikke By eller Huus; det var mod Norden. Stjernerne tændtes ovenover ham, hans Fødder vaklede, hans Hoved svimlede; dybt nede i Dalen tændtes ogsaa Stjerner, det var, som om Himmelen ogsaa udstrakte sig neden under ham. Han følte sig syg. Stjernerne dernede bleve fleer og fleer og altid klarere, de bevægede sig hid og did. Det var en lille By, hvor Lysene blinkede, og da han forstod det, anstrængte han sine sidste Kræfter og naaede der et ringe Herberg.
He stayed a few days in a little inn. Down here in the valley the snow had already melted and the roads were muddy. One morning someone played a Danish melody on a barrel organ. His restless longing for home returned. Knud set out again. He walked so fast, as if he feared that if he did not get home soon he would find everyone there dead. To no one had he spoken of his grief, the greatest sorrow that a man can experience. Such misery you cannot tell to the world, for it does not amuse or entertain anyone, even your friends. And poor Knud had no friends. A foreigner in a foreign land, he wandered homeward toward the north. He had received only one letter from his parents and that had been more than a year ago. In it they had written, "You are not really Danish like we are. We love our country but you love only foreign lands." His parents felt they had a right to write like that because they knew him, because they were his father and mother. Et heelt Døgn blev han her, thi hans Legeme trængte til Hvile og Pleie. Det var Tø og Slud i Dalen. En Morgenstund kom her en Liremand, han spillede en Melodie hjemme fra Danmark, og saa kunde Knud ikke længer holde det ud, - han gik i Dage, i mange Dage, med en Hast, som gjaldt det at komme hjem før de allesammen døde der; - men til Ingen talte han om sin Længsel, Ingen kunde troe, han havde Hjertesorg, den dybeste man kan have, den er ikke for Verden, den er ikke moersom, den er ikke engang for Vennerne og han havde ingen Venner! Fremmed gik han i fremmed Land, hjemad, mod Norden. I det eneste Brev hjemme fra, det Forældrene for Aar og Dag siden havde skrevet, stod: "Du er ikke rigtig dansk, som vi andre hjemme! vi ere det saa uhyre! Du holder kun af fremmed Land!" Forældrene kunde skrive det - ja, de kjendte ham jo!
It was evening. He was walking along a broad highway; it began to freeze. The landscape had become more and more flat, there were fields and meadows. At the side of the road stood a big willow tree. Everything looked so homely, so Danish. He sat down under the willow tree. He was terribly tired; his head fell down on his chest and he closed his eyes. He felt that the branches of the tree engulfed him, embraced him. The tree became an old man, "father willow" himself; and he lifted Knud up in his arms and carried his tired son home to the bleak beach of Køge, to the garden of his childhood. Yes, it was the willow tree from Køge, it had gone out into the world to find him, and now "father willow" had found him and brought him back to the little garden by the stream. And there stood Johanna, dressed in all the beautiful clothes she had had on when last he saw her, and with the golden crown on her head. She shouted to him, "Welcome!" Det var Aften, han gik paa den aabne Landevei, det begyndte at fryse; Landet selv blev mere og mere fladt med Mark og Eng; der stod ved Veien et stort Piletræ; Alt saae saa hjemligt, saa dansk ud! han satte sig under Pilen, han følte sig saa træt, hans Hoved bøiede sig, hans Øine lukkede sig til Hvile, men han følte og fornam, hvorledes Pilen sænkede sine Grene ned imod ham, Træet syntes en gammel mægtig Mand, det var Pilefaer selv, der løftede ham paa sine Arme og bar ham, den trætte Søn, hjem til det danske Land ved den aabne blege Strand, til Kjøgeby, til Barndoms-Haven. Ja, det var Piletræet selv fra Kjøge, der var gaaet ud i Verden for at søge og finde ham, og nu var han fundet og bragt hjem i den lille Have ved Aaen, og her stod Johanne i al sin Pragt, med Guldkronen paa, som han sidst havde seet hende og raabte: "Velkommen!"
Beside her stood two strange figures; they looked larger and more human than they had when he was a child. They were the gingerbread man and the gingerbread girl. Og lige foran dem stode to underlige Skikkelser, men de saae meget mere menneskelige ud end i Barndoms Tiden, de havde ogsaa forandret sig; det var de to Honningkager, Mandfolket og Fruentimmeret; de vendte Retten til og saae godt ud.
"Thank you," they said to Knud. "You have taught us always to speak up and say what one feels, or else nothing will come of it. We have, and now we are engaged." "Tak!" sagde de begge to til Knud; "Du har løst vor Tunge! Du har lært os, at man skal freidigt udtale sin Tanke, ellers kommer der ikke noget ud af det! og nu er der kommet noget ud af det! - vi ere forlovede!"
Then the gingerbread couple walked ahead of them through the town of Køge, and they looked very decent and proper even from behind. They walked right up to the church, and Knud and Johanna followed them; they, too, were walking hand in hand. The church looked as it always had, with green ivy covering its walls. The big doors of the church opened, the organ was playing. At the entrance the gingerbread couple stepped aside and said, "The bridal couple must go first." Knud and Johanna walked up to the altar and kneeled down. Ice-cold tears ran from Johanna's eyes. It was his great love that was thawing the ice around her heart; the tears fell on his burning cheeks and woke him. There he sat under a willow tree in a foreign land on a cold winter evening, while the winds whipped hail into his face. Og saa gik de Haand i Haand gjennem Kjøge Gader, og de saae meget anstændigt ud paa Vrangen, der var ikke Noget at sige paa dem! og de gik lige hen mod Kjøge Kirke, og Knud og Johanne fulgte efter; de gik ogsaa Haand i Haand; og Kirken stod som før med røde Mure og deiligt Vedbendgrønt, og Kirkens store Dør aabnede sig til begge Sider og Orgelet bruste og Mandfolket og Fruentimmeret gik begge op af Kirkegangen: "Herskabet først!" sagde de, "Honningkagernes Brudefolk!" og saa traadte de hver til sin Side for Knud og Johanne, og de knælede deroppe og hun bøiede sit Hoved over hans Ansigt, og der trillede iskolde Taarer fra hendes Øine, det var Isen der smeltede om hendes Hjerte ved hans stærke Kjærlighed, og de faldt paa hans brændende Kinder, og - han vaagnede ved det, og sad under det gamle Piletræ i fremmed Land, i den vinterkolde Aften; der faldt fra Skyerne isnende Hagl, de pidskede hans Ansigt.
"That was the loveliest moment of my life," he mumbled. "And it was only a dream. God, let me dream it once more!" He closed his eyes. He slept, and he dreamed. "Det var den deiligste Time i mit Liv!" sagde han, "og den var en Drøm. - Gud, lad mig drømme den om igjen!" og han lukkede sine Øine, han sov, han drømte.
In the early morning it began to snow, and the wind made a snowdrift that covered his legs and his feet while he slept. At church time the peasants found the journeyman; he had frozen to death underneath the willow tree. I Morgenstunden faldt Sneen, den fygede hen over hans Fødder, han sov. Landsbyfolk gik til Kirke; der sad en Haandværkssvend, han var død, frosset ihjel - under Piletræet.

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