The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

What the Wind Told About Valdemar Daae and His Daughters - Vinden fortæller om Valdemar Daae og hans Døttre.

1859

What the Wind Told About Valdemar Daae and His Daughters Vinden fortæller om Valdemar Daae og hans Døttre.
When the wind runs across the fields, then the grass ripples like water and the fields of grain form waves like the sea. That is the dance of the wind. But try to listen to it when it sings. Its songs sound differently according to where you hear them, whether you are in a forest or listening when the wind makes its way through cracks and crevices in a wall. Look up and watch how the wind is chasing the clouds, as if they were a flock of sheep. Listen as it howls through the open gates; it thinks it is the night watchman blowing a horn. Now it is coming down the chimney; the fire in the fireplace burns higher and sparks fly. The light from the flames illuminates the whole room for a minute. It is so nice and warm and cozy in here, just right for listening. Let the wind tell us what story it wants to, it knows so many more tales and stories than we do. Naar Vinden løber hen over Græsset, da kruser det sig som et Vand, løber den hen over Kornet, da bølger det som en Sø, det er Vindens Dands; men hør den fortælle: den synger det ud, og anderledes klinger det i Skovens Træer, end igjennem Murens Lydhuller, Sprækker og Revner. Seer Du, hvor Vinden deroppe jager Skyerne, som vare de en Faarehjord! hører Du, hvor Vinden hernede tuder gjennem den aabne Port, som var den Vægter og blæste i Horn! Underligt suser den ned i Skorstenen og ind i Kaminen; Ilden flammer og gnistrer derved, skinner langt ud i Stuen og her er saa luunt og hyggeligt at sidde og høre til. Lad kun Vinden fortælle! den veed Eventyr og Historier, flere end vi Alle tilsammen. Hør nu, hvor den fortæller:
"Whoo . . . whoo . . . All will pass. . . . Whoo. . . whoo!" that is the chorus of all its songs. "Hu- u- ud! fare hen!" - det er Omqvædet paa Visen.
"On the shores of the Great Belt lies an old castle with red brick Walls," began the wind. "I know every stone in the building. Most of them had been used before in Marsk Stig's castle, but that was torn down by order of the king. Its great walls were destroyed but the bricks were saved; they could become new walls in another place. They were used to build Borreby Castle and that is still standing. "Der ligger ved store Belt en gammel Gaard med tykke, røde Mure!" siger Vinden, "jeg kjender hver Steen, jeg saae den før, da den sad i Marsk Stigs Borg paa Næsset; den maatte ned! Stenen kom op igjen og blev en ny Muur, en ny Gaard, andet Steds, det var Borreby Gaard, som den staaer endnu!
I have seen and known all the noble gentlemen and ladies who have lived there; all the different families who have claimed it as theirs. But I will tell only about one of them: Valdemar Daae and his daughters. Jeg har seet og kjendt de høiadelige Mænd og Fruer, de vexlende Slæter, som boede derinde, nu fortæller jeg om Valdemar Daae og hans Døttre!
He was proud, Valdemar Daae, royal blood flowed in his veins. He knew how to do more than hunt deer and empty a tankard of beer. He could take care of himself, as he said. Han løftede saa stolt sin Pande, han var af kongelig Æt! han kunde mere end jage en Hjort og tømme et Kruus; - det vilde nok klare sig, sagde han selv.
His wife's clothes were embroidered with gold. She walked proudly and stiffly across the polished tile floors of the castle. Tapestries hung on the walls and the furniture was carved and inlaid with rosewood. Much silver and gold had she brought to her husband's house. In the cellar was German beer and in the stable stood handsome black horses. Oh, everything was fine and rich in Borreby Castle, while it lasted. Hans Frue skred frem strunk i Gyldenstykkes Kjortel, hen over sit blanke, tavlede Gulv; Tapeterne vare prægtige, Meublerne dyrtkjøbte, de vare kunstigt snittede ud. Sølv- og Guldtøi havde hun bragt i Huset; tydsk Øl laae i Kjælderen, da der laae noget; sorte, vælige Heste vrinskede i Stalden; der var rigt derinde i Borreby Gaard, da Rigdommen var der.
Three children they had, three young noble maidens: Ida, Johanne, and Anna Dorthea. I remember their names still. Og Børn var der; tre fine Jomfruer, Ide, Johanne og Anna Dorthea; jeg husker Navnene endnu.
They were rich, they were noble. They had been born and had grown up in splendor and magnificence. Whoo . . . who . . . All will pass! Whoo . . . whoo!" sang the wind, and then continued its story: Det var rige Folk, det var fornemme Folk, født i Herlighed og voxet op i den! hu- u- ud! fare hen," sang Vinden, og saa fortalte den igjen.
"In most of the castles in olden times, the noble mistress herself would sit with her maids in the great hall and spin; but not here at Borreby. Her hands would do no harder work than touching the strings of the lute; and the melodies she played and the songs she sang were more often foreign than Danish. Guests came every day: noble friends from far and wide. The noise from the feasting and drinking was so loud that I could not drown it. Here were arrogance and willfulness: masters who recognized no master. "Her saae jeg ikke, som i andre gamle Gaarde, den høibaarne Frue sidde i Høisalen med sine Piger og dreie Spinderokken, hun spillede paa den klingende Luth og sang dertil, dog ikke altid de gamle danske Sange, men Viser i fremmed Tungemaal. Her var Liv og Gjestereren, her kom fornemme Gjester fra nær og fjern, Musiken klang, Bægerne klang, jeg kunde ikke døve dem over!" sagde Vinden. "Her var Hovmod med Bram og med Brask, Herskab, men ikke Vor Herre!
It was the evening of the first of May. I had come from the west, where I had seen a ship being wrecked by the waves on the coast of Jutland. I had danced across the heath and the forests of Fyn. I crossed the Great Belt, blowing hard and whipping the waves. Saa var det just Maidags Aften," sagde Vinden, "jeg kom Vester fra, havde seet Skibe qvase i Vrag paa Vestjyllands Kyst, jaget over Heden og den skovgrønne Kyst, hen over Fyens Land og kom nu over store Belt, hæsende og blæsende.
When I came to the coast of Zealand I was tired and lay down to rest in the oak forest near Borreby Castle. Da lagde jeg mig til Ro ved Sjællands Kyst, nær ved Borreby Gaard, hvor endnu Skoven stod med herlige Ege.
The young men from the district had come to gather wood for a bonfire. They selected the driest branches and twigs they could find and took them back to the village. I followed them as quietly and softly as a cat. It was the custom there that each of the young men selected a stick; and when the fire was ablaze, they all put their sticks in the flames to see whose would catch fire first. The lucky one would be called the 'prince of spring,' and he could select among the girls his 'spring lamb,' who would be his partner in the dance. As the flames grew, the young men and maidens of the village sang and made a ring around the bonfire. De unge Karle fra Egnen kom herud og samlede Riis og Grene, de største og tørreste, de kunde finde. De gik med dem til Byen, lagde dem i Bunke, tændte Ild i den og Piger og Karle dandsede med Sang rundt derom.
I was lying so still," continued the wind, "that no one knew I was there. Quietly, I breathed a little on one of the branches and the flames flared up. The young man whom I had selected laughed. I had chosen the one I found the handsomest. Now he was the May prince and could select his lamb among the blushing girls. Oh, here were happiness and gaiety, much greater than in the rich castle of Borreby. Jeg laae stille," sagde Vinden, "men sagtelig rørte jeg ved een Green, den, der var lagt af den kjønneste Ungkarl; hans Ved blussede op, blussede høiest; han var den udvalgte, fik Hædersnavnet, blev Gadebasse, valgte først blandt Pigerne sit lille Gadelam; det var en Glæde, en Lystighed større end der inde i det rige Borreby Gaard."
With six horses in front of their golden carriage the noble lady of Borreby and her daughters, three lovely flowers--the rose, the lily, and the pale hyacinth--came driving by. The mother herself was a tulip, showy but without fragrance. She did not nod or greet the young people, some of whom had stopped dancing in order to curtsy and bow. Maybe her stalk was so fragile, it would have broken if she had tried. "Og hen imod Gaarden kom med sex Heste agende i gylden Karreet den høie Frue og hendes tre Døttre, saa fine, saa unge, tre yndelige Blomster: Rose, Lilie og den blege Hyazint. Moderen selv var en prangende Tulipan, hun hilsede ikke Een af den hele Flok, der holdt op i Legen og knixede og krøb, man skulde troe, at Fruen var skjør i Stilken.
The rose, the lily, and the pale hyacinth; I saw them and thought: 'Whose lambs will they be? Will their May princes be knights or maybe real princes?' Whoo . . . whoo . . . All will pass. . . . Whoo . . . whoo! Rose, Lilie og den blege Hyazint, ja, jeg saae dem alle tre! hvis Gadelam skulde vel de engang blive, tænkte jeg; deres Gadebasse bliver en stoltelig Ridder, maaskee en Prinds! Hu- u- ud! - fare hen! fare hen!
  Ja, Agetøiet foer med dem og Bønderfolkene foer i Dandsen. Der blev redet Sommer i By til Borreby, til Tjæreby, til alle de Byer omkring.
That night I rose and blew upon the highborn lady of Borreby. She took to her bed and she never rose again. Death came to her as it comes to all human beings, that story is not new. Valdemar Daae stood by her bedside. Sadly and thoughtfully he looked at his dead wife. 'The proud trees can be bent but they cannot be broken,' he thought. The daughters wept. Everyone in the castle had moist eyes that day, but the Lady Daae had passed hence, as all will pass. Whoo . . . whoo! All will pass," said the wind. Men om Natten, da jeg reiste mig," sagde Vinden, "lagde den høifornemme Frue sig, for aldrig mere at staae op; det kom saadan over hende, som det kommer over alle Mennesker, det er ikke noget Nyt. Valdemar Daae stod alvorlig og tankefuld, en lille Stund; det stolteste Træe kan vries, men ikke knækkes, sagde det inde i ham; Døttrene græd og paa Gaarden tørrede de Allesammen deres Øine, men Fru Daae var faret hen, og jeg foer hen! hu- u- ud!" sagde Vinden.
"Often I returned to Borreby and sang in the great oak forest, where the fish hawk, the blue ravens, the wood pigeons, and the rare black storks nest. It was in early summer--when the birds were still nesting or had young ones that could not yet fly--that the sound of the ax was heard. How the birds screamed in anger and fury; but that did not help, the forest was to be cut down. Valdemar Daae had decided to build a ship, a costly vessel with three decks. He felt certain that the king would purchase it, and Valdemar was in need of money. That was the reason why the ancient oaks were being felled, that had been the landmark of the sailors, the home of the birds. Terrified, the blue raven flew up as its nest, with young ones in it, was destroyed. The fish hawk circled above its wrecked nest with its crushed eggs. How they all screamed in fear and anger. I understood them. Only the crows seemed not to care and mocked the others. "Jeg kom igjen, jeg kom tidt igjen, over Fyens Land og Beltets Vand, satte mig ved Borreby Strand, ved den prægtige Egeskov; der byggede Fiskeørnen, Skovduerne, de blaae Ravne og selv den sorte Stork. Det var tidligt paa Aaret, Nogle havde Æg og Nogle havde Unger. Nei, hvor de fløi, hvor de skreg; der var Øxeslag at høre, Slag paa Slag; Skoven skulde fældes, Valdemar Daae vilde bygge et kosteligt Skib, et Orlogsskib paa tre Fordæk, som Kongen nok vilde kjøbe, og derfor faldt Skoven, Sømændenes Mærke, Fuglenes Bo. Tornskaden fløi foskrækket, dens Rede blev Ødelagt; Fiskeørnen og alle Skovens Fugle mistede deres Hjem, de fløi vildsomme om og skrege i Angest og Vrede, jeg forstod dem nok. Krager og Alliker raabte høit i Spot: "fra Reden! fra Reden i fra! fra!"
In the middle of the forest stood Valdemar Daae with his three daughters. They laughed at the cries of the birds; only the youngest of them, Anna Dorthea, felt pity. When the workmen wanted to cut down a half-dead oak tree on whose naked branches the black stork had built its nest, Anna Dorthea begged with tearful eyes that the tree be spared for the sake of the little fledglings that were sticking their heads up above the brim of the nest. That tree was allowed to stand because of the black stork, but that did not help the other birds. Og midt i Skoven, ved Arbeidernes Flok, stod Valdemar Daae og hans tre Døttre, og de loe Allesammen af Fuglenes vilde Skrig, men hans mindste Datter, Anna Dorthea, følte Ynk derover i sit Hjerte, og da de ogsaa vilde fælde et halvudgaaet Træ, paa hvis nøgne Green den sorte Stork havde bygget, og de smaa Unger stak Hovederne frem, bad hun for den, bad med Vand i Øinene, og saa fik Træet Lov at staae med Reden for den sorte Stork. Det var en ringe Ting kun.
All that year the noise of hammers, saws, and axes was heard; a ship was being built. The master builder who had designed the ship had a common name and a noble soul. His face, his eyes spoke of intelligence; and Valdemar Daae liked to listen to the young man and so did his daughter Ida. She was the oldest of the three, she was fifteen. While the young man built a ship for her father, he built a castle of dreams in the air for himself and Ida to live in, as man and wife. Married they could have been if his castle had been built of stones and its moat and apple orchards had been real. But despite his cleverness he was only a poor bird, and the sparrow fares ill in the company of hawks. Whoo, whoo! I flew away and so did he. Little Ida got over it, because she had to. Der blev hugget, der blev savet, - der blev bygget et Skib paa tre Fordæk. Bygmesteren selv var af ringe Kuld, men af adelig Huld; Øine og Pande mælede om hvor klog han var og Valdemar Daae hørte ham gjerne fortælle, det hørte ogsaa liden Ide, den ældste, den femtenaars Datter; og mens han byggede Skib for Faderen, byggede han Drømmeslot for sig selv, hvori han og liden Ide sad som Mand og Kone, og det var ogsaa skeet, havde Slottet været af murede Steen med Volde og Grave, Skov og Have. Men med al sin Kløgt var Mester dog kun en fattig Fugl, og hvad skal Spurv i Tranedands? Hu- u- ud! jeg fløi bort og han fløi bort, for han turde ikke blive, og liden Ide forvandt det, for hun maatte forvinde det!"
In the stable the black horses neighed. They were worth looking at, and someone looked. The admiral, who had been sent by the king to inspect the ship and decide whether the king should buy it and, if so, at what price, looked at the horses and praised them loudly. I heard him," said the wind. "I followed the high and mighty gentlemen into the stable and blew little bits of golden straw where they walked. Valdemar Daae wanted gold and the admiral wanted the black horses, that was the reason he praised them so highly. But Valdemar Daae did not, or would not, understand the hints, and so the king did not buy his ship. It stood down on the beach, under a roofing of planks looking like a Noah's ark that had never been launched. Whoo! whoo! All will pass. . . . Whoo! Whoo! "I Stalden vrinskede de sorte Heste, værd at see paa og de bleve seet paa. - Admiralen var sendt fra Kongen selv for at see paa det nye Orlogsskib og tale om dets Kjøb, han talte høit i Beundring om de vælige Heste; jeg hørte det godt!" sagde Vinden; "jeg fulgte med Herrerne gjennem den aabne Dør og strøede Halmstraae som Guldstænger foran deres Fødder. Guld vilde Valdemar Daae have, Admiralen vilde have de sorte Heste, thi roste han dem saa, men det blev ikke forstaaet og saa blev Skibet heller ikke kjøbt, det stod og skinnede ved Stranden, dækket til med Planker, en Noæ Ark, der aldrig kom paa Vandet. Hu- u- ud! fare hen! fare hen! og det var ynkeligt!
In the winter when the fields were covered with snow and drifting ice floes filled the Great Belt, I sometimes packed the ice so far up on the shore that it almost reached Valdemar Daae's ship. Great flocks of ravens and crows, one blacker than the other, were perched on this bare, lonesome, dead ship that lay on the beach. With their hoarse cries they told about the forest that was no more, of the nests that had been destroyed, of the old birds that had been made homeless, and the young who had died. For what? For a ship that would never sail. I Vinterens Tid, naar Marken laae med Snee, Drivisen fyldte Beltet og jeg skruede den op paa Kysten," sagde Vinden, "kom Ravne og Krager, den ene sortere end den anden, store Flokke; de satte sig paa det øde, det døde, det eensomme Skib ved Stranden og skrege med hæse Skrig om Skoven, der var borte, de mange kostelige Fuglereder, der vare lagte øde, de huusvilde Gamle, de huusvilde Smaa og alt det for det store Skrammels Skyld, det stolte Fartøi, der aldrig skulde ud at seile.
I whirled the snow high up over it as though it were foam breaking against the hull. I let it hear what I had to say: the voice of the storm. I did my best to teach it a bit of seamanship. Whoo! . . . All will pass. Jeg hvirvlede Sneefoget; Sneen laae som store Søer høit omkring det, hen over det! jeg lod det høre min Røst, hvad en Storm har at sige; jeg veed, at jeg gjorde mit til, at det kunde faae Skibskundskab. Hu- uud! fare hen!
The winter passed and the summer passed, as all seasons and years do pass. I pass, too, and yet I stay. . . . Whoo . . . whoo!. . . Og Vinteren foer hen, Vinter og Sommer de foer og de fare, som jeg farer, som Sneen fyger, Æbleblomsten fyger og Løvet falder! fare hen, fare hen, fare hen, Menneskene med!
The daughters were still young. Little Ida was a rose, as beautiful to look at as when the ship builder saw her. Often I would play with her long brown hair when she stood under the apple trees in the garden, so lost in thought that she did not notice that I filled her long loose hair with apple blossoms. She would be watching the sun set and the golden sky behind the dark trees and bushes of the park. Men endnu vare Døttrene unge, liden Ide en Rose deilig at see, som da Skibsbyggeren saae hende. Tidt tog jeg fat i hendes lange, brune Haar, naar hun ved Æbletræet i Haven stod tankefuld og ikke mærkede, at jeg dryssede hende Blomster paa Haaret, der løste sig, og hun saae paa den røde Sol og den gyldne Himmelgrund mellem Havens mørke Buske og Træer.
"Her sister Johanne was more like a lily: shining and with a back as straight as her mother's had been. Her stem, too, was brittle. She liked to walk in the gallery where the paintings of her ancestors hung. The ladies had been painted dressed in silk and velvet. Their hair was braided and on their heads were little black caps embroidered with pearls. Beautiful they were, all of them. Their husbands were portrayed, with swords at their sides, wearing armor and capes lined with squirrel skin. Where would Johanne's picture one day hang? Who would be her noble husband, and what would he look like? Johanne thought about it and even talked about it to herself; I heard her when I whistled through the long gallery. Hendes Søster var som en Lilie, skinnende og strunk, Johanne; hun havde Reisning og Kneisning, var som Moderen skjør af Stilk. Gjerne gik hun i den store Sal, hvor Slægtens Billeder hang; Fruerne vare malede af i Fløiel og Silke med perlebestukken lille bitte Hat paa de flettede Haar; det var skjønne Fruer! deres Hosbond saae man i Staal eller kostelig Kappe med Egernskindsfoer og den blaa Pibekrave; Sværdet var spændt om Laaret og ikke om Lænden. Hvor skulde vel Johannes Billed engang hænge paa Væggen og hvordan saae han ud den adelige Hosbond? ja, det tænkte hun paa, det smaasnakkede hun om, jeg hørte det, naar jeg foer gjennem den lange Gang ind i Salen og vendte mig igjen!
Anna Dorthea, the pale hyacinth, was still only fourteen years old, but quiet and thoughtful. Her big, water-blue eyes looked pensively out at the world, but on her lips was a sweet childlike smile; I could not have blown that away, nor did I want to. Anna Dorthea, den blege Hyazint, kun et fjortenaars Barn, var stille og eftertænksom; de store, vandblaae Øine saae tankefulde ud, men Barnesmilet sad om Munden, jeg kunde ikke blæse det bort, og det vilde jeg ikke heller.
I met her often in the garden, when she was searching for herbs and flowers that she knew her father could use in distilling strange medicines and potions. Valdemar Daae was arrogant and proud, but he was also clever, and knew more than most men. People mentioned that when they discussed why he kept a fire in his chamber, even in midsummer. The door to his room was locked, and sometimes no one saw him for several days at a time. When he finally did come out, he told no one of what he had been doing in such secrecy behind the barred door. The powers of nature are best studied in solitude. Soon he expected to solve its mystery and win what was best of all, gold! Jeg traf hende i Haven, Huulveien og paa Hovmarken, hun samlede Urter og Blomster, dem hun vidste, at hendes Fader kunde bruge til de Drikke og Draaber, han vidste at destillere; Valdemar Daae var hovmodig og kry, men ogsaa, kyndig og vidste saa meget; det mærkede man nok, det mumledes der om; Ilden brændte i hans Kamin selv ved Sommertid; Kammerdøren var lukket af; det tog til i Dage og Nætter, men han talte ikke meget om det; Naturens Kræfter skal man stille raade, snart vilde han nok udfinde det Bedste - det røde Guld.
That is why the smoke rose from his chimney and strange vapors rose from the caldrons. I know all about it," said the wind, "for I was there. I blew down the chimney and sang: 'Whoo . . . Let it pass. . . . Whoo! Smoke, embers, and ashes, you will burn yourself up. Whoo . . . Let it pass. . . . Whoo!' But Valdemar Daae would not let it pass. Derfor dampede det fra Kaminen, derfor knittrede og flammede det! ja, jeg var med!" fortalte Vinden, "lad fare! lad fare! sang jeg gjennem Skorstenen. Det bliver Røg, Smøg, Emmer og Aske! Du brænder Dig selv op! hu- u- ud! fare hen! fare hen! men Valdemar Daae lod det ikke fare!
Where were the black horses? Where were all the gold and silver plates, the cows, the grain? All had been melted down in the caldron, and yet he found no gold. De prægtige Heste paa Stalden, - hvor blev de af ? det gamle Sølvog Guldtøi i Skab og i Buur, Køerne paa Marken, Gods og Gaard? - ja, de kunne smelte! smelte i Gulddigelen, og der kommer dog ikke Guld.
The stables were empty, the lofts bare, and no longer were the cellars filled with wine and beer. Less servants and more mice; a windowpane broke and was never replaced; and I no longer had to trouble myself with finding cracks through which to enter," said the wind. "When the chimney smokes the table will soon be set, but not at Borreby; here the smoke pleased only one appetite: Valdemar Daae's for gold. Der blev tomt i Lo og i Fadebuur, i Kjælder og paa Loft. Færre Folk, flere Muus. Een Rude sprak, een knak, jeg behøvede ikke at gaae ind ad Døren!" sagde Vinden. "Hvor Skorstenen ryger, braser Maaltidet, Skorstenen røg, den, der slugte alle Maaltider, for det røde Guld.
I blew through the gates and made a noise like the night watchman's horn, but there was no longer any night watchman. I turned the weather vane on the tower; it was rusty and squeaked like a guard sleeping on duty, but there was no guard. Rats and mice there were aplenty; poverty set the table, and poverty sat in the larder and in the clothes closet as well. Hinges broke and doors sat askew, everywhere cracks appeared. I know," said the wind, "for I entered them all. Jeg blæste gjennem Borgporten, som en Vægter der blæser i Horn, men der var ingen Vægter!" sagde Vinden; "jeg dreiede Spirets Veirhane, den skurrede, som om Vægteren snorkede paa Taarnet, men der var ingen Vægter; der var Rotter og Muus; Fattigdom dækkede Bordet, Fattigdom sad i Klædeskab og i Madskab, Døren gik af Hængselet, der kom Revner og Sprækker; jeg gik ud og jeg gik ind," sagde Vinden, "derfor veed jeg god Besked!
In smoke and ashes, in sorrowful sleepless nights, the hair and beard of Valdemar Daae grew gray and his skin yellow; but his eyes searched as greedily as before for gold. I Røg og Aske, i Sorg og søvnløs Nat blev Haaret graat i Skjæg og om Pande, Huden grumset og guul, Øinene saa gridske efter Guld, det forventede Guld.
"I blew smoke and ashes in his face; and blew through the broken windows right into his daughters' bedrooms. In their closets were rags that once had been riches, for even the finest dress can be outworn. The song they heard now had not been sung to them when they were in their cradles. Their noble life had become a miserable life; and I, the wind, was the only one that sang in the castle. One winter day I snowed them in; great drifts I piled against the castle walls. They say that snow makes it warmer. But they had nothing to burn; their forest had been cut down and where should they get wood from? It was fine frosty weather, and I danced and jumped across walls and gables, through windows and doors. They all lay abed, freezing, the three poor noble ladies and their father, who tried to keep warm under his fur blanket. Whoo . . . Nothing to eat, and not a log for the fire. Whoo! That was a noble life. Whoooo . . . All will pass...Whoooo! Valdemar Daae could not, and would not, give up. Jeg pustede ham Røg og Aske ind i hans Ansigt og Skjæg; Gjeld kom for Guld. Jeg sang gjennem de knækkede Ruder og aabne Revner, blæste ind til Døttrenes Slagbænk, hvor Klæderne laae falmede, luslidte, for de maatte altid holde ud. Den Vise var ikke sjungen for de Børns Vugge! Herreliv blev kummerligt Liv! jeg alene var den, som sang høit paa Slottet;" sagde Vinden. "Jeg sneede dem inde, det luner, siger man; Brænde havde de ikke, Skoven var fældet, hvor de skulde hente det fra. Det var klingrende Frost; jeg svang mig gjennem Lydhuller og Gange, over Gavl og Muur for at holde mig flink; derinde laae de i Sengen, for Kuldens Skyld, de adelige Døttre; Faderen krøb under Skinddynen. Ikke at bide og ikke at brænde, det er Herreliv! huu- ud! lad fare! - Men det kunde ikke Hr. Daae!
'After winter, spring must come,' he said. 'After lean times come the fat, but they take their time coming. Soon I must pay my debts. I have no time left, I must find gold before Easter!' 'Paa Vinter kommer Foraar!' sagde han, 'paa Trang komme gode Tider! - men de lade vente paa sig, vente! Nu er Gaarden Gjeldsbrev! nu er det den yderste Tid - og saa kommer Guldet! til Paaske!'
I heard him mumble all this and, as he looked at the spider's web, he smiled and said, 'Oh, you busy little spinner, I can learn from you! If I tear your web, you start another right away, and finish it; and if that is torn, you are not disheartened but begin again. One must not lose faith but do things over and over, if one must; and then the reward is sure to come!' Jeg hørte ham mumle ind i Edderkoppens Spind. - 'Du flinke, lille Væver! Du lærer mig at holde ud! rives itu dit Spind, begynder Du forfra igjen og fuldender! atter itu - og ufortrøden tager Du igjen fat, forfra! - forfra! det er det man skal! og det lønnes!'
It was Easter morning, the church bells rang, and the sun was playing in the sky. Feverishly, Valdemar Daae had worked: boiled, distilled, and mixed the strangest potions; he had not slept for many a night. I heard him sigh like a tormented soul and I heard him pray. The candles had long ago burned down and he had not noticed it. I blew on the coals and they glowed and their light turned his pale white face red. He squinted his eyes, then he opened them up wide--so wide that I was afraid they might fall out. Det var Paaskemorgen, Klokkerne klang, Solen legede paa Himlen. I Feberhede havde han vaaget, kogt og kølet, blandet og destilleret. Jeg hørte ham sukke som en fortvivlet Sjæl, jeg hørte ham bede, jeg fornam at han holdt sin Aande tilbage. Lampen var gaaet ud, han mærkede det ikke; jeg pustede til Kulgløderne, de skinnede ham ind i hans kridhvide Ansigt, det fik et farvet Skjær, Øinene klemtes i de dybe Øienhuler men nu blev de store, store - som vilde de springe.
Something shone and glittered in the glass beaker. He lifted it up high with trembling hands and then shouted loudly: 'Gold! gold!' He swayed as if he were going to faint. If I had blown on him I am sure he would have fallen," said the wind. "But I didn't, I blew on the smoldering coals and followed him out through the door and into the chamber where his daughters lay abed, still freezing. His clothes were filled with ashes, as were his unkempt hair and beard. He straightened himself and held up, triumphantly, the fragile glass beaker. 'I have won, I have won! Gold!' he screamed. And the sunlight played on the sparkling residue in the bottom of the glass; his hand shook and the alchemist's glass fell on the floor and broke into a thousand pieces. The last of his bubbles had burst! Whooo . . . whooo . . . All will pass! . . . Whooo! And I did pass out of the alchemist's house, out to the free and open fields. See, det alchymistiske Glas! det blinker deri! det er glødende, puurt og tungt! han løftede det med zittrende Haand, han raabte med zittrende Tunge: 'Guld! Guld!' han svimlede derved, jeg kunde have blæst ham om," sagde Vinden, "men jeg blæste kun paa de glødende Kul, fulgte ham gjennem Døren, ind, hvor Døttrene frøs. Hans Kjortel var belagt med Aske, den hang i hans Skjæg og i hans filtrede Haar. Han reiste sig saa høit, løftede sin rige Skat i det skjøre Glas: 'fundet! vundet! - Guld!' raabte han, strakte i Veiret Glasset, der blinkede i Solstraalerne; - og Haanden zittrede og det alchymistiske Glas faldt paa Gulvet og sprang i tusinde Stykker; sprungen var hans Velfærds sidste Boble. Hu- u- ud! fare hen! - Og jeg foer fra Guldmagerens Gaard.
It was late in the year when the days in the north are short and the fogs, like a wet dishrag, wipe the landscape. That is a good time for house cleaning. I blew the clouds out of the sky and the rotten branches and twigs off the trees; it is the kind of work that has to be done every once in a while. Borreby Castle was also being swept, but in another manner. Valdemar Daae's enemy, Ove Ramel, had bought the mortgages and now he owned the castle and everything that was in it. I beat on the cracked windows like drumsticks on a drum, and I banged the latchless doors and whirled myself through cracks and crevices. I would teach Master Ove how pleasant it was to live in Borreby. Ida and Anna Dorthea wept, but Johanne was pale and bit her thumb so hard that it bled. But neither weeping nor biting one's thumb was of any help. Master Ove Ramel said that Master Daae could stay as long as he lived in the castle, but he got no thanks for this offer. I listened and heard it all! And I saw proud Valdemar Dam toss his head in scorn as he refused. I gathered strength and hit the old elm tree in the yard so hard that its biggest branch broke off; and that though there wasn't a bit of rot in it. It fell right in front of the entrance and lay there like a big broom ready to do the sweeping. And Borreby Castle was swept. Oh yes! I saw it all! Seent paa Aaret, i de korte Dage heroppe, naar Taagen kommer med sin Viskeklud og vrider vaade Draaber paa de røde Bær og de bladløse Grene, kom jeg i frisk Humeur, luftede op, blæste Himlen reen og knækkede raadne Grene, og det er intet stort Arbeide, men det skal gjøres. Der blev ogsaa feiet reent paa anden Maade inde i Borreby Gaard hos Valdemar Daae. Hans Uven Ove Ramel fra Basnæs var der med tilkjøbt Gjeldsbrev over Gaard og Indbo. Jeg trommede paa de sprukne Ruder, slog med de forfaldne Døre, peb igjennem Revner og Sprækker: hu- i! - Hr. Ove skulde ikke faae Lysten efter at blive der. Ide og Anna Dorthea græd modige Taarer; Johanne stod strunk og bleg, bed sig i Tommelfingeren saa at den blødte derved, det skulde stort hjelpe! Ove Ramel forundte Hr. Daae at blive paa Gaarden sin Livstid, men han fik ikke Tak for Tilbud; jeg lyttede derefter; - jeg saae den gaardløse Herre løfte sit Hoved stoltere, slaae med Nakken, og jeg slog et Tag imod Gaarden og de gamle Lindetræer, saa at den tykkeste Green knak, og den var ikke raadden; den laae for Porten, som en Feiekost, dersom Nogen vilde feie ud, og der blev feiet ud; jeg tænkte det nok!
It was a hard day, a long day; but Valdemar Dam was stiff-necked; he could be neither bent nor broken! Det var en haard Dag, en stiv Stund at holde sig i, men Sindet var haardt, Nakken var stiv.
They owned nothing now but the clothes on their backs and a new glass beaker in which the alchemist had carefully gathered every bit that could be scraped from the floor of what had been spilled there on that Easter Day when he thought he had found gold. Valdemar Daae carried the beaker under his cloak, next to his breast. In his other hand he had a staff, as he walked with his daughters out of Borreby Castle, never to return. I blew cold air on his burning cheeks, I patted his white hair and long beard and sang loudly so that they could hear it. Whooo, whooo! . . . All will pass. . . . Whoo, whooo! Intet havde de i Eie uden Klæderne paa Kroppen; jo det alchymistiske Glas, som nyligt var kjøbt og fyldt med det Spild, som var skrabet op fra Gulvet; Skatten, der lovede, men ikke holdt. Valdemar Daae gjemte det inde paa sit Bryst, tog saa sin Kjep i Haanden, og den eengang rige Herre gik med sine tre Døttre ud fra Borreby Gaard. Jeg blæste koldt paa hans hede Kinder, jeg klappede hans graa Skjæg og hans lange, hvide Haar, jeg sang, som jeg kunde det: hu- u- ud! fare hen! fare hen! - Det var Enden paa den rige Herlighed.
Ida and Anna Dorthea walked beside him; Johanne lingered a moment in the gateway, turned and looked back; but that did not help, luck and good fortune would never turn to come back to them. She glanced at the red bricks of the castle wall. Once they had been part of Marsk Stig's castle; that mighty man the king had broken; and his daughters, too, had been left to fend for themselves. Did Johanne at that moment recall the lines from the folk song about Marsk Stig's daughters? Ide og Anna Dorthea gik hver ved hans Side; Johanne vendte sig i Porten, hvad skulde det til, Lykken vilde dog ikke vende sig. Hun saae paa Murens røde Steen fra Marsk Stigs Borg, tænkte hun paa hans Døttre:

'The older took the younger by the hand And out in the wide world they walked!'

'Den ældste tog den yngste ved Hand, Og de fore vide om Verden!'

But Johanne and her sisters were not two; they were three--or four, if you counted their father. Along the same road that they so of ten had driven on in their carriage, they walked now like beggars. At Smidstrup Fields stood a humble peasant cottage. This they had rented for ten marks silver a year and that was to be their 'castle.' Empty was every room and bare their larder. The crows and the jackdaws followed them screaming and mocking them, 'Craw! craw! Now your nest is gone. Craw! Craw!' They remembered when Valdemar Daae had cut down the oaks of Borreby and made so many birds homeless. tænkte hun paa den Sang,; - her vare de tre, - Faderen var med! - De gik hen af Veien, hvor de havde kjørt i Karreet, de gik Stoddergang med Faderen, til Smidstrup Mark, til det klinede Huus, der var leiet for ti Mark aarlig, det nye Herresæde med tomme Vægge og tomme Kar. Krager og Alliker fløi henover dem og skrege, som i Spot: 'fra Reden! fra Reden! fra! fra!' som Fuglene skreg det i Borreby Skov, da Træerne bleve fældede.
Whether in their misery they could have understood the crows, I do not know. I whistled past their ears so that they need not listen to what the foolish birds were screaming. Hr. Daae og hans Døttre fornam det vel! jeg blæste dem om Ørerne, det var ikke værd at høre derpaa.
They moved into the little house, whose walls were made from mud, not stones. I flew away across the fields and through the naked forest, to the open sea. I wanted to visit foreign lands. Whooo . . . whooo . . All will pass. . . . Whoo . . . whoo! That truth the years can't change . . . whoo!" Saa drog de ind i det klinede Huus paa Smidstrup Mark, og jeg foer afsted over Mose og Mark, gjennem nøgne Hækker og afpillede Skove, til aabne Vande, andre Lande, - hu- u- ud! fare hen! fare hen! og det i alle Aaringer!"
How did Valdemar Daae fare and what happened to his daughters? The wind will tell us. Hvor gik det Valdemar Daae, hvor gik det hans Døttre? Vinden fortæller:
I saw Anna Dorthea, the pale hyacinth, for the last time about fifty years after they had left the castle. She was an old woman then, bent and broken, yet she remembered everything that had happened. "Den Sidste af dem jeg saae, ja sidste Gang, det var Anna Dorthea, den blege Hyazint, - nu var hun gammel og bøiet, det var et halvt hundrede Aar derefter. Hun levede længst, hun vidste om det Hele.
"On the edge of the great heath, near the town of Viborg in Jutland, a new and splendid house had been built as residence for the archdeacon. It was made of red bricks and had corbie gables. The smoke poured from the kitchen chimney, telling what a good table was kept here. The archdeacon's wife was sitting before the bay window together with her daughters. They were looking out over the hawthorn trees toward the yellow heath. What were they looking for? They were watching the storks hover over their nest, which they had built on the roof of the ruins of a cottage. The straw roof was overgrown with moss and had several big holes in it; the part that gave the best protection against the weather was the one that the stork's nest covered, for the nest was in fine condition, the storks saw to that. Derovre paa Heden, ved Viborg By, laae Domprovstens nye, stadselige Gaard, med røde Steen og med takket Gavl; Røgen kom feed op af Skorstenen. Den milde Frue og de favre Døttre sad i Karnappen og saae ud over Havens hængende Bukketjørn, ud til den brune Hede-! hvad saae de der efter? De saae efter Storkereden derude paa det faldefærdige Huus. Taget var med Mos og Huusløg, for saa vidt at der var Tag, det som meest dækkede var Storkens Rede, og den var den eneste, der blev hjulpen paa, Storken holdt den istand.
It was the kind of hut that it was safer to look at than to touch. I had to be gentle when I was near it," declared the wind. "The house was considered an eyesore by everyone, and the archdeacon would have had it torn down if it hadn't been for the storks. Because of those birds and their nest it was allowed to stand; and the wretched old woman who lived in it could stay. She owed her home to the Egyptian bird. Maybe it was a kind of justice, because she once had begged that the nest of the wild black stork in Borreby forest should be spared. Yes, it was she, the pale hyacinth from the aristocratic garden. She remembered all that had happened. Poor Anna Dorthea. She sighed, for human beings can sigh as I do when I blow gently through the reeds that grow around the lake. Det var et Huus at see paa, ikke at røre! jeg maatte fare varligt!" sagde Vinden. "For Storkeredens Skyld fik Huset Lov at staae, det var jo ellers en Skræmsel paa Heden. Storken vilde Domprovstens ikke jage bort, saa havde Rønnen Lov at blive og Stakkelen derinde kunde have Lov at boe der; det kunde hun takke den ægyptiske Fugl for, - eller var det Tak, fordi hun engang bad for hans sorte vilde Broders Rede i Borreby Skov? Da var hun, Stakkelen, et ungt Barn, en fiin, bleg Hyazint i den adelige Urtegaard. Hun huskede det Altsammen: Anna Dorthea.
'0h!' whispered Anna Dorthea. 'No bells rang when you died, Valdemar Daae. No poor school children sang while they carried the former master of Borreby to his grave! . . . Oh, oh, all things must end, misery and sorrow also pass. My sister Ida married a serf. My father took that hard: his daughter married to an unfree man, a slave who had to obey his master. Father is dead and so is Ida, both rest now under the earth. Oh yes, oh yes. But for me, poor wretched thing, everything is not yet over. Oh, Christ, you who are so rich, give me peace. Let me die.' '0! o!' - ja, Menneskene kunne sukke, som Vinden kan det i Siv og Rør. '0! - der ringede ingen Klokker over din Grav, Valdemar Daae! de fattige Skoledrenge sang ikke, da Borrebys fordums Herre blev lagt i Jorden! - 0! Alt faaer dog Ende, ogsaa Elende! - Søster Ide blev en Bondes Viv! det var vor Fader den haardeste Prøvelse! Datters Mand, en usselig Træl, der af Herremanden kunde sættes til at ride paa den haarde Fjæl! - Nu er han vel under Jorden? og Du med? Idel - 0 ja! o ja! det er ikke forbi endda, jeg gamle Stakkel! jeg fattige Stakkel! løs op for mig, rige Christ!'
That was Anna Dorthea's prayer as she lay sick and old on her bed in the little hut that was allowed to stand for the sake of the stork's nest. Det var Anna Dortheas Bøn i det ynkelige Huus, der havde Lov at staae for Storkens Skyld.
The bravest of the sisters I took care of myself," declared the wind. "She got her clothes cut to fit her nature and took hire on board a ship. Tight-lipped she was and sour, although willing enough to do her work. But she couldn't climb the rigging. I blew her overboard, before anyone found out she was a woman. I think I did well. Den Raskeste af Søstrene tog jeg mig af!" sagde Vinden, "hun fik sig Klæder skaaret, som hun var i Sindet baaret! hun kom som fattig Karl og tog Hyre hos Skipperen; knap var hun paa Ord, tvær af Mine, men villig til sin Dont; dog klattre kunde hun ikke; - saa blæste jeg hende overbord, før Nogen vidste, at hun var et Qvindfolk, og det var nok vel gjort af mig!" sagde Vinden.
It was on Easter morning that Valdemar Daae thought he had discovered the secret of making gold, and it was on Easter morning that Anna Dorthea died. I heard her singing the last hymn she was ever to sing. "Det var en Paaskemorgen, som da Valdemar Daae troede, at han fandt det røde Guld, da hørte jeg under Storkens Rede, mellem de skrøbelige Vægge, Psalmesang, Anna Dortheas sidste Sang.
There was no windowpane or window in her hut, just a hole in the wall. The sun rose and filled that hole like a great lump of gold. What splendor and brilliance! Her eyes grew blind and her heart stopped just at that moment. But that they would have done even if it had been a cloudy day and the sun had not shone on her. Der var ingen Rude, der var kun et Hul i Væggen; - Solen kom, som en Guldklump, og satte sig deri; det var en Glands! hendes Øine brast, hendes Hjerte brast! det havde de gjort alligevel, om Solen ikke den Morgen havde skinnet paa hende.
The stork had given her a roof over her head until she died, and I sang at her grave. I had sung at her father's grave, too; I know where both the graves are and that is more than anyone else does. Storken gav hende Tag over sig til hendes Død! jeg sang ved hendes Grav!" sagde Vinden, "jeg sang ved hendes Faders Grav, jeg veed, hvor den er og hvor hendes Grav er, det veed ellers Ingen!
A new age, a time of change, has come. Old roads are overgrown with weeds and new ones cross old graves. Soon the steam engine, with its endless row of cars, will rush ahead over tombs and graves of people whose names are forgotten. Whoo! All will pass. . . . Whoo! Nye Tider, andre Tider! gammel Alfarvei gaaer op i lukket Mark, fredede Grave blive færdet Landevei, - og snart kommer Dampen med sin Vognrække og bruser hen over Gravene, glemte som Navnene, huu- ud! fare hen!
That is the story of Valdemar Daae and his daughters. Let others tell it better if they can!" said the wind, turned, Det er Historien om Valdemar Daae og hans Døttre. Fortæl den bedre, I Andre! om I kunne det!" sagde Vinden og vendte sig.
and was gone. Væk var den.

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