| 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. |
|