The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

It Is Perfectly True! - Det er ganske vist!

1855

"It is a monstrous story!" said a hen. She lived in a part of the town far away from where the event had taken place. "It is a horrible story and it has happened in a henhouse. I am glad that I am not sleeping alone on the perch tonight. I would not dare close my eyes!" And then she told the story. The other hens were so shocked that their feathers stood up, and the rooster's comb fell down. It is perfectly true! "Det er en frygtelig Historie!" sagde en Høne, og det omme i den Kant af Byen, hvor Historien ikke var passeret. "Det er en frygtelig Historie i Hønsehuset! jeg tør ikke sove alene inat! det er godt at vi ere Mange sammen paa Hjalet!" - Og saa fortalte hun, saa at Fjedrene reiste sig paa de andre Høns og Hanen lod Kammen falde. Det er ganske vist!
But we will start at the beginning and that took place in another comer of the town in a henhouse. The sun had just set and all the hens had flown up on their roost. Among them was a white-feathered hen with stumpy legs; she laid an egg every day and was very respectable. Now as she sat down on her perch she picked at her feathers a bit, and one little feather fell out. Men vi ville begynde med Begyndelsen, og den var i den anden Kant af Byen i et Hønsehuus. Solen gik ned og Hønsene fløi op; een af dem, hun var hvidfjedret og lavbenet, lagde sine reglementerede Æg og var, som Høne, respectabel i alle Maader; idet hun kom til Hjals, pillede hun sig med Næbet, og saa faldt der en lille Fjeder af hende.
"There it went," she said. "The more I pick myself, the more beautiful I will become." This was said for fun, for she was a cheerful soul, though otherwise-- as I have already said-- very respectable. "Der gik den!" sagde hun, "jo mere jeg piller mig, desdeiligere bliver jeg nok!" Og det var nu sagt i Munterhed, for hun var det muntre Sind mellem de Høns, iøvrigt, som sagt, meget respectabel; og saa sov hun.
It was dark on the perch; the hens sat roosting side by side, but the hen that sat nearest to the one who had lost a feather wasn't asleep. She had heard what had been said and she hadn't; and that is a very wise thing to do if you want to live in peace with your neighbors. But still she could not help telling the hen next to her what she had heard."Did you hear what was said? I won't mention names, but there is a hen among us who is going to pluck her feathers off just to look more attractive. If I were a rooster I would despise her!" Mørkt var det rundtom, Høne sad ved Høne og den, som sad hende nærmest, sov ikke; hun hørte og hun ikke hørte, som man jo skal i denne Verden, for at leve i sin gode Rolighed; men sin anden Naboerske maatte hun dog sige det: "hørte Du hvad her blev sagt? Jeg nævner Ingen, men der er en Høne, som vil plukke sig, for at see godt ud! var jeg Hane, jeg vilde foragte hende!"
Right above the henhouse lived an owl family; and they have sharp ears. They heard every word that the hen had said and the mother owl rolled her eyes and beat her wings. "Don't listen, but I suppose you couldn't help but hear it. I heard it with my own ears and one has to hear a lot before they fall off. There is one of the them in the henhouse that has so forgotten all decency and propriety that she is sitting on the perch and picking off all her feathers, while the rooster is looking at her." Og lige ovenover Hønsene sad Uglen med Ugle-Mand og Ugle-Børn; de have skarpe Ører i den Familie, de hørte hvert Ord, som Nabohønen sagde, og de rullede med Øinene og UgleMoer viftede sig med Vingerne: "Hør bare ikke efter! men I hørte sagtens hvad der blev sagt? Jeg hørte det med mine egne Ører, og man skal høre meget før de falde af! Der er een af Hønsene, som i den Grad har glemt, hvad der skikker sig en Høne, at hun sidder og piller alle Fjedrene af sig og lader Hanen see paa det!"
"Prenez garde aux enfants!" said the father owl. "It is not fit for the children to hear!" "Prenez garde aux enfants!" sagde Ugle-Fader, "det er ikke Noget for Børnene!"
"But I will tell our neighbor about it," said the mother. "She is such a courteous owl. I hold her in the highest esteem." And away she flew. "Jeg vil dog fortælle Gjenbo-Ugle det! det er saadan en agtværdig Ugle i Omgang!" og saa fløi Mutter.
"Tu-whit! Tu-whoo!" both the owls hooted, and so loudly that the pigeons could not help hearing it. "Have you heard, have you heard! Tu-whoo! There is a hen that has plucked all her feathers off for the rooster's sake. She will freeze to death, if she hasn't already, tuwhoo!" "Hu-hu! uhuh!" tudede de begge to og det lige ned i Gjenboens Dueslag til Duerne. "Har I hørt det! har I hørt det! uhuh! der er en Høne, som har plukket alle Fjedrene af sig for Hanens Skyld! hun fryser ihjel, om hun ikke er det, uhuh!"
"Where? Where?" cooed the pigeons. "Hvor? Hvor?" kurrede Duerne!
"In the neighboring yard! I have almost seen it with my own eyes. It is a most indecent story, but it is perfectly true." "I Gjenboens Gaard! jeg har saa godt som selv seet det! det er næsten en upassende Historie at fortælle! men det er ganske vist!"
"True, true, every word," cooed the pigeons, and repeated the story in their own henhouse. "There is a hen--some say that there are two-- that have plucked all their feathers off in order to look different and in that way gain the attention of the rooster. They have played a dangerous game, for one can catch a cold that way and die of fever; and they are dead, both of them!" "Troer, troer hvert evige Ord!" sagde Duerne, og kurrede ned til deres Hønsegaard: "der er en Høne, ja der er somme der sige, at der er to, som have plukket alle Fjedrene af sig, for ikke at see ud som de andre og saaledes vække Hanens Opmærksomhed. Det er et voveligt Spil, man kan forkjøle sig og døe af Feber, og de ere døde begge to!"
"Wake up! Wake up!" crowed the cock, and flew up on the fence. Sleep was still in his eyes, but he crowed anyway. "Three hens have died of unrequited love for a rooster! They have plucked all their feathers off. It is a nasty story. I won't keep it, pass it on!" "Vaagn op! vaagn op!" galede Hanen og fløi op paa Plankeværket, Søvnen sad ham endnu i Øinene, men han galede alligevel: "Der er tre Høns døde af ulykkelig Kjærlighed til en Hane! de havde plukket alle Fjedrene af sig! det er en fæl Historie, jeg vil ikke beholde den, lad gaae videre!"
"Pass it on, pass it on," piped the bats. And the hens clucked and the roosters crowed: "Pass it on, pass it on." And in this manner the story went from henhouse to henhouse until it arrived back at the very place where it had started. "Lad gaae videre!" peeb Flagermusene, og Hønsene klukkede og Hanerne galede: "lad gaae videre! lad gaae videre!" og saa foer Historien fra Hønsehuus til Hønsehuus og tilsidst tilbage til Stedet, hvorfra den egentlig var gaaet ud.
"There are five hens, so it is said, that have all plucked their feathers off to prove which one of them had become thinnest because of unhappy love for the rooster. Then they pecked each other until blood flowed and they all fell down dead! It's a shame for their families and a great loss to their owner." "Der er fem Høns," hed det, "som alle have plukket Fjedrene af sig, for at vise, hvem af dem der var blevet magrest af Kjærestesorg til Hanen, og saa hakkede de hinanden tilblods og faldt døde ned, til Skam og Skjændsel for deres Familie og til stort Tab for Eieren!"
The hen who had lost the first little feather naturally did not recognize the story; and as she was a decent and respectable hen, she said, "I despise those hens! But there are more of that kind! Such things must not be kept secret! I will do whatever I can to have it printed in the newspaper, then the whole country will hear about it. And that is what those hens and their families deserve." Og Hønen, som havde mistet den løse lille Fjeder, kjendte naturligviis ikke sin egen Historie igjen, og da hun var en respectabel Høne, saa sagde hun: "Jeg foragter de Høns! men der er flere af den Slags! Sligt skal man ikke fortie, og jeg vil gjøre mit til, at den Historie kan komme i Avisen, saa gaaer den Landet over; det har de Høns fortjent og Familien med!"
And it was published in the newspaper and it is perfectly true that one little feather can become five hens! Og det kom i Avisen og det blev trykt og det er ganske vist: en lille Fjeder kan nok blive til fem Høns!

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