Monday 22 April 2024

Hans Christian Andersen: 'Dødsøieblikket' (1829)

 


Dødsøieblikket

 

Wenn die unbekannte Hand den letzten Pfeil an das Haupt des Menschen sendet, so bückt er vorher das Haupt, und der Pfeil hebt bloß die Dornenkrone von Seinen Wunden ab.

Jean Paul. (Hesperus, 1795)

 

Hvad er det dog, som lyser? Det luttres for min Sands;

Jeg føler Øiet briste i denne Straaleglands.

Mit Hoved mat sig bøier for Kraften i min Aand,

Og mildt om Hjertet løsne sig alle snevre Baand.

I Døden faae vi Vinger, det troe vi jo som Smaa,

Ja Aanden den faaer Vinger, som Tankens overgaae!

 

I Stjernernes Systemer, i Midet paa vor Jord,

Jeg seer en Guddoms Fylde hvortil jeg ei har Ord.

En Evighed jeg skuer i Alt, selv i mit Bryst,

Og alle Taager synke bag Jordens kjendte Kyst.

I mine Brødres Hjerter nu først jeg læser ret,

Vel er’ vi alle Svage, men Ingen ganske slet.

 

O kunde vi herneden saa klart i Andre see,

Som i vort eget Indre, vi gjorde dem ei Vee.

I hver jeg mig gjenkjender, i Store, som i Smaa,

O, skal vi da i Døden hinanden først forstaae?

Jeg er saa let, saa salig, saa luttret i min Tro,

Jeg føler Kamp og Stræben, og dog en himmelsk Ro!

 

 

The moment of death

 

When the unknown hand shoots the last arrow at the person’s head, he bends his head forwards, and the arrow only lifts the crown of thorns off his wounds.

Jean Paul

 

What is it shines so strongly? My mind is purified;

I feel my eyes are breaking now its strong rays preside.

My weary head bends forwards caught by my spirit’s might

And gently my heart loosens the bonds that hold it tight.

In death we all gain wings and this children know full well,

The spirit gains wings also, which those of thought excel!

 

In stellar constellations, in dust mites here on earth,

I see divine abundance for which I have no words.

In all things gaze for ages, in my own breast the most,

And all mists sink down slowly behind earth’s well-known coast.

The hearts of fellow humans first now come into sight,

For though we all are weaklings, no one is bad outright.

 

Oh could we see in in others as clearly as we view

Our inner selves, our blind urge to hurt them we’d subdue.

I see myself in others, in those both great and small,

Oh, must death first take place ere we understand it all?

I am so light, by faith have been purified and blessed,

Prepared to fight and struggle, though full of heav’nly rest!


To see a German translation of this poem, go to here.

 

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