Hans Christian Andersen: 'Længsel med Potterne'

 

Længsel med Potterne.

 

“Lad Fovlen flyv’ 

Lad Taagen dryv“ –

           Sallingboe Hyrdesang

 

Hist hvor man kun seer Lyngen groe,

Der laves Jydepotter jo!

Der laves store, laves smaa,

Paa Vognen snart de pakked’ staae,

Og see, med Potter rigt begavet,

Den reiser langveis over Havet.

 

Ak see, nu kjører den afsted!

Og Pottefaderen er med;

Hans lille Dreng ved Døren staaer,

Med nødbrun Kind og gule Haar,

Han seer paa Vognen, som nu kjører,

Og sært det i hans Bryst sig rører.

 

Han føler, nei, han veed ei hvad!

Med Potterne han reise gad,

At see Soldater, Skov og By,

Med Kirketaarne høit mod Sky;

Ja Havet med de stærke Strømme,

Og Alt, hvad han kun saae i Drømme.

 

 

Longing with the pots

 

‘Let birds now fly,

Let mists drift by’ –

           Sallingbo Shepherd’s song

 

There from where heather’s everywhere,

Comes all the black pot earthenware!

Both large and small pots, finely blacked

Up on the wagon soon are stacked,

And look, the full load sets in motion,

It’s off to journey o’er the ocean.

 

Oh look, it soon will fade from view!

The potter’s seated up there too;

His young boy from the door just stares,

With nutbrown-cheeks and bright blond hair,

Sees the wagon that’s now leaving,

Feels his breast so strangely heaving.

 

Just what he feels he does not know!

He gladly with the pots would go

To gaze at soldiers, woods and towns

With soaring church towers as their crowns;

The sea, with its strong currents streaming,

And all he’s only seen when dreaming.