Epilog, fremsagt ved Aftenunderholdning
den 11. Februar 1838 til Fordeel for
Stiftelsen til Blindes Dannelse
Jeg veed om Farverne, de ere skjønne,
Som Tonerne de vexle skal i Pragt;
Men om den grønne Skov, om alt det Grønne,
Har Duften ene et Begreb mig bragt.
Blaat er jo Havet, naar ei Bølger stige,
Og Himlens Farve nævne de som blaa,
En Blaahed eier det Uendelige,
Jeg aner det, skjøndt jeg det aldrig saae.
I Solens Opgang pranger jo det Røde,
Den Blinde kjender ei sligt Farvespil,
Men Livets Straaler følte jeg at gløde,
Og jeg begreb, at der var Skjønhed til.
O, hvilken Trøst i Livets Sorg og Møie,
At kunne Gud i Alt omkring sig see,
At læse Tanken i sin Broders Øie,
See i hvert Træk, han føler ved vor Vee!
Een Farve kun der er den Blinde kjender,
Een Farve, viet Livets Sorg og Nød,
Den boer i Natten, naar ei Stjernen Brænder,
Den er et Billede paa Grav og Død:
Den sorte Farve kjendes af den Blinde,
Rundt om mig hersker altid der kun Nat,
Dog i det Sorte selv lod Gud os finde
En Sjæle-Duft: Du er ei her forladt.
Den mørke Farve, som mit Blik omtaager,
Har just en Duft, den største Hjertet veed:
Jeg veed, at Naadens milde Fader vaager,
Den Blinde fandt et Hjem og Kjærlighed.
En Verden mørk, Du skal dog Veien finde,
En kjærlig Gud det Bedste vil skal skee,
I Døden svinder Mørket for den Blinde,
Der skal jeg Gud og hver Velgjører see!
Epilogue, recited at evening entertainment
given on 11 February 1838 for the benefit of
The Foundation for the Education of the Blind
Of colours’ beauty I have some awareness,
Like tones, they all in splendour alternate;
But of the woods so green, with all their greenness,
Their scent has brought me but a single trait.
The sea is blue unless its waves are listless,
The colour of the sky is named as blue,
Infinity is said to have great blueness,
Although not seen, I sense this must be true.
The sun’s red splendour dominates when rising,
If blind one can’t perceive this colour play,
But life’s rays I could feel as something glowing
And knew that there was beauty in each ray.
And oh! What comfort in life’s tribulations
When everything around one God can show,
Read in one’s brother’s eye each thought and notion,
See in each gesture he divines our woe!
If blind there’s but one colour made for learning
One that’s reserved for life’s pain and distress,
It dwells in night’s realm when no star is burning,
And is an image of both grave and death:
To one who’s blind, it’s a familiar colour,
Around me night’s the only ruler known,
But in the blackness God lets us discover
A scent of Soul: You’re not all on your own.
This deep, dark colour that so veils my gazing
Has quite the strongest scent the heart can feel:
Watched over by a Father’s grace amazing,
The blind have found a love and home most real.
A dark world, but the path shown to the seeker,
God ordering the best so lovingly;
The blind will find in death the dark grows weaker,
There God, each benefactor too, I’ll see!
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