Hans Christian Andersen: 'New Year Poem' (1862)

 

Nytårsdigt 1862

 

Igjen et Aar udfolder sine Vinger,

Det flyver frem med Morgenrødens Glands;

Igjen vi spørge: hvad mon Aaret bringer?

Hvor falder Sørgeflor, hvor Brudekrands?

 

Skal Krigsråb eller Fredens Hymne lyde?

Hvad meisler det i Verdens Marmorblok?

Hvad vil det reise og hvad vil det bryde?

Far hen hver Frygt! Vorherre hjelper nok.

 

Han er i gode og tunge Dage

Det hjerte, vi os trygt tør hælde til;

Igjennem Mulmet vi Klarhed drage;

Vort Liv er ei Tilfældighedens Spil!

 

Aftrykt i Illustreret Tidende 29/12 1861.

 

 

New Year Poem 1862

 

Once more a year its wings is now outspreading,

Is flying forward with dawn’s gleaming light.

Once more we ask: what lies where we are heading?

Where are black veils or bride’s bouquets in sight?

 

Will war cries or a hymn of peace be sounding?

What will on world’s hewn marble be engraved?

What will be raised, what find its final grounding?

Begone, all fear! Our Lord will have us saved.

 

He is, when days are light or dark and dreary,

The heart on which we full of trust dare lean;

Through murky mist we get to see quite clearly

Our life on earth mere chance has never been!

 

Printed in Illustreret Tidende 29/12 1861