 |
| Councillor of State Jonas Collin |
Til Hr. Etasraad Kolin
paa min 16 Aars Fødselsdag den 2den April 1821
Kunstens Tempel ser jeg i det fjerne
mellem Klipper midt i Havets Skjød
did det er jeg iler, o! saa gjerne
at jeg glemmer Skibbrud og hver Nød.
Ej mig skrækker disse Vrag jeg skuer
dem den vilde Bølge leger med
thi alt længe i mit Hjerte luer
Haabet om at naa hin kjære Bred.
Lad og Mangen strande paa dens Klipper
andre synke skuffede af Haab
i mit Hjerte, dog den Trøst ei glipper
at og Mangen bønhørt ser sit Raab.
Naaer jeg Breden, jeg ved Klippen tager
ud igjen mig aldrig Bølgen slaaer
heller ej dens hvide Skum bedrager
saa jeg tror, alt fast paa Landet staaer. -
Jeg de bratte Klipper vil bestige,
ser jeg da Thalias Tempel nær
Ingen er da, selv blandt lykkelige
lykkelig som jeg, nei! Ingen meer,
hvis i Helligdommen dybt at trænge
naadeligt Gudinden under mig
har thi saligt jeg jo levet længe
om end snart mit Livslys slukker sig.
Tilgiv jeg bruger Sanggudindens Griffel
og maler mine Tanker, Følelser. -
I Dag for 16 Aar gav Gud mit Livet
i Odins stille Bye - Jeg blev en ringe Blomst
i Livets store Hauge, hvis skjøre Stilk
tidt Stormen vilde knuse, den truedes med Fald.
I Konstens Blomster Bed at prange ei
den kunde. - Men dog en Plads den ønskede
maaske med Konst og hvad Naturen gav
en Gang i Tiden, den vel kunde fryde. -
Af venlig Haand den passedes og snart
den spirede med meere livligt Farve,
En Guldberg var den vennehulde Gartner
som pleiede, og klippet Blomsten har. -
Og sikkert naaer en Lingreen nu tillige
saa vennehuld, som hiin, opelsket
til næste Sommer der i Kunstens Hauge
forundes kan en Plads i blandt de simple.
To Councillor Kolin, Esq.
on my 16th birthday, 2 April 1821
I can see art’s temple in the distance
midst the rocks in wave’s profound embrace
I set out there, such is my insistence
harm and shipwreck I forget to face.
I fear not the wrecks that I am sighting
those the foaming waves have as their prey
for long since my heart’s burns with delight in
hope of reaching that dear shore one day.
So let many on its cruel rocks founder
others sink from hopes that broke in twain,
in my heart this comfort grows yet sounder:
Many others’ cries were not in vain.
When close by the rock the sands receive me,
there’s no wave can turn my feet around
neither does its white-topped foam deceive me
so I think I’m standing on firm ground. –
When the steep rocks I have climbed up fully
Thalia’s temple close at hand I see,
No one, even those most happy, could be
Happier than I. No! None but me;
Should the gracious goddess gratify me,
grant me access to her inner shrine,
I’d have lived a long time blessed entirely
though few days of life’s light were still mine.
Forgive my use of the song muse’s pen
to paint each keen emotion, every thought. –
Sixteen years past today God gave me life
in Odin’s quiet town. – I was a meagre flower
in Life’s great garden, one whose fragile stem
the storm would often crush and cause to fall.
To thrive in art’s fair bed of flowers it was
not able. – Yet a place it dearly wished for
perhaps with art and that which nature gave
as time passed by it might well come to flourish. –
It was well cared for by a friendly hand
and soon it gained a much more healthy colour.
A certain Guldberg was its caring gardener
who tended and who pruned it into flower. –
And surely will a Lingreen also now
as did the former caringly ensure
that it next summer maybe in Art’s garden
can gain among the lowly its own place.
For an earlier, shorter version to Grundtvig, see
The introduction to Grundtvig is as follows in English:
Dear Sir,
Trusting in your kindness, I write to you. – Professor Guldberg encourages me by assuring me anyone would willingly contribute slightly to my happiness, since he says that I possess talent. – I am therefore sending you a little poem that I have dared to compose. I hope you will excuse me, for I am only 15½ years old.
Hans Christian Andersen
To Nic. Fred. Sev. Grundtvig, Esq.
Kronprinsessegaden no. 402 Copenhagen
No comments:
Post a Comment