Commemorative tablet in Odense Cathedral |
Til Hr. Nic. Fred. Sev. Grundtvig
Kronprinsessegaden no. 402
Kjøbenhavn
Min Herre
Stolende paa Deres Godhed skriver jeg Dem til. - Hr. Professor Guldberg glæder mig med at sikkert enhver vil bidrage lidet til min Lykke, da jeg skal besidde Talent. - Jeg sender Dem derfor et lille Digt, som jeg har vovet at forfatte. De vil undskylde mig da jeg ikkun er ca 15½ Aar.
Hans Christian Andersen.
Kunstens Tempel seer jeg i det Fjerne
mellem Klipper midt i Bølgens Skjød
did er det jeg iler, o! saa gjerne
at jeg glemmer Skibbrud og hver Nød.
Ei mig skrækker disse Vrag jeg skuer
dem den vilde Bølge leger med
thi alt længe i mit Hjærte luer
Haabet om at naae hin kjære Bred.
Lad og Mangen strande paa dens Klipper
Andre synke skuffede af Haab
i mit Hjærte denne Trøst ei glipper
at og Mangen bønhørt saa sit Raab.
Naar jeg Breden, fast ved Klippen tager
ud igjen mig aldrig Bølgen slaaer
heller ei dens hvide Skum bedrager
saa jeg troer, jeg fast paa Landet staaer. -
Jeg de bratte Klipper vil bestige,
ser jeg da Thalias Tempel nær
Ingen er da, selv blant 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.
Oktober 1820
To Nic. Fred. Sev. Grundtvig, Esq.
Kronprinsessegaden no. 402
Copenhagen
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
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.
October 1820
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