Mørket
Efter Byrons: ’Darkness’
Jeg drømte - dog en Drøm var det ei ganske!
Udslukt var Solens Glands, og Stjernerne
Gik uden Straaler, uden fastsat Vei
I Mørket i det grændseløse Rum,
Hvor Jorden, som en død og sortgraa Klump
Hang i en Luft, hvor ingen Maane lyste.
Og Morgenstunden kom, gik – kom, men uden Dag.
I denne Jammer glemte Mennesket
Hver Lidenskab, og hvert et Hjerte bad
Allene kun om Eet: om Lyset atter.
Man levede ved tændte Blus – og Throner,
Selv Fyrsternes Paladser, Hytterne,
Hvert lille Skuur, hvor Dyrene fandt Ly,
I Flammer lyste; Byerne blev’ Aske,
Men mens de brændte stod man rundt omkring,
For dog endnu engang at see hinanden.
Man tændte Skovene – men Stund for Stund
De styrtede og svandt – og Stammerne
I Gnister slukkedes – og Alt var sort.
Paa Mandens Pande, hvor hiint Rædselsblus
Som Lynglimt zittred’, læste man kun Rædsel. –
En Deel laae tause, skjulte deres Ansigt
Og græd – en Deel krampagtigt knytted’ Haanden,
Og hviled’ Kinden paa den mens de loe;
Her sværmed nogle om og nærede,
Med hvad de fandt, de sidste Flammebaal,
Vanvittig’ saae de til den mørke Himmel,
Liiglagnet for en uddød Verden her,
Og kasted’ sig igjen i Støvet, bandte
Og hylede i deres Tænders Gnidsel.
Rovfugle skreg’ og flagred’, slog’ med Vingen;
De vilde Dyr kom bævende og tamme,
Og Slangerne i Hobe samled’ sig,
Kom, hvislede, men uden Braad og Gift.
Man dræbte dem til Spise. Snart igjen
Brød Krigen ud, der for en Stund var ophørt;
Sin Føde kjøbte man for Blod, og hver,
Imens han mætted’ sig, sad mørk og harmfuld,
Der var ei Kjærlighed; een Tanke kun
Beherskede den hele Jord og den var: »Død«,
Død uden Hæder. Hung’ens vilde Qval
Aad Alles Indre; Menneskene døde;
Ujordet henlaae deres Kjød og Been;
Den Magre blev et Bytte for den Magre,
Og Hunde anfaldt’ deres egne Herrer;
Kun een blev troe et Liig og afholdt Fugle
Og Dyr og Mennesker fra dette ene,
Til Hungeren afkræftede den selv
Og Liget blev et Aadsel. Dog endnu
Den Intet aad, men under dybe Hyl
Og Jammersskrig den slikkede den Haand,
Der ei gjengjældede med Klap – og døde.
Snart dræbte Hung’ren alle. Ikkun to,
Fra een og samme mægtig Stad, var’ til;
Men de var’ Fjender. Begge traf hinanden
Ved Al’trets halvudslukte Kul,
Hvor det Indviede var til vanhellig Brug
Lagt i en Hob. De greb’ deri;
De nøgne, knokkelmagre, tunge Hænder
Med Zittren rørte kraftesløse i
Den tynde Aske, deres svage Aande
Oplivede den halv udslukte Flamme,
Der spottende belyste dem; og da
Det nu blev klart, de hæved’ Øiet,
Og saae hinanden Ansigt imod Ansigt –
De saae –der lød et Skriig og de var’ døde.
Af Afsky mod hinanden døde de,
Uvidende om hvem af dem det var,
Hvem, paa hvis Pande Døden ridsed: »Djævel.«
– Død, øde, laae den folkerige Verden,
En mægtig Klump, der eied ingen Aarstid,
Og ingen Urter, Træer, Mennesker!
Nei, intet Levende; Alt her var dødt;
Et Chaos af et tørt, et livløst Leer.
Søe, Flod og Verdens-Hav, Alt stod nu stille,
Og intet rørte sig i Dybets Afgrund;
De stolte Skibe raadnede dernede,
Og stykkeviis faldt Masten ned og laae
I Dybet, hvor der nu var ingen Bølger;
De vare døde; Draaben selv var død,
Og Vindene, thi Luften var et Stille;
Og der var’ ingen Skyer meer – thi Mørket
Ei mere brugte dem, – det var nu Alt.
Darkness
Adaptation of Byron’s poem of the same name
I dreamed – though no dream did it seem at times!
The sun’s bright gleam was gutted, and the stars
Were without rays, without their pre-set path
In darkness in the endless tracts of space,
Where Earth hung like a dead and black-grey lump
In air in which no moon afforded light.
And daybreak came and went – but no day came.
And in this misery man now forgot
Each trace of passion, and each heart prayed but
For just one thing: the swift return of light.
Man only lived by what was lit – and thrones,
Even the palaces of princes, huts,
Each shed where animals some shelter found
Now was aflame; where cities turned to ash,
But while they burned folk stood around in crowds
So as to see each other one more time.
They lit the forests, but as time passed by
They dwindled and collapsed – until the trunks
Lay gutted there – and everything was black.
On every brow, where this horrific blaze
Quivered like lightning, all one read was dread. –
Some lay there without speaking, hid their face
And wept – some clenched their fist in great despair
On which to rest their cheek while there they laughed;
And others swarmed around and sought to feed
The final flames with everything they found,
Distraughtly gazing at the leaden sky,
The winding sheet for an extinguished world,
Then threw themselves down in the dust and cursed
Out loud and howled while they did gnash their teeth.
Birds of prey screeched and loudly flapped their wings;
The tame and savage beasts came shivering,
And crowds of coiling, hissing snakes appeared
Possessing though no venom and no bite.
They were all killed for food. And then the war
That for some time had stopped broke out once more;
Man bought his food for blood, and everyone
While eating sat there grim and full of hate,
No sign of love was found; one single thought
Ruled over all the world and that was: ‘Death’,
Death without honour. Hunger’s savage pangs
Devoured all entrails; human beings died;
Their flesh and bones unburied lay about,
The meagre for each other were now prey,
And dogs attacked their masters unprovoked;
And only one did guard a corpse from birds
And beasts and humans from among them all,
Until from hunger it no longer could
And then the corpse was carrion. And yet
It still refused to eat, emitting howls
And wails of woe, it sought to lick the hand
That now no longer stroked it – and it died.
Soon famine killed all humans. Only two,
Who came from one great city still remained;
But they were enemies. They chanced to meet
At the low embers of the altar stone
Where what was sanctified lay in a heap
For use profane. There they had raked;
Their naked, bony, heavy hands stirred through
With ineffectual quaking movements what
Of ashes still remained, and their weak breath
Brought life back to the half-extinguished flames
That mockingly illuminated them;
And when it thus grew clear, they raised their eyes
And looked directly at each other’s face,
They saw – a cry rang out and they were dead.
Of mutual repulsion they did die,
Not knowing which of them had scratched the name
Of ‘Devil’ on the adversary’s brow.
– Dead and deserted lay the densely peopled world,
A mighty lump where seasons held no sway,
No single plant, tree, form of human life!
No, nothing living; everything was dead;
A chaos of a dry and lifeless void.
Lakes, rivers and great oceans, all stood still,
And nothing stirred within the great abyss;
Proud ships began to fall apart down there,
And one by one the masts collapsed and lay
There in the depths, where waves no longer stirred;
They were all dead, and every drop was dead,
The winds too, for the air was motionless;
And there were no more clouds – for darkness had
No further need of them, since it was all.
In a letter to Henriette Hanck, completed on 14 Jan. 1832, Andersen mentions ’en Bearbeidelse af Byrons ”the Darkness”, der ret er lykkedes mig’ (an adaptation of Byron’s ’Darkness’ I have been quite successful with).
To see the original poem, go to here.
