Mandag [Slagelse,14. November 1825]
Kom daarlig fra mine Lexer og jeg troede dog jeg kunde dem. Mismod — jeg kan ikke giøre det bedre, nu bliver han vred vranten mod mig jeg taber Modet og alt gaaer galt, o de[t] bliver til Intet, jeg skal aldrig blive til Noget. —
See de andre unge Ørne flyve
Op mod Solen bades i dens Straaler
Medens Mængden undrende beseer det.
Herligt synge de fra Klippens Tinde
Om den svundne Old og om Naturen
Men jeg sidder fængslet her bag Muren
Dybt i Støvet uden Kraft og Vinge
Kan man ei mod Lyset svinge,
Tør ei synge skiøndt min hele Siæl
Higer mod det reene Gude væld.
Mange, mange seer jeg ile frem
Men ak ikke jeg tør følge dem!
Monday [Slagelse, 14 November 1825]
My homework test went off badly – and I thought I knew it all. Am completely discouraged – I can’t do any better, now he’ll be angry with me and I’ll lose courage and everything will go wrong, Oh, it will all come to nothing, I’ll never become anything. –
See the other eagles upwards soaring
Up to sun’s bright rays where they are bathing
While the crowd below in wonder watches.
Splendidly they sing from cliff-face summits
Of past ages and of nature’s raptures,
While I sit here, walled in, as if captured,
In the dust, unable to be winging,
One can never up to light be swinging
Dare not sing though I with all my soul
Yearn for realms divine to make me whole.
Many, many I see forwards shoot,
But, alas, don’t dare to follow suit!
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