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Andersenove pravljice · Hans Christian AndersenO besedilu
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O izvirniku
Andersenove pravljice
Literarne pravljice z nežnostjo, bolečino in ostrim občutkom za čudežno. Bralni jezik je English, izvirnik pa prihaja iz vira Andersenove pravljice v jeziku Dansk.
Besedilo
Srečna družina
The largest green leaf in this country is surely a burdock leaf. If you hold it in front of your little belly, it is just like a whole apron, and if you put it on your head, it is almost as good as an umbrella in rainy weather, for it is so enormously big. A burdock never grows alone; no, where one grows, several grow. It is a splendid sight, and all that splendour is snail food. The great white snails that grand people in the old days used to have made into fricassee, and ate, saying, “Mmm! How delicious!”—for they really thought they tasted delicious—lived on burdock leaves, and that was why burdocks were sown.
Now there was an old manor house where snails were no longer eaten; they had quite died out. But the burdocks had not died out. They grew and grew over all the paths and all the flower beds, until there was no keeping them down. It was a whole forest of burdocks. Here and there stood an apple tree or a plum tree; otherwise you would never have guessed that it was a garden. Everything was burdocks, and among them lived the last two snails, both very, very old.
They did not know how old they were themselves, but they could well remember that there had once been many more of them, that they belonged to a family from foreign lands, and that the whole forest had been planted for them and their kind. They had never been outside it, but they knew that there was something else in the world called the manor house, and up there one was boiled, and then one turned black, and then one was laid on a silver platter; but what happened after that, no one knew. What it was like to be boiled and to lie on a silver platter they could not imagine, but it was supposed to be delightful and exceedingly grand. Neither the cockchafer, the toad, nor the earthworm, whom they asked about it, could tell them anything; none of them had ever been boiled or lain on a silver platter.
The old white snails were the grandest creatures in the world, as they well knew. The forest existed for their sake, and the manor house existed so that they could be boiled and laid on a silver platter.
They now lived very happily and quite alone, and since they had no children of their own, they had taken in a little common snail and brought him up as their own. But the little one would not grow, because he was common. Still, the old couple, especially Mother—Mother Snail—thought she could see that he was getting bigger, and she asked Father, if he could not see it, at least to feel the little snail’s shell. So he felt it and found that Mother was right.
One day it rained heavily. “Listen to it drum-a-rum-a-rumming on the burdocks!” said Father Snail. “And here come the drops!” said Mother Snail. “They’re running right down the stalk! You’ll see, it will be wet here! I’m glad we have our good house, and that the little one has his too! There really has been more done for us than for all other creatures. Anyone can see that we are the gentry of the world! We have houses from birth, and the burdock forest was sown for our sake! I should like to know how far it stretches, and what lies beyond it!”
“There is nothing beyond it!” said Father Snail. “Nowhere could be better than it is here, and I have nothing to wish for!” “Well, I have,” said Mother. “I should like to go to the manor house, be boiled and laid on a silver platter. All our ancestors were, and you may be sure there is something special about it!”
“The manor house may have fallen down!” said Father Snail. “Or the burdock forest may have grown over it, so that the people cannot get out. There is no hurry, after all, but you are always rushing about so dreadfully, and the little one is beginning to do the same. Hasn’t he been crawling up that stalk for three days now? It gives me a headache to look up at him!”
“You mustn’t scold,” said Mother Snail. “He crawls along so steadily. He will bring us plenty of joy, and what else have we old folk to live for? But have you thought about this: where are we to find him a wife? Don’t you think there might be some of our own kind far away in the burdock forest?”
“There are black snails, I dare say,” said the old fellow, “black snails without houses, but they are so common, and they have such airs. Still, we could entrust the matter to the ants. They run to and fro as though they had something to do; surely they will know of a wife for our little snail!”
“I know the loveliest one of all!” said one of the ants. “But I’m afraid it won’t do, for she is a queen!” “That doesn’t matter!” said the old snails. “Has she a house?”
“She has a palace!” said the ant. “The loveliest ant palace, with seven hundred passages.” “No, thank you!” said Mother Snail. “Our son is not going to live in an anthill! If you know of nothing better, we shall entrust the matter to the white gnats. They fly far and wide in rain and sunshine; they know the burdock forest inside and out.”
“We have a wife for him!” said the gnats. “A hundred human paces from here, on a gooseberry bush, sits a little snail with a house. She is quite alone and old enough to marry. It is only a hundred human paces!”
“Then let her come to him!” said the old snails. “He has a burdock forest; she has only a bush!” And so they sent for the little snail maiden. It took eight days for her to arrive, but that was precisely what was so pleasing about it: it showed that she was of the right sort.
And then they held the wedding. Six glow-worms shone as brightly as they could; otherwise everything passed off quietly, for the old snail folk could not bear revelry and merrymaking. But Mother Snail made a lovely speech. Father could not, he was so overcome. Then they gave the young couple the whole burdock forest as their inheritance, and said what they had always said: that it was the best place in the world, and that if they lived honestly and respectably and multiplied, they and their children would one day go to the manor house, be boiled black, and be laid on a silver platter.
And when that speech was over, the old snails crawled into their houses and never came out again; they slept. The young snail couple ruled the forest and had a great many children, but they were never boiled, and they never found themselves on a silver platter. From this they concluded that the manor house had fallen down and that all the people in the world had died out; and since no one contradicted them, it must be true. And the rain beat on the burdock leaves to make drum music for their sake, and the sun shone to give the burdock forest colour for their sake, and they were very happy, and the whole family was happy—for happy it was.
Izvirnik
Den lykkelige Familie
Naslednje strani prikazujejo izvirno besedilo za primerjavo.
Eventyr af Hans Christian Andersen
Det største grønne Blad her til Lands, det er da rigtignok et Skræppeblad; holder man det foran paa sin lille Mave, saa er det ligesom et heelt Forklæde, og lægger man det paa sit Hoved, saa er det i Regnveir næsten ligesaa godt, som en Paraply, for det er saa forfærdeligt stort. Aldrig voxer een Skræppe alene, nei hvor der groer een, der groe flere, det er en stor Deilighed, og al den Deilighed er Sneglemad. De store hvide Snegle, som fornemme Folk i gamle Dage lod lave til Fricasee, spiste og sagde "hum! hvor det smager!" for de troede nu det smagte saa deiligt, de levede af Skræppeblade og derfor bleve Skræpperne saaede.
Nu var der en gammel Herregaard, hvor man ikke længer spiste Snegle, de vare ganske uddøde, men Skræpperne vare ikke uddøde, de voxte og voxte over alle Gange og alle Bede, man kunde ikke mere faae Bugt med dem, det var en heel Skræppeskov, hist og her stod et Æble- og et Blomme-Træ, ellers kunde man nu aldrig have tænkt at det var en Have. Alt var Skræpper, og derinde boede de to sidste, inderlig gamle Snegle.
De vidste ikke selv hvor gamle de vare, men de kunde godt huske at de havde været mange flere, at de var af en Familie fra fremmede Lande og at for dem og deres var hele Skoven plantet. De havde aldrig været udenfor, men de vidste at der var endnu noget til i Verden, som heed Herregaarden, og deroppe blev man kogt, og saa blev man sort og saa blev man lagt paa Sølvfad, men hvad videre der skete vidste man ikke. Hvorledes det iøvrigt var at blive kogt og at ligge paa Sølvfad, kunde de ikke tænke sig, men deiligt skulde det være og særdeles fornemt. Hverken Oldenborren, Skruptudsen eller Regnormen, som de spurgte ad, kunde give Beskeed, ingen af dem havde været kogt eller ligget paa Sølvfad.
De gamle hvide Snegle vare de fornemste i Verden, vidste de, Skoven var til for deres Skyld, og Herregaarden var til for at de kunde blive kogte og lagte paa Sølvfad.
De levede nu meget eensomt og lykkeligt, og da de selv ikke havde Børn, saa havde de taget en lille almindelig Snegl til sig, som de opdrog som deres egen, men den Lille vilde ikke voxe, for han var almindelig; men de gamle, især Mutter, Sneglemutter, syntes hun kunde dog bemærke, hvor han tog til, og hun bad Fatter, dersom han ikke kunde see det, han da vilde føle paa det lille Sneglehuus, og saa følte han og fandt at Mutter havde Ret.
Een Dag var det stærk Regn
"Hør hvor det tromme-romme-rommer paa Skræpperne," sagde Sneglefader.
"Der kommer ogsaa Draaber!" sagde Sneglemoer. "Det løber jo lige ned af Stilken! Du skal see her bliver vaadt! Jeg er glad ved vi have vort gode Huus og den Lille ogsaa har sit! Der er rigtignok gjort mere for os end for alle andre Skabninger; man kan da see, at vi er Herskabet i Verden! Vi have Huus fra Fødselen og Skræppeskoven er saaet for vor Skyld -! jeg gad vidst hvor langt den strækker sig og hvad der er udenfor!"
"Der er ikke noget udenfor!" sagde Sneglefader. "Bedre end hos os kan der ingen Steder være, og jeg har ikke noget at ønske!"
"Jo," sagde Moer, "jeg gad nok komme paa Herregaarden, blive kogt og lagt paa Sølvfad, det ere alle vore Forfædre blevne, og Du kan troe, der er noget aparte ved det!"
"Herregaarden er muligviis faldet sammen!" sagde Sneglefaer, "eller Skræppeskoven er voxet hen over den, saa at Menneskene ikke kunne komme ud. Det har da heller ingen Hast, men du iler altid saa forfærdelig og det begynder den Lille ogsaa med; har han nu ikke i tre Dage krøbet op ad den Stilk, jeg faaer ondt i Hovedet naar jeg seer op paa ham!"
"Du maa ikke skjænde," sagde Sneglemoer, "han kryber saa sindig, vi faae nok Fornøielse af ham og andet have vi Gamle jo ikke at leve for! Men har Du tænkt paa det: hvor faae vi en Kone til ham. Troer Du ikke der langveis inde i Skræppeskoven skulde være nogen af vor Art?"
"Sorte Snegle troer jeg nu nok der er," sagde den Gamle, "sorte Snegle uden Huus, men det er saa simpelt og de have Indbildninger, men vi kunne give det i Commission til Myrerne, de løbe frem og tilbage, som om de havde noget at bestille, de veed vist en Kone til vor lille Snegl!"
"Jeg veed rigtignok den allerdeiligste!" sagde Een af Myrerne, "men jeg er bange det gaaer ikke, for hun er Dronning!"
"Det gjør ikke noget!" sagde de Gamle. "Har hun Huus?"
"Hun har Slot!" sagde Myren, "det deiligste Myreslot med syv hundrede Gange."
"Tak!" sagde Sneglemoer, "vor Søn skal ikke i en Myretue! veed I ikke bedre, saa give vi det i Commission til de hvide Myg, de flyve vidt omkring i Regn og i Solskin, de kjende Skræppeskoven forinden og foruden."
"Vi have en Kone for ham!" sagde Myggene, "hundrede Menneskeskridt herfra sidder paa en Stikkelsbærbusk en lille Snegl med Huus, den er ganske eensom og gammel nok til at gifte sig. Det er bare hundrede Menneskeskridt!"
"Ja lad hende komme til ham!" sagde de Gamle, "han har en Skræppeskov, hun har kun en Busk!"
Og saa hentede de den lille Snegle-Frøken. Det varede otte Dage før hun kom, men det var just det Rare ved det, saa kunde man see hun var af Arten.
Og saa holdt de Bryllup. Sex Sanct-Hans Orme lyste saa godt de kunde; ellers gik det Hele stille af, for de gamle Snegle-Folk kunde ikke taale Sviir og Lystighed; men en deilig Tale blev der holdt af Sneglemoer, Fatter kunde ikke, han var saa bevæget, og saa gav de dem i Arv den hele Skræppeskov og sagde, hvad de altid havde sagt, at det var det Bedste i Verden, og naar de levede redelig og skikkelig og formerede sig, vilde de engang og deres Børn komme paa Herregaarden, blive kogte sorte og lagte paa Sølvfad.
Og efter at den Tale var holdt, krøb de Gamle ind i deres Huus, og kom aldrig mere ud; de sov. Det unge Snegle-Par regjerede i Skoven og fik en stor Afkom, men de blev aldrig kogte, og de kom aldrig paa Sølvfad, saa sluttede de deraf, at Herregaarden var faldet sammen, og at alle Mennesker i Verden vare uddøde, og da Ingen sagde dem imod, saa var det jo sandt; og Regnen slog paa Skræppebladene for at gjøre Tromme-Musik for deres Skyld, og Solen skinnede for at give Skræppeskoven Couleur for deres Skyld, og de vare meget lykkelige, og hele Familien var lykkelig, thi den var det.
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