Waltey

Prevod

There was an ancient carrot, so knobbly, so fat and so heavy, who had the most dreadful nerve: he meant to marry a young one, a lovely young little carrot of the noblest blood among roots.

And the wedding was held. The feast was beyond price, yet cost not a penny; they licked up moonlight and drank the dew, and ate the flower fluff that drifted in from fields and meadows.

Old Carrot greeted them with a bow, then spoke at such length and for so long, his words came bubbling one after another. Young Carrot said not a word, sat without so much as a smile or a sigh, young and fair.

If you don’t believe it, ask Amagermor! A red cabbage was their parson, and white turnips their bridesmaids; cucumber and asparagus sat as guests of honour, while the potatoes stood and sang in chorus.

And everyone danced, both great and small. Ask Amagermor! Old Carrot leapt about without stockings or shoes—ho, hey! His back split open, and then he was dead, never to grow again.

Young Carrot laughed: how strangely fortune turns! Now she was a widow, now she was glad, now she could live just as she pleased, could swim like a maiden in a dish of soup, young and glad.

If you don’t believe it, ask Amagermor!

Izvirnik

Eventyr af Hans Christian Andersen Der var en ældgammel gulerod, så knoldet, så tyk og så tung, den havde et ganske forfærdeligt mod, den ville gifte sig med en ung, en yndig ung, lille gulerod af røddernes fineste blod. – Og brylluppet stod. Beværtningen var ubetalelig god, den kostede slet ingen penge; de slikkede måneskin og drak dug, tog blomsterfnug,

som det kom fra mark og enge. – Gammel gulerod hilste med et buk, og talte så langt og så længe, de ord de klukkede kluk i kluk; – ung gulerod sagde ikke et muk, sad uden at give et smil eller suk, ung og smuk. Hvis ikke du tror, spørg Amagermor! Et rødkålshoved var deres præst, og brudepiger hvide roer; agurk og asparges sad som æresgæst,

kartoflerne stod og sang kor. Og der blev danset af lille og stor. Spørg Amagermor! Gammel gulerod sprang uden strømper og sko, hu, hej! han revned' i ryggen, og så var han død, kunne aldrig gro. Ung gulerod lo, så underligt vender sig lykken. Nu var hun enke, nu var hun glad, nu kunne hun leve som helst hun gad, kunne svømme som jomfru i suppefad, ung og glad.

Hvis ikke du tror, spørg Amagermor!

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