Zadnji biser | Waltey

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There was a wealthy house, a happy house; everyone within it, master and servants, and their friends as well, was joyful and content, for that day an heir had been born, a son; and mother and child were doing well.

The lamp in the cosy bedchamber was half shaded, and heavy silken curtains of costly fabric were drawn close across the windows. The carpet was thick and soft as moss. Everything invited one to doze, to sleep, to rest in comfort, and so the nurse did: she slept, and well she might, for all here was well and blessed. The guardian spirit of the house stood at the head of the bed; over the child at its mother's breast there spread what seemed a net of sparkling stars, so rich in splendour, each one a pearl of happiness. The good fairies of life had all brought their gifts to the newborn; here shone health, wealth, happiness, love—in short, everything human beings could wish for on earth.

"Everything has been brought and given here!" said the guardian spirit. "No!" came a voice close by; it was the child's good angel. "One fairy has not yet brought her gift, but she will bring it, bring it one day, even though years may pass. The last pearl is missing!"

"Missing! Nothing must be missing here, and if that is truly so, let us seek her, that mighty fairy; let us go to her!" "She will come, she will come one day! Her pearl is needed before the wreath can be joined!"

"Where does she live? Where is her home? Tell me, and I will go and fetch the pearl!" "Is that your wish?" said the child's good angel. "I will lead you to her, wherever she must be sought! She has no abiding place; she comes to the emperor's palace and to the poorest peasant. No human being does she pass without leaving her mark; to all she brings her gift, be it a world or a plaything! This child, too, must meet her. You think that time is always equally long, but not equally well spent. Very well, let us go and fetch the pearl, the last pearl among all these riches!"

And hand in hand they floated away to the place that was, for the moment, the fairy's home. It was a large house with dark passages and empty rooms, and strangely still; a row of windows stood open, letting the raw air pour in, and the long white curtains stirred in the draught.

In the middle of the floor stood an open coffin, and in it lay the body of a woman still in the prime of life; the loveliest fresh roses lay over her, so that only her delicate, folded hands could be seen, and her noble face, transfigured in death, bearing the solemn dignity of consecration to God.

Beside the coffin stood her husband and children, a whole flock of them; the youngest sat on its father's arm. They were bidding their last farewell, and the husband kissed her hand, which was now like a withered leaf, but had once cared for them with strength and love. Bitter, heavy tears fell in great drops upon the floor, but not a word was spoken. The silence here held a world of pain. And quietly, sobbing, they went away.

A candle stood there; its flame writhed in the draught, sending up a long red tongue. Strangers came in; they laid the lid over the dead woman and hammered the nails fast. Loudly the hammer blows rang through the rooms and passages of the house; they rang into the hearts that were bleeding.

"Where are you leading me?" asked the guardian spirit. "No fairy lives here whose pearl belongs among life's finest gifts!" "Here she dwells, in this sacred hour," said the guardian angel, pointing towards a corner. And there, where in life the mother had sat among flowers and pictures, where, like the good fairy of the house, she had nodded lovingly to husband, children, and friends, where, like the sunshine of the home, she had spread joy and been the bond and heart of it all, there now sat a strange woman in long, flowing robes. It was Sorrow, mistress here, now a mother in the dead woman's place. A burning tear rolled down into her lap and became a pearl; it sparkled with all the colours of the rainbow, and the angel caught it, and the pearl shone like a star with a seven-coloured radiance.

"The pearl of Sorrow, the last, which must not be missing! It heightens the splendour and power of all the others. Do you see the gleam of the rainbow here, the rainbow that joins earth to heaven? For every loved one who dies and leaves us, we have one friend more in heaven to long for. In earth's night we look up towards the stars, towards fulfilment! Behold the pearl of Sorrow: within it lie the wings of Psyche, and they bear us away from here!"

Izvirnik

Eventyr af Hans Christian Andersen

Der var et rigt hus, et lykkeligt hus; alt derinde, herskab og tyende, vennerne med var lyksalige og glade, der var i dag født en arving, en søn; og moder og barn befandt sig vel.

Lampen i det hyggelige sovekammer var halv dækket til, svære silkegardiner af kostbare stoffer hang tæt trukket til for vinduerne. Gulvtæppet var tykt og blødt, som et mos. Alt var til at blunde, sove, dejligt udhvile sig på og det gjorde også vågekonen, hun sov, og det kunne hun, alt var godt og velsignet her. Husets skytsånd stod ved sengens hovedgærde; hen over barnet, ved moderens bryst, bredte sig, som et net af funklende stjerner, så rige, hver var en lykkens perle. Livets gode feer, alle havde de bragt deres gave til den nyfødte; her funklede sundhed, rigdom, lykke, kærlighed, kort alt, hvad menneskene kan ønske sig på Jorden.

"Alt er hér bragt og givet!" sagde skytsånden.

"Nej!" lød en stemme tæt ved, det var barnets gode engel. "Én fe har endnu ikke bragt sin gave, men hun bringer den, bringer den engang, om endogså år går hen. Den sidste perle mangler!"

"Mangler! her tør intet mangle og var det virkeligt så, da lad os søge hende, den mægtige fe, lad os gå til hende!"

"Hun kommer, hun kommer engang! hendes perle må til, for at kransen kan bindes sammen!"

"Hvor bor hun? Hvor er hendes hjem! sig mig det, jeg går og henter perlen!"

"Du vil det!" sagde barnets gode engel, "jeg fører dig til hende, hvor hun endogså må søges! hun har intet blivende sted, hun kommer til kejserens slot og til den fattigste bonde, intet menneske går hun sporløs forbi, dem alle bringer hun sin gave, den være en verden eller et legetøj! også dette barn må hun møde. Du tænker, tiden er lige lang, men ikke lige nyttig, nu vel, vi går at hente perlen, den sidste perle i denne rigdom!"

Og hånd i hånd svævede de hen til det sted, som for denne stund var feens hjem.

Det var et stort hus med mørke gange, tomme stuer, og forunderligt stille; en række vinduer stod åbne, så at ret den rå luft kunne trænge ind; de lange hvide, nedhængende gardiner bevægede sig ved lufttrækket.

Midt på gulvet stod en åben ligkiste og i denne hvilede liget af en kvinde, endnu i sine bedste år; de dejligste friske roser lå hen over hende, så at kun de foldede, fine hænder var synlige og det i døden forklarede, ædle ansigt med indvielsens høje, ædle alvor i Gud.

Ved kisten stod mand og børn, en hel flok var det; den mindste sad på faderens arm, det sidste farvel bragte de; og manden kyssede hendes hånd, den, der nu var som et vissent løv, og før med kraft og kærlighed havde hygget om dem. Salte, tunge tårer faldt i store dråber på gulvet; men ikke et ord blev sagt. Tavsheden hér rummede en verden af smerte. Og stille, hulkende gik de bort.

Der stod et lys, flammen vred sig for vinden og skød op sin lange, røde tande. Fremmede folk trådte ind, de lagde låget over den døde, de slog sømmene fast, stærkt lød hammerslagene gennem husets stuer og gange, de lød til hjerterne, der blødte.

"Hvorhen fører du mig!" spurgte skytsånden, "her bor ingen fe, hvis perle hører med til livets bedste gaver!"

"På dette sted bor hun, her i denne hellige time," sagde skytsenglen, og pegede hen i krogen, og der, hvor i livets dage moderen havde siddet mellem blomster og billeder, hvor hun, som husets velsignende fe, nikkede kærligt til mand, børn og venner, hvor hun, som husets solstråle, udbredte glæde og var det heles sammenhold og hjerte, der sad nu en fremmed kvinde, iført lange, side klæder, Sorgen var det, herskerinden her, moder nu i den dødes sted. Der trillede en brændende tåre ned på hendes skød, den blev en perle; den funklede med alle regnbuens farver, og englen greb den, og perlen lyste, som en stjerne med syvfarvet glans.

"Sorgens perle, den sidste, som ikke kan savnes! ved den forhøjes de andres glans og magt. Ser du skæret her af regnbuen, den, der forbinder Jorden med Himmelen. For hver af vore kære, der dør fra os, har vi en ven mere i Himmelen at længes efter. I Jordens nat ser vi opad mod stjernerne, ud mod fuldendelsen! betragt Sorgens perle, i den ligger Psychevingerne, de bærer os bort herfra!"

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