The Garden of Paradise
by
Hans Christian Andersen
(1838)
THERE was once a king’s son who had a larger and more beautiful
collection of books than any one else in the world, and full of splendid
copper-plate engravings. He could read and obtain information respecting every
people of every land; but not a word could he find to explain the situation of
the garden of paradise, and this was just what he most wished to know. His
grandmother had told him when he was quite a little boy, just old enough to go
to school, that each flower in the garden of paradise was a sweet cake, that
the pistils were full of rich wine, that on one flower history was written, on
another geography or tables; so those who wished to learn their lessons had
only to eat some of the cakes, and the more they ate, the more history,
geography, or tables they knew. He believed it all then; but as he grew older,
and learnt more and more, he became wise enough to understand that the splendor
of the garden of paradise must be very different to all this. “Oh, why did Eve
pluck the fruit from the tree of knowledge? why did Adam eat the forbidden
fruit?” thought the king’s son: “if I had been there it would never have
happened, and there would have been no sin in the world.” The garden of
paradise occupied all his thoughts till he reached his seventeenth year.
“Come in,” she said to the prince; “sit down by
the fire and dry yourself.”
“There is a great draught here,” said the
prince, as he seated himself on the ground.
“It will be worse when my sons come home,”
replied the woman; “you are now in the cavern of the Winds, and my sons are the
four Winds of heaven: can you understand that?”
“Where are your sons?” asked the prince.
“It is difficult to answer stupid questions,”
said the woman. “My sons have plenty of business on hand; they are playing at
shuttlecock with the clouds up yonder in the king’s hall,” and she pointed
upwards.
“Oh, indeed,” said the prince; “but you speak
more roughly and harshly and are not so gentle as the women I am used to.”
“Yes, that is because they have nothing else to
do; but I am obliged to be harsh, to keep my boys in order, and I can do it,
although they are so head-strong. Do you see those four sacks hanging on the
wall? Well, they are just as much afraid of those sacks, as you used to be of
the rat behind the looking-glass. I can bend the boys together, and put them in
the sacks without any resistance on their parts, I can tell you. There they
stay, and dare not attempt to come out until I allow them to do so. And here
comes one of them.”
It was the North Wind who came in, bringing with
him a cold, piercing blast; large hailstones rattled on the floor, and
snowflakes were scattered around in all directions. He wore a bearskin dress
and cloak. His sealskin cap was drawn over his ears, long icicles hung from his
beard, and one hailstone after another rolled from the collar of his jacket.
“Don’t go too near the fire,” said the prince,
“or your hands and face will be frost-bitten.”
“Frost-bitten!” said the North Wind, with a loud
laugh; “why frost is my greatest delight. What sort of a little snip are you,
and how did you find your way to the cavern of the Winds?”
“He is my guest,” said the old woman, “and if
you are not satisfied with that explanation you can go into the sack. Do you
understand me?”
That settled the matter. So the North Wind began
to relate his adventures, whence he came, and where he had been for a whole
month. “I come from the polar seas,” he said; “I have been on the Bear’s Island
with the Russian walrus-hunters. I sat and slept at the helm of their ship, as
they sailed away from North Cape. Sometimes when I woke, the storm-birds would
fly about my legs. They are curious birds; they give one flap with their wings,
and then on their outstretched pinions soar far away.”
“Don’t make such a long story of it,” said the
mother of the winds; “what sort of a place is Bear’s Island?”
“A very beautiful place, with a floor for
dancing as smooth and flat as a plate. Half-melted snow, partly covered with
moss, sharp stones, and skeletons of walruses and polar-bears, lie all about,
their gigantic limbs in a state of green decay. It would seem as if the sun
never shone there. I blew gently, to clear away the mist, and then I saw a
little hut, which had been built from the wood of a wreck, and was covered with
the skins of the walrus, the fleshy side outwards; it looked green and red, and
on the roof sat a growling bear. Then I went to the sea shore, to look after
birds’ nests, and saw the unfledged nestlings opening their mouths and
screaming for food. I blew into the thousand little throats, and quickly
stopped their screaming. Farther on were the walruses with pig’s heads, and
teeth a yard long, rolling about like great worms.”
“You relate your adventures very well, my son,”
said the mother, “it makes my mouth water to hear you.
“After that,” continued the North Wind, “the
hunting commenced. The harpoon was flung into the breast of the walrus, so that
a smoking stream of blood spurted forth like a fountain, and besprinkled the
ice. Then I thought of my own game; I began to blow, and set my own ships, the
great icebergs sailing, so that they might crush the boats. Oh, how the sailors
howled and cried out! but I howled louder than they. They were obliged to
unload their cargo, and throw their chests and the dead walruses on the ice.
Then I sprinkled snow over them, and left them in their crushed boats to drift
southward, and to taste salt water. They will never return to Bear’s Island.”
“So you have done mischief,” said the mother of
the Winds.
“I shall leave others to tell the good I have
done,” he replied. “But here comes my brother from the West; I like him best of
all, for he has the smell of the sea about him, and brings in a cold, fresh air
as he enters.”
“Is that the little Zephyr?” asked the prince.
“Yes, it is the little Zephyr,” said the old
woman; “but he is not little now. In years gone by he was a beautiful boy; now
that is all past.”
He came in, looking like a wild man, and he wore
a slouched hat to protect his head from injury. In his hand he carried a club,
cut from a mahogany tree in the American forests, not a trifle to carry.
“Whence do you come?” asked the mother.
“I come from the wilds of the forests, where the
thorny brambles form thick hedges between the trees; where the water-snake lies
in the wet grass, and mankind seem to be unknown.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I looked into the deep river, and saw it
rushing down from the rocks. The water drops mounted to the clouds and
glittered in the rainbow. I saw the wild buffalo swimming in the river, but the
strong tide carried him away amidst a flock of wild ducks, which flew into the
air as the waters dashed onwards, leaving the buffalo to be hurled over the
waterfall. This pleased me; so I raised a storm, which rooted up old trees, and
sent them floating down the river.”
“And what else have you done?” asked the old
woman.
“I have rushed wildly across the savannahs; I
have stroked the wild horses, and shaken the cocoa-nuts from the trees. Yes, I
have many stories to relate; but I need not tell everything I know. You know it
all very well, don’t you, old lady?” And he kissed his mother so roughly, that
she nearly fell backwards. Oh, he was, indeed, a wild fellow.
Now in came the South Wind, with a turban and a
flowing Bedouin cloak.
“How cold it is here!” said he, throwing more
wood on the fire. “It is easy to feel that the North Wind has arrived here
before me.”
“Why it is hot enough here to roast a bear,”
said the North Wind.
“You are a bear yourself,” said the other.
“Do you want to be put in the sack, both of
you?” said the old woman. “Sit down, now, on that stone, yonder, and tell me
where you have been.”
“In Africa, mother. I went out with the
Hottentots, who were lion-hunting in the Kaffir land, where the plains are covered
with grass the color of a green olive; and here I ran races with the ostrich,
but I soon outstripped him in swiftness. At last I came to the desert, in which
lie the golden sands, looking like the bottom of the sea. Here I met a caravan,
and the travellers had just killed their last camel, to obtain water; there was
very little for them, and they continued their painful journey beneath the
burning sun, and over the hot sands, which stretched before them a vast,
boundless desert. Then I rolled myself in the loose sand, and whirled it in
burning columns over their heads. The dromedarys stood still in terror, while
the merchants drew their caftans over their heads, and threw themselves on the
ground before me, as they do before Allah, their god. Then I buried them
beneath a pyramid of sand, which covers them all. When I blow that away on my
next visit, the sun will bleach their bones, and travellers will see that
others have been there before them; otherwise, in such a wild desert, they
might not believe it possible.”
“So you have done nothing but evil,” said the
mother. “Into the sack with you;” and, before he was aware, she had seized the
South Wind round the body, and popped him into the bag. He rolled about on the
floor, till she sat herself upon him to keep him still.
“These boys of yours are very lively,” said the
prince.
“Yes,” she replied, “but I know how to correct
them, when necessary; and here comes the fourth.” In came the East Wind,
dressed like a Chinese.
“Oh, you come from that quarter, do you?” said
she; “I thought you had been to the garden of paradise.”
“I am going there to-morrow,” he replied; “I
have not been there for a hundred years. I have just come from China, where I
danced round the porcelain tower till all the bells jingled again. In the
streets an official flogging was taking place, and bamboo canes were being
broken on the shoulders of men of every high position, from the first to the
ninth grade. They cried, ‘Many thanks, my fatherly benefactor;’ but I am sure
the words did not come from their hearts, so I rang the bells till they
sounded, ‘ding, ding-dong.’”
“You are a wild boy,” said the old woman; “it is
well for you that you are going to-morrow to the garden of paradise; you always
get improved in your education there. Drink deeply from the fountain of wisdom
while you are there, and bring home a bottleful for me.”
“That I will,” said the East Wind; “but why have
you put my brother South in a bag? Let him out; for I want him to tell me about
the phoenix-bird. The princess always wants to hear of this bird when I pay her
my visit every hundred years. If you will open the sack, sweetest mother, I
will give you two pocketfuls of tea, green and fresh as when I gathered it from
the spot where it grew.”
“Well, for the sake of the tea, and because you
are my own boy, I will open the bag.”
She did so, and the South Wind crept out,
looking quite cast down, because the prince had seen his disgrace.
“There is a palm-leaf for the princess,” he
said. “The old phoenix, the only one in the world, gave it to me himself. He
has scratched on it with his beak the whole of his history during the hundred
years he has lived. She can there read how the old phoenix set fire to his own
nest, and sat upon it while it was burning, like a Hindoo widow. The dry twigs
around the nest crackled and smoked till the flames burst forth and consumed
the phoenix to ashes. Amidst the fire lay an egg, red hot, which presently
burst with a loud report, and out flew a young bird. He is the only phoenix in
the world, and the king over all the other birds. He has bitten a hole in the
leaf which I give you, and that is his greeting to the princess.”
“Now let us have something to eat,” said the
mother of the Winds. So they all sat down to feast on the roasted stag; and as
the prince sat by the side of the East Wind, they soon became good friends.
“Pray tell me,” said the prince, “who is that
princess of whom you have been talking! and where lies the garden of paradise?”
“Ho! ho!” said the East Wind, “would you like to
go there? Well, you can fly off with me to-morrow; but I must tell you one
thing—no human being has been there since the time of Adam and Eve. I suppose
you have read of them in your Bible.”
“Of course I have,” said the prince.
“Well,” continued the East Wind, “when they were
driven out of the garden of paradise, it sunk into the earth; but it retained
its warm sunshine, its balmy air, and all its splendor. The fairy queen lives
there, in the island of happiness, where death never comes, and all is
beautiful. I can manage to take you there to-morrow, if you will sit on my
back. But now don’t talk any more, for I want to go to sleep;” and then they
all slept.
When the prince awoke in the early morning, he
was not a little surprised at finding himself high up above the clouds. He was
seated on the back of the East Wind, who held him faithfully; and they were so
high in the air that woods and fields, rivers and lakes, as they lay beneath
them, looked like a painted map.
“Good morning,” said the East Wind. “You might
have slept on a while; for there is very little to see in the flat country over
which we are passing unless you like to count the churches; they look like
spots of chalk on a green board.” The green board was the name he gave to the
green fields and meadows.
“It was very rude of me not to say good-bye to
your mother and your brothers,” said the prince.
“They will excuse you, as you were asleep,” said
the East Wind; and then they flew on faster than ever.
The leaves and branches of the trees rustled as
they passed. When they flew over seas and lakes, the waves rose higher, and the
large ships dipped into the water like diving swans. As darkness came on,
towards evening, the great towns looked charming; lights were sparkling, now
seen now hidden, just as the sparks go out one after another on a piece of
burnt paper. The prince clapped his hands with pleasure; but the East Wind
advised him not to express his admiration in that manner, or he might fall
down, and find himself hanging on a church steeple. The eagle in the dark
forests flies swiftly; but faster than he flew the East Wind. The Cossack, on
his small horse, rides lightly o’er the plains; but lighter still passed the
prince on the winds of the wind.
“There are the Himalayas, the highest mountains
in Asia,” said the East Wind. “We shall soon reach the garden of paradise now.”
Then, they turned southward, and the air became
fragrant with the perfume of spices and flowers. Here figs and pomegranates
grew wild, and the vines were covered with clusters of blue and purple grapes.
Here they both descended to the earth, and stretched themselves on the soft
grass, while the flowers bowed to the breath of the wind as if to welcome it.
“Are we now in the garden of paradise?” asked the prince.
“No, indeed,” replied the East Wind; “but we
shall be there very soon. Do you see that wall of rocks, and the cavern beneath
it, over which the grape vines hang like a green curtain? Through that cavern
we must pass. Wrap your cloak round you; for while the sun scorches you here, a
few steps farther it will be icy cold. The bird flying past the entrance to the
cavern feels as if one wing were in the region of summer, and the other in the
depths of winter.”
“So this then is the way to the garden of
paradise?” asked the prince, as they entered the cavern. It was indeed cold;
but the cold soon passed, for the East Wind spread his wings, and they gleamed
like the brightest fire. As they passed on through this wonderful cave, the
prince could see great blocks of stone, from which water trickled, hanging over
their heads in fantastic shapes. Sometimes it was so narrow that they had to
creep on their hands and knees, while at other times it was lofty and wide,
like the free air. It had the appearance of a chapel for the dead, with
petrified organs and silent pipes. “We seem to be passing through the valley of
death to the garden of paradise,” said the prince.
But the East Wind answered not a word, only
pointed forwards to a lovely blue light which gleamed in the distance. The
blocks of stone assumed a misty appearance, till at last they looked like white
clouds in moonlight. The air was fresh and balmy, like a breeze from the
mountains perfumed with flowers from a valley of roses. A river, clear as the
air itself, sparkled at their feet, while in its clear depths could be seen
gold and silver fish sporting in the bright water, and purple eels emitting
sparks of fire at every moment, while the broad leaves of the water-lilies,
that floated on its surface, flickered with all the colors of the rainbow. The
flower in its color of flame seemed to receive its nourishment from the water,
as a lamp is sustained by oil. A marble bridge, of such exquisite workmanship
that it appeared as if formed of lace and pearls, led to the island of
happiness, in which bloomed the garden of paradise. The East Wind took the
prince in his arms, and carried him over, while the flowers and the leaves sang
the sweet songs of his childhood in tones so full and soft that no human voice
could venture to imitate. Within the garden grew large trees, full of sap; but
whether they were palm-trees or gigantic water-plants, the prince knew not. The
climbing plants hung in garlands of green and gold, like the illuminations on
the margins of old missals or twined among the initial letters. Birds, flowers,
and festoons appeared intermingled in seeming confusion. Close by, on the
grass, stood a group of peacocks, with radiant tails outspread to the sun. The
prince touched them, and found, to his surprise, that they were not really
birds, but the leaves of the burdock tree, which shone with the colors of a
peacock’s tail. The lion and the tiger, gentle and tame, were springing about
like playful cats among the green bushes, whose perfume was like the fragrant
blossom of the olive. The plumage of the wood-pigeon glistened like pearls as
it struck the lion’s mane with its wings; while the antelope, usually so shy,
stood near, nodding its head as if it wished to join in the frolic. The fairy
of paradise next made her appearance. Her raiment shone like the sun, and her
serene countenance beamed with happiness like that of a mother rejoicing over
her child. She was young and beautiful, and a train of lovely maidens followed
her, each wearing a bright star in her hair. The East Wind gave her the palm-leaf,
on which was written the history of the phoenix; and her eyes sparkled with
joy. She then took the prince by the hand, and led him into her palace, the
walls of which were richly colored, like a tulip-leaf when it is turned to the
sun. The roof had the appearance of an inverted flower, and the colors grew
deeper and brighter to the gazer. The prince walked to a window, and saw what
appeared to be the tree of knowledge of good and evil, with Adam and Eve
standing by, and the serpent near them. “I thought they were banished from
paradise,” he said.
The princess smiled, and told him that time had
engraved each event on a window-pane in the form of a picture; but, unlike
other pictures, all that it represented lived and moved,—the leaves rustled,
and the persons went and came, as in a looking-glass. He looked through another
pane, and saw the ladder in Jacob’s dream, on which the angels were ascending
and descending with outspread wings. All that had ever happened in the world
here lived and moved on the panes of glass, in pictures such as time alone
could produce. The fairy now led the prince into a large, lofty room with
transparent walls, through which the light shone. Here were portraits, each one
appearing more beautiful than the other—millions of happy beings, whose
laughter and song mingled in one sweet melody: some of these were in such an
elevated position that they appeared smaller than the smallest rosebud, or like
pencil dots on paper. In the centre of the hall stood a tree, with drooping
branches, from which hung golden apples, both great and small, looking like
oranges amid the green leaves. It was the tree of knowledge of good and evil,
from which Adam and Eve had plucked and eaten the forbidden fruit, and from
each leaf trickled a bright red dewdrop, as if the tree were weeping tears of
blood for their sin. “Let us now take the boat,” said the fairy: “a sail on the
cool waters will refresh us. But we shall not move from the spot, although the
boat may rock on the swelling water; the countries of the world will glide
before us, but we shall remain still.”
It was indeed wonderful to behold. First came
the lofty Alps, snow-clad, and covered with clouds and dark pines. The horn
resounded, and the shepherds sang merrily in the valleys. The banana-trees bent
their drooping branches over the boat, black swans floated on the water, and
singular animals and flowers appeared on the distant shore. New Holland,
the fifth division of the world, now glided by, with mountains in the
background, looking blue in the distance. They heard the song of the priests,
and saw the wild dance of the savage to the sound of the drums and trumpets of
bone; the pyramids of Egypt rising to the clouds; columns and sphinxes,
overthrown and buried in the sand, followed in their turn; while the northern
lights flashed out over the extinguished volcanoes of the north, in fireworks
none could imitate.
The prince was delighted, and yet he saw
hundreds of other wonderful things more than can be described. “Can I stay here
forever?” asked he.
“That depends upon yourself,” replied the fairy.
“If you do not, like Adam, long for what is forbidden, you can remain here
always.”
“I should not touch the fruit on the tree of
knowledge,” said the prince; there is abundance of fruit equally beautiful.”
“Examine your own heart,” said the princess,
“and if you do not feel sure of its strength, return with the East Wind who
brought you. He is about to fly back, and will not return here for a hundred
years. The time will not seem to you more than a hundred hours, yet even that
is a long time for temptation and resistance. Every evening, when I leave you,
I shall be obliged to say, ‘Come with me,’ and to beckon to you with my hand.
But you must not listen, nor move from your place to follow me; for with every
step you will find your power to resist weaker. If once you attempted to follow
me, you would soon find yourself in the hall, where grows the tree of
knowledge, for I sleep beneath its perfumed branches. If you stooped over me, I
should be forced to smile. If you then kissed my lips, the garden of paradise
would sink into the earth, and to you it would be lost. A keen wind from the
desert would howl around you; cold rain fall on your head, and sorrow and woe
be your future lot.”
“I will remain,” said the prince.
So the East Wind kissed him on the forehead, and
said, “Be firm; then shall we meet again when a hundred years have passed.
Farewell, farewell.” Then the East Wind spread his broad pinions, which shone
like the lightning in harvest, or as the northern lights in a cold winter.
“Farewell, farewell,” echoed the trees and the
flowers.
Storks and pelicans flew after him in feathery
bands, to accompany him to the boundaries of the garden.
“Now we will commence dancing,” said the fairy;
“and when it is nearly over at sunset, while I am dancing with you, I shall
make a sign, and ask you to follow me: but do not obey. I shall be obliged to
repeat the same thing for a hundred years; and each time, when the trial is
past, if you resist, you will gain strength, till resistance becomes easy, and
at last the temptation will be quite overcome. This evening, as it will be the
first time, I have warned you.”
After this the fairy led him into a large hall,
filled with transparent lilies. The yellow stamina of each flower formed a tiny
golden harp, from which came forth strains of music like the mingled tones of
flute and lyre. Beautiful maidens, slender and graceful in form, and robed in
transparent gauze, floated through the dance, and sang of the happy life in the
garden of paradise, where death never entered, and where all would bloom
forever in immortal youth. As the sun went down, the whole heavens became
crimson and gold, and tinted the lilies with the hue of roses. Then the
beautiful maidens offered to the prince sparkling wine; and when he had drank,
he felt happiness greater than he had ever known before. Presently the
background of the hall opened and the tree of knowledge appeared, surrounded by
a halo of glory that almost blinded him. Voices, soft and lovely as his
mother’s sounded in his ears, as if she were singing to him, “My child, my
beloved child.” Then the fairy beckoned to him, and said in sweet accents,
“Come with me, come with me.” Forgetting his promise, forgetting it even on the
very first evening, he rushed towards her, while she continued to beckon to him
and to smile. The fragrance around him overpowered his senses, the music from
the harps sounded more entrancing, while around the tree appeared millions of
smiling faces, nodding and singing. “Man should know everything; man is the
lord of the earth.” The tree of knowledge no longer wept tears of blood, for
the dewdrops shone like glittering stars.
“Come, come,” continued that thrilling voice,
and the prince followed the call. At every step his cheeks glowed, and the
blood rushed wildly through his veins. “I must follow,” he cried; “it is not a
sin, it cannot be, to follow beauty and joy. I only want to see her sleep, and
nothing will happen unless I kiss her, and that I will not do, for I have strength
to resist, and a determined will.”
The fairy threw off her dazzling attire, bent
back the boughs, and in another moment was hidden among them.
“I have not sinned yet,” said the prince, “and I
will not;” and then he pushed aside the boughs to follow the princess. She was
lying already asleep, beautiful as only a fairy in the garden of paradise could
be. She smiled as he bent over her, and he saw tears trembling out of her
beautiful eyelashes. “Do you weep for me?” he whispered. “Oh weep not, thou loveliest
of women. Now do I begin to understand the happiness of paradise; I feel it to
my inmost soul, in every thought. A new life is born within me. One moment of
such happiness is worth an eternity of darkness and woe.” He stooped and kissed
the tears from her eyes, and touched her lips with his.
A clap of thunder, loud and awful, resounded
through the trembling air. All around him fell into ruin. The lovely fairy, the
beautiful garden, sunk deeper and deeper. The prince saw it sinking down in the
dark night till it shone only like a star in the distance beneath him. Then he
felt a coldness, like death, creeping over him; his eyes closed, and he became
insensible.
When he recovered, a chilling rain was beating
upon him, and a sharp wind blew on his head. “Alas! what have I done?” he
sighed; “I have sinned like Adam, and the garden of paradise has sunk into the
earth.” He opened his eyes, and saw the star in the distance, but it was the
morning star in heaven which glittered in the darkness.
Presently he stood up and found himself in the
depths of the forest, close to the cavern of the Winds, and the mother of the
Winds sat by his side. She looked angry, and raised her arm in the air as she
spoke. “The very first evening!” she said. “Well, I expected it! If you were my
son, you should go into the sack.”
“And there he will have to go at last,” said a
strong old man, with large black wings, and a scythe in his hand, whose name
was Death. “He shall be laid in his coffin, but not yet. I will allow him to
wander about the world for a while, to atone for his sin, and to give him time
to become better. But I shall return when he least expects me. I shall lay him
in a black coffin, place it on my head, and fly away with it beyond the stars.
There also blooms a garden of paradise, and if he is good and pious he will be
admitted; but if his thoughts are bad, and his heart is full of sin, he will
sink with his coffin deeper than the garden of paradise has sunk. Once in every
thousand years I shall go and fetch him, when he will either be condemned to
sink still deeper, or be raised to a happier life in the world beyond the
stars.”
---------#Andersen's fairy tales: https://goo.gl/R93W6a
#Grimms' fairy tales: https://goo.gl/qmWJBn
Credit:
Audio from: https://librivox.org, edit: Audiobook english Team.
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