The farm-yard cock and the weather-cock


Gårdhanen og vejrhanen


There were two cocks– one on the dung-hill, the other on the roof. They were both arrogant, but which of the two rendered most service? Tell us your opinion– we'll keep to ours just the same though.
Der var to haner, en på møddingen og en på taget, hovmodige begge to; men hvem udrettede mest? Sig os din mening, - vi beholder vor egen alligevel.

The poultry yard was divided by some planks from another yard in which there was a dung-hill, and on the dung-hill lay and grew a large cucumber which was conscious of being a hot-bed plant.
Hønsegården var ved et plankeværk skilt fra en anden gård, hvori lå en mødding, og på den voksede en stor agurk, der var sig bevidst at være en mistbænkvækst:

"One is born to that," said the cucumber to itself. "Not all can be born cucumbers; there must be other things, too. The hens, the ducks, and all the animals in the next yard are creatures too. Now I have a great opinion of the yard cock on the plank; he is certainly of much more importance than the weather-cock who is placed so high and can't even creak, much less crow. The latter has neither hens nor chicks, and only thinks of himself and perspires verdigris. No, the yard cock is really a cock! His step is a dance! His crowing is music, and wherever he goes one knows what a trumpeter is like! If he would only come in here! Even if he ate me up stump, stalk, and all, and I had to dissolve in his body, it would be a happy death," said the cucumber.
"Det fødes man til!" sagde det inden i den! "ikke alle kan fødes til agurker, der må også være andre levende arter! Hønsene, ænderne og hele nabogårdens besætning er også skabninger. Gårdhanen ser jeg nu op til på plankeværket, han er rigtignok af anderledes betydenhed end vejrhanen, der er sat så højt og ikke engang kan knirke, endsige gale! han har hverken høns eller kyllinger, han tænker kun på sig selv og sveder spanskgrønt! nej, gårdhanen, det er en hane! se ham gøre trit, det er dans! høre ham gale, det er musik! hvor han kommer, får man at høre hvad en trompeter er! Om han kom herind, om han åd mig op med blad og stilk, om jeg gik op i hans krop, det var salig død!" sagde agurken.

In the night there was a terrible storm. The hens, chicks, and even the cock sought shelter; the wind tore down the planks between the two yards with a crash; the tiles came tumbling down, but the weather-cock sat firm. He did not even turn round, for he could not; and yet he was young and freshly cast, but prudent and sedate. He had been born old, and did not at all resemble the birds flying in the air– the sparrows, and the swallows; no, he despised them, these mean little piping birds, these common whistlers. He admitted that the pigeons, large and white and shining like mother-of-pearl, looked like a kind of weather-cock; but they were fat and stupid, and all their thoughts and endeavours were directed to filling themselves with food, and besides, they were tiresome things to converse with. The birds of passage had also paid the weather-cock a visit and told him of foreign countries, of airy caravans and robber stories that made one's hair stand on end. All this was new and interesting; that is, for the first time, but afterwards, as the weather-cock found out, they repeated themselves and always told the same stories, and that's very tedious, and there was no one with whom one could associate, for one and all were stale and small-minded.
Ud på natten blev det et frygteligt vejr; høns, kyllinger og hanen med, søgte ly; plankeværket mellem gårdene blæste ned så det gav et stærkt rabalder; tagstenene faldt, men vejrhanen sad fast, den drejede sig ikke engang, den kunne ikke, og dog var den ung, nystøbt, men sindig og adstadig; den var født gammel, lignede ikke de flagrende himlens fugle, spurve og svaler, dem foragtede den, "pipfuglene, ringe af størrelse og ordinære!" Duerne var store, blanke og skinnende, som perlemor, så ud som en slags vejrhane, men de var tykke og dumme, al deres tanke gik ud på at få noget i skrutten, sagde vejrhanen, kedelige i omgang var de. Trækfuglene havde også gjort visit, fortalt om fremmede lande, om luftkaravaner og frygtelige røverhistorier med rovfuglene, det var nyt og interessant, første gang, men senere vidste vejrhanen at de gentog sig, at det altid var det samme og det er kedeligt! De var kedelige og alt var kedeligt, ingen var til omgang, hver og en var fad og flov.

"The world is no good!" he said. "Everything in it is so stupid."
"Verden dur ikke!" sagde den. "Vrøvl det hele!"

The weather-cock was puffed up, and that quality would have made him interesting in the eyes of the cucumber if it had known it, but it had eyes only for the yard cock, who was now in the yard with it.
Vejrhanen var hvad man kalder blasert, og det havde bestemt gjort ham interessant for agurken, havde hun vidst det, men hun så kun op til gårdhanen og nu var den inde i gården hos hende.

The wind had blown the planks, but the storm was over.
Plankeværket var blæst om, men lyn og torden var forbi.

"What do you think of that crowing?" said the yard cock to the hens and chickens. "It was a little rough– it wanted elegance."
"Hvad siger I om det hanegal?" sagde gårdhanen til høns og kyllinger. "Det var noget råt, elegancen manglede!"

And the hens and chickens came up on the dung-hill, and the cock strutted about like a lord.
Og høns og kyllinger trådte ind på møddingen, hanen kom med ryttertrin.

"Garden plant!" he said to the cucumber, and in that one word his deep learning showed itself, and it forgot that he was pecking at her and eating it up.
"Havevækst!" sagde han til agurken, og i det ene ord fornemmede hun hele hans udstrakte dannelse og glemte at han hakkede i hende og åd hende.

"A happy death!"
"Salig død!"

The hens and the chickens came, for where one runs the others run too; they clucked, and chirped, and looked at the cock, and were proud that he was of their kind.
Og hønsene kom og kyllingerne kom og når den ene løber, så løber den anden med, og de klukkede og de pippede og de så på hanen, de var stolte af ham, han var af deres art.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" he crowed, "the chickens will grow up into great hens at once, if I cry it out in the poultry-yard of the world!"
"Kykliky!" galede han, "kyllinger bliver straks til store høns, når jeg siger det i verdens hønsegård!"

And hens and chicks clucked and chirped!
Og høns og kyllinger klukkede og pippede bag efter!

And the cock announced a great piece of news.
Og hanen forkyndte en stor nyhed.

"A cock can lay an egg! And do you know what's in that egg? A basilisk. No one can stand the sight of such a thing; people know that, and now you know it too– you know what is in me, and what a champion of all cocks I am!"
"En hane kan lægge et æg! og ved I hvad der ligger i det æg? Der ligger en basilisk! Synet af den kan ingen udholde! det ved menneskene, og nu ved I det med, ved, hvad der bor i mig! ved, hvad jeg er for en allerhønsegårds karl!"

With that the yard cock flapped his wings, made his comb swell up, and crowed again; and they all shuddered, the hens and the little chicks– but they were very proud that one of their number was such a champion of all cocks. They clucked and chirped till the weather-cock heard; he heard it; but he did not stir.
Og så slog gårdhanen med vingerne, rejste kammen og galede igen; og det gøs i alle hønsene og i alle de små kyllinger, men de var frygteligt stolte af, at en af deres var sådan en allerhønsegårds karl; de klukkede og de pippede, så at vejrhanen måtte høre det, og han hørte det, men han rørte sig ikke derved.

"Everything is very stupid," the weather-cock said to himself. "The yard cock lays no eggs, and I am too lazy to do so; if I liked, I could lay a wind-egg. But the world is not worth even a wind-egg. Everything is so stupid! I don't want to sit here any longer."
"Vrøvl det hele!" sagde det inden i vejrhanen. "Gårdhanen lægger aldrig æg og jeg gider ikke! ville jeg, kunne jeg nok lægge et vindæg! men verden er ikke et vindæg værd! Vrøvl det hele! - Nu gider jeg ikke engang sidde!"

With that the weather-cock broke off; but he did not kill the yard cock, although the hens said that had been his intention. And what is the moral?
Og så knækkede vejrhanen af, men han slog ikke gårdhanen ihjel, "skønt det var det beregnet på!" sagde hønsene; og hvad siger moralen.

"Better to crow than to be puffed up and break off!
"Det er dog bedre at gale, end at være blasert og knække af!