The sigh of the forest
One chilly autumn evening when the day was nearly spent,
A little boy beneath a tree was playing.
He saw the candles burning in God the Father’s tent
And heard the rustling linden-branches swaying.
All hushed he sat, his senses in dreams had taken flight,
While blacker grew the shadows that chill September night.
Then deeply in the dark sighed the forest.
The boy then stopped to listen, and awestruck was his mood,
He rose and ran to check the rising terror,
For ugly thoughts found entrance and stirred within his blood
Till round the heath he wandered all in error.
He thought of father, mother, of brothers, sisters dear:
“Oh, help me, God, I am so small. If only I were there!”
Then deeply in the dark sighed the forest.
The moon stepped softly out from the cloud-rack overhead,
O’er all the earth a silver mantle flinging;
And straightway to the mountains’ foot the frightened shadows fled,
Back to their northern home the trolls were winging.
The mountain peaks were shining, but still the woods were dim,
And in the birches murmured a sad and eerie hymn.
Then deeply in the dark sighed the forest.
The little boy sped onward across the moorland wild,
With many an ancient tale his mind was haunted;
The stars pursued their courses, the heaven smiled and smiled,
But still he could not find the path he wanted.
“Ye gentle stars that travel so high upon your way,
Ye little withered flowers, oh, tell me, tell me, pray,
Who is it sighs so deep in the forest?”
But all the stars were silent, the little flowers too;
Oh, many bitter tears the boy was shedding,
Until he reached the elves’ home. With winged steps he flew,
And cried, within their charmed circle treading:
" Oh, ye who dance so nimbly along the heathery way,
Wee brothers and wee sisters, oh, tell me, tell me, pray,
Who is it sighs so deep in the forest ?"
She smiled, the little elf-queen,—her lips were passing fair,—
And said, his ruddy cheek the while caressing:
"Don’t cry, my pretty fellow, although you know not where
You 've come, and fear upon your heart is pressing.
Be seated on this hillock beside the heathery way,
And dry your eyes and listen to what I now shall say
Of that which sighs so deep in the forest.
"When Night begins his journey o’er land and shining sea,
And when the signs of day at length are-vanished,
When waves have gone to rest them beneath some island’s lee,
And pretty stars return that erst were banished,
Then, then the vault of heaven grows clear and mirrorbright,
A troop of blessed angels come down in silent flight
And shower on the earth their tears of silver.
“When poor Earth sees her image within the mirroring skies
And finds herself so dismally depicted,
And counts the sins: the murders, the vanities and lies
Wherewith these thousand years she’s been afflicted,—
A deadly throe of horror strikes through her marrow there,
The mountains make confession, the valleys fall to prayer,
And deeply in the dark sighs the forest.”
"Oh, thanks to thee,thou elf-queen! I 'll not forget thy lore,
Nor fear as I go home across the heather.
Look! there within the moonlight I see my path once more;
Good-by, we’ll not forget this time together.
I 've neither goods nor treasure,I 'm as poor as poor can be,
But here I promise Heaven that not because of me
Shall come at dusk that sigh from the forest."
–Bernhard Elis Malmstrom.
A variation on the theme by Erik Gustaf Geijer:
The Charcoal Burner’s Son
My father, he’s at the kiln away,
My mother sits at her spinning;
But wait, I’ll to be a man some day,
And a sweetheard then I’ll be winning.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
At dawn I am up and off with the sun–
Hurrah! when the sun’s a-shimmer.
To father then with his food I run;
Soon follows the twilight’s glimmer.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
I roam the green foot-path fearlessly
As I haste through the woods alone there.
But darkly the pines look down on me,
And lone mountain shadows are thrown there.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
Tralala! As glad as a bird in flight
I’ll sing as the path I follow.
But harsh the reply from the mountain height,
And the woods are heavy and hollow.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
If I were but with my old father, though!
Hark! The bear is growling with hunger.
And the bear is the mightiest fellow, I know,
And spares neither older nor younger.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
The shadows come down so thick, so thick,
As if curtains were drawn together.
There is rustle and rattle of stone and stick,
And trolls are walking the heather.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
There is one! There are two! In their net they’ll take
Me, alas! - how the firs are waving!
They beckon. Oh God, do not Thou forsake!
By flight my life I’d be saving.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
The hours went by, the daylight was gone,
The way it grew ever more wild now,
There’s wisp’ring and rustling o’er stick and o’er stone
As over the heath the child runs now.
So dark it is far off in the forest.
With rosy red cheek and heart beating fast
To his father’s kiln swiftly fleeing
He fell, “My dear son, oh, welcome at last!”
“'T is trolls, aye and worse I’ve been seeing.
So dark it is far off in the forest.”
“My son, it is long here I’ve had to dwell,
But God has preserved me from evil.
Whoever knows his Our Father well
Fears neither for troll nor for devil,
Though dark it is far off in the forest.”
[An interesting interplay of pagan and christian themes]
