Wooing of a Fairy, The.

A Christmas Carol.

Here, O Lord; there, O Lord,
In these houses, in these palaces and yards,
There have grown, O Lord,
Grown two tall apple trees.
Wonderful they are,
Joined in their roots,
United and entwined in their tops
The tree reaches up to the sky,
The bark is of silver,
And the fruit of gold.
But the fruit
Could not be plucked,
Through the threat of the Black Sea,
For the Sea was boasting,
And with its mouth saying:
“Who is here in the world
Who would dare to shoot at my apples?”
No one was found;
No one dares.
But when he heard the boast of the Sea,
Went home quickly to his house,
Went up the stairs,
Took the bow from the nail—
The bow with the arrows—
Placed them in his bosom,
And riding on his black charger,
He came to the Sea.
Arrived at the Sea,
He put his hand into his bosom,
Drew forth
The bow with the arrows,
And pointed the arrow to the tree.
The tops of the apple-tree—
The wonderful apples—
Thus spake to him:
“Stop. Do not shoot,
For we will give thee
The sister of the sun,
The niece of the fairies, the beauty among the beauties,”
He was persuaded,
And did not shoot the apples.
He mounted his charger,
Took his bow and arrow,
And turned back.
He had not gone a long way,
When he looked back,
And what he saw filled him with wonderment;
For there came,
There ran a pale-faced damsel.
She neither laughed
Nor rejoiced,
But wept bitterly, tearing her golden hair,
Scratching her white face.
But the knight said to her:
“Stop, O Princess.
Stop, O Queen.
I do not take thee
For a slave to me,
But my mistress shalt thou be,
A good mistress of the house,
A good ruler
Of the household,
A niece
To uncles,
A sister-in-law to brothers,
A daughter-in-law to parents,
Dispenser at the treasury,
Mistress of my wealth.”
The girl, hearing his words,
Ceased from crying,
And joined him joyfully.
And ... the brave man, may he live in health with his brothers,
With his parents,
And with all of us together.