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Alternative Tolkien - Hans Christian Andersen
Saturday, August 16th, 2008 11:48 am.
Hans Christian Andersen:
Once there was a beautiful golden ring that had been made by a terrible lord. This wicked lord wished to be the king of all the world. He made the little ring to help him gain power over the many good kings and queens who ruled in the lands about him.
The little ring was very proud that he was such a splendid ring. He knew that all who saw him wished to own him and be as powerful as the wicked lord. He saw many ride in battle to try to overthrow the wicked lord, but none ever succeeded. "I must be a wonderful thing!" thought the little ring, "I am coveted by all!"
But one day, there was an awful battle, and the ring was cut off the hand of the wicked lord! The little ring felt himself picked up by a mighty king. He was glad, for the mighty king had a great army and glorious banners. The little ring thought he would be very happy with the mighty king, and that he would live in a grand palace and be the most prized possession of the kingdom.
Alas, it was not to be, for the mighty king was killed and the ring sank to the bottom of a river. He was very sad, for it was lonely and cold there. "I wish I could see the banners of a splendid army again," he thought.
After a very long time, the ring was found by a strange little man who took him for his own. At first the ring was glad to be out of the river, but he did not like the little man, who talked to himself and had no army, nor even a house to live in. The little ring had to live in a damp old cave that smelled of fish.
Then the ring was rescued by another little man, who was much nicer than the first, but who had no palace or army, either. Finally he came into the hands of yet another little man, who brought him before a council of great lords. "At last I shall have the recognition I deserve," thought the proud little ring. "I have lived much too long in a river and a cave! That is no life for such an important ring as I!"
And so the little ring went on a rather strange and long journey, carried by the last little man. The ring understood that he was being taken back to the lands of his first master, the wicked lord, so he did not mind that there was no great army and splendid banners to accompany him. "Soon I shall enjoy life again!" the ring thought.
O, but the ring little suspected what was in store for him! He saw that he was fought over, and felt proud, but then he was falling, falling into a great fire! He heard a great clamor of armies and thought of the splendor of battle. "O, 'tis past! 'Tis over, all over! Never again," said the poor little ring.
In the spring, the earth blossomed again. All over the land, the grass grew over the battlefields where once the little ring had been so proud. However, those days were over and the ring was gone, and so every tale must end at last.
Hans Christian Andersen:
Once there was a beautiful golden ring that had been made by a terrible lord. This wicked lord wished to be the king of all the world. He made the little ring to help him gain power over the many good kings and queens who ruled in the lands about him.
The little ring was very proud that he was such a splendid ring. He knew that all who saw him wished to own him and be as powerful as the wicked lord. He saw many ride in battle to try to overthrow the wicked lord, but none ever succeeded. "I must be a wonderful thing!" thought the little ring, "I am coveted by all!"
But one day, there was an awful battle, and the ring was cut off the hand of the wicked lord! The little ring felt himself picked up by a mighty king. He was glad, for the mighty king had a great army and glorious banners. The little ring thought he would be very happy with the mighty king, and that he would live in a grand palace and be the most prized possession of the kingdom.
Alas, it was not to be, for the mighty king was killed and the ring sank to the bottom of a river. He was very sad, for it was lonely and cold there. "I wish I could see the banners of a splendid army again," he thought.
After a very long time, the ring was found by a strange little man who took him for his own. At first the ring was glad to be out of the river, but he did not like the little man, who talked to himself and had no army, nor even a house to live in. The little ring had to live in a damp old cave that smelled of fish.
Then the ring was rescued by another little man, who was much nicer than the first, but who had no palace or army, either. Finally he came into the hands of yet another little man, who brought him before a council of great lords. "At last I shall have the recognition I deserve," thought the proud little ring. "I have lived much too long in a river and a cave! That is no life for such an important ring as I!"
And so the little ring went on a rather strange and long journey, carried by the last little man. The ring understood that he was being taken back to the lands of his first master, the wicked lord, so he did not mind that there was no great army and splendid banners to accompany him. "Soon I shall enjoy life again!" the ring thought.
O, but the ring little suspected what was in store for him! He saw that he was fought over, and felt proud, but then he was falling, falling into a great fire! He heard a great clamor of armies and thought of the splendor of battle. "O, 'tis past! 'Tis over, all over! Never again," said the poor little ring.
In the spring, the earth blossomed again. All over the land, the grass grew over the battlefields where once the little ring had been so proud. However, those days were over and the ring was gone, and so every tale must end at last.
