Prince Aladdin Of The Lamp
By Gustaf Froding
The luckless Prince Aladdin
Has now no lamp, alas!
He feels beneath his mantle
Where heretofore it was.
His ring he seeks amain, too,
And finds it not again, too,
For now no ring he has.
The mighty Prince Aladdin
Has lost his wits no doubt,
And blindly gropes about.
He importunes the ether:
” Come, fairy castle mine,
With pearls and rubies gleaming
And halls forever streaming
With white and golden shine!
And you, ye sprites, fulfil now
This task with heedful care
And bring me to my will now
Princess Bedrulbudour,
The moon-mild maiden rare! “
So reels along the street there
Amid the thickest press
The mighty Prince Aladdin
In ragged helplessness:
” Come here and see the fun,
Just listen to his pother;
The crazy tailor’s son
Thinks he’s the Sultan’s brother! “
” Ye tailors and ye beggars,
Ye know not sprites at all.
One only needs to beckon,
One only needs to call:
” Come castle, come, come here!” “
He fixes then his eyes on
The blue far-off horizon
Until it shall appear.
The common people sneer:
” Your castle’s in the moon there;
Fly up and you’ll be soon there! “
Alack! the lamp’s poor owner
May never more have rest,
Nor may he trust his fortune
Who once the ring possessed.
He feels that now no tittle
Of his remaining little
Is left to him secure;
Though ’tis but doubts defeat him,
These childish errors cheat him
Till nothing may endure.
The lamp is high creative power,
The chiefest strength of man;
The magic ring is faith’s rich dower,
Wherewith he all things can.