Far out at sea, the water is as blue as cornflower
petals and as clear as the purest glass. Yet it’s very deep—
deeper than the reach of any anchor rope. You’d have to
stack a lot of steeples on top of each other to reach from
the bottom to the surface. And down at the bottom is
where the sea folk live.
Now, you mustn’t think that the sea floor is only bare
white sand—no, because the most marvellous trees and
plants grow there. Their leaves and stems are so flexible,
the smallest movement of water makes them sway as if
they were dancing. All the fish, big and small, flit through
their branches, just like birds in the air up here. In the
deepest spot of all stands the palace of the Sea King. Its
walls are coral and its high pointed windows the clearest
amber, while the roof is made of clamshells that open
and close with the current. It looks magnificent, because
in each shell there are glistening pearls, and any one of
them would be the pride of a queen’s crown.
The Sea King had been widowed for many years,
and his old mother ran the royal household. She was a
wise mermaid, though proud of her high rank; so she
paraded about with twelve oysters on her tail, while the
other mermaids at court could only have six. But she was
admirable in all other things, especially her affection for
the young sea princesses—her granddaughters. There were
six of these lovely princesses, but the youngest was the
most beautiful of all. Her skin glowed like a rose petal and
her eyes were as blue as the deepest sea. And just like her
sisters, she had no feet, for her body ended in a fish’s tail.
All day long they played in the great palace halls, where
living flowers grew from the walls. When they threw open
the tall amber windows, the fish would swim inside, just
as swallows fly through our windows when we open them.
But these fish swam right over to the little princesses, ate
from their hands and let themselves be petted.
Outside the palace lay a large garden with trees that
were fiery red and navy blue. The fruit shone like gold
and the flowers looked like burning flames, their stems
and leaves forever flickering. The ground was the finest
sand, but it was the blue colour of sulphur when it burns.
Everything was bathed in a wonderful azure glow, so that
you might imagine you were high in the air, gazing only
at the sky above and below you, rather than at the ocean
floor. When the sea was calm, you could glimpse the
crimson flower that all the light seemed to be streaming
from—the sun.
Copyright © 2020 by Hans Christian Andersen. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
