A Rose from Homer's Grave
by Hans Christian Andersen · from Collected Fairy Tales
Adapted Version
Once, in a warm land, there was a beautiful Rose. A Nightingale lived nearby. He sang sweet songs. The Nightingale liked the Rose very much.
This Rose was the prettiest of all. She grew in a special garden. A wise Old Poet rested there. The Nightingale sang only for her.
The Nightingale sang a sad song. He told the Rose his love. But the Rose did not listen. She did not care for him.
The Rose bowed her head. "I am from the wise Old Poet's garden," she said. "I am too special for you. I will not bloom for a small bird."
The Nightingale became very sad. He sang one last sad song. Then he stopped singing forever. His heart was broken.
A kind boy walked by. He saw the quiet bird. The boy felt sad. He made a soft bed near the Rose.
The Rose closed her leaves. She had a dream. The sun shone bright. A man came from a cold land. He took the Rose. He put her in a book.
The Rose became dry in the book. The man showed her to friends. "This is a Rose," he said. "From the wise Old Poet's garden."
The Rose woke up from her dream. A dewdrop fell on her. She looked even more beautiful. The sun came up.
Then steps came near. A Poet walked to her. He was like the man in her dream. He took the Rose gently.
The Poet kissed the Rose. He took her to his home. He put her in a special old book. She was safe there.
The Rose was a dry flower now. She heard the Poet speak. "This is a Rose," he said. "From the wise Old Poet's garden."
Original Story
A rose from Homer's grave
A fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen
All the songs of the east speak of the love of the nightingale for the rose in the silent starlight night. The winged songster serenades the fragrant flowers.
Not far from Smyrna, where the merchant drives his loaded camels, proudly arching their long necks as they journey beneath the lofty pines over holy ground, I saw a hedge of roses. The turtle-dove flew among the branches of the tall trees, and as the sunbeams fell upon her wings, they glistened as if they were mother-of-pearl. On the rose-bush grew a flower, more beautiful than them all, and to her the nightingale sung of his woes; but the rose remained silent, not even a dewdrop lay like a tear of sympathy on her leaves. At last she bowed her head over a heap of stones, and said, "Here rests the greatest singer in the world; over his tomb will I spread my fragrance, and on it I will let my leaves fall when the storm scatters them. He who sung of Troy became earth, and from that earth I have sprung. I, a rose from the grave of Homer, am too lofty to bloom for a nightingale." Then the nightingale sung himself to death. A camel-driver came by, with his loaded camels and his black slaves; his little son found the dead bird, and buried the lovely songster in the grave of the great Homer, while the rose trembled in the wind.
The evening came, and the rose wrapped her leaves more closely round her, and dreamed: and this was her dream.
It was a fair sunshiny day; a crowd of strangers drew near who had undertaken a pilgrimage to the grave of Homer. Among the strangers was a minstrel from the north, the home of the clouds and the brilliant lights of the aurora borealis. He plucked the rose and placed it in a book, and carried it away into a distant part of the world, his fatherland. The rose faded with grief, and lay between the leaves of the book, which he opened in his own home, saying, "Here is a rose from the grave of Homer."
Then the flower awoke from her dream, and trembled in the wind. A drop of dew fell from the leaves upon the singer's grave. The sun rose, and the flower bloomed more beautiful than ever. The day was hot, and she was still in her own warm Asia. Then footsteps approached, strangers, such as the rose had seen in her dream, came by, and among them was a poet from the north; he plucked the rose, pressed a kiss upon her fresh mouth, and carried her away to the home of the clouds and the northern lights. Like a mummy, the flower now rests in his "Iliad," and, as in her dream, she hears him say, as he opens the book, "Here is a rose from the grave of Homer."
- * * * *
Story DNA
Moral
True greatness and beauty are appreciated by those who understand their worth, and pride can lead to isolation and a missed opportunity for connection.
Plot Summary
A beautiful rose, growing on Homer's grave, proudly rejects the nightingale's serenade, believing herself too grand for him due to her noble origin. The heartbroken nightingale sings himself to death and is buried nearby. The rose then dreams of being plucked by a northern poet and preserved in a book, where she is admired for her connection to Homer. Upon waking, her dream comes true as a poet takes her, now a dried relic, to his home to be kept in his copy of the 'Iliad,' fulfilling her desire for recognition but at the cost of her vibrant life.
Themes
Emotional Arc
pride to realization to bittersweet acceptance
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Homer's grave is a legendary site, not definitively located, but often associated with Smyrna (modern Izmir, Turkey). The story plays on the cultural significance of ancient Greek poets.
Plot Beats (12)
- The story introduces the traditional love of the nightingale for the rose, set near Smyrna.
- A particularly beautiful rose grows on Homer's grave, attracting a nightingale.
- The nightingale sings his woes to the rose, but she remains indifferent and silent.
- The rose proudly declares her origin from Homer's grave, stating she is too lofty for a mere nightingale.
- The nightingale, heartbroken, sings himself to death.
- A camel-driver's son finds the dead nightingale and buries it in Homer's grave.
- The rose dreams of a sunny day where a northern minstrel plucks her and carries her away in a book to his homeland.
- In the dream, the rose fades with grief but is presented by the minstrel as "a rose from the grave of Homer."
- The rose awakens from her dream, a dewdrop falls, and she blooms more beautifully.
- Footsteps approach, and a poet from the north, matching her dream, plucks her.
- The poet kisses the rose and carries her away to his home, to be placed in his "Iliad."
- The rose, now a dried relic, hears the poet declare, "Here is a rose from the grave of Homer."
Characters
The Rose
More beautiful than all the other roses on the bush, fragrant.
Attire: Rose petals, green leaves.
Proud, aloof, reverent.
The Nightingale
Winged, lovely songster.
Attire: Feathers.
Passionate, devoted, melancholic.
Homer
None given, only his grave is present.
Attire: Burial shroud.
Renowned, legendary, influential (through his work).
The Poet from the North
None given.
Attire: Traveling clothes, period appropriate.
Appreciative, sentimental, scholarly.
Locations
Rose hedge near Smyrna
A hedge of roses near Smyrna, with tall pines casting shadows on holy ground.
Mood: Peaceful, serene, with a hint of melancholy
The nightingale sings to the rose; the rose declares her allegiance to Homer; the nightingale dies.
Homer's Grave
A simple grave, covered with stones, where the rose bows her head.
Mood: Reverent, somber, a place of remembrance
The rose dedicates herself to Homer; the nightingale is buried here; the poet plucks the rose.
Northern Poet's Home
A home in the north, the land of clouds and the aurora borealis.
Mood: Scholarly, appreciative, a place of artistic inspiration
The poet places the rose in his book and declares it 'a rose from Homer's grave.'