IT PRINSKE AMARE
by Simke Kloosterman · from Twiljocht-teltsjes : $b Maerkes
Adapted Version
Once, there was a kind boy named Amare. He loved pets. Birds and lambs followed him. He liked to sit by his pond. He looked at the goldfish.
One night, there was a happy party. Amare felt sleepy. He dreamed of a big, pretty bird. The bird had red and white feathers. "Come fly with me," the bird said softly.
Amare grew soft, white wings. He flew with the bird. They came to a quiet, magic land. The flowers smelled sweet. A shiny green bridge was over the water.
Many magic friends were there. Little people and birds played with Amare. They danced and sang. They gave him tiny, sweet berries to eat. All was happy and fun.
The magic bird stood near him. "Time to go back," the bird said. "You cannot stay." Amare felt sad but listened. He flew home to his pond.
Amare grew older. He had to read many books. He had less time to play. He thought of the magic land at times. But he was busy being a prince.
The pretty bird flew away one day. Amare became a king. He was a kind king. He was plain but still good.
King Amare helped all pets. He stopped hunting. He was gentle to all. But he missed his dreams. He wished to see the magic land again.
Many years passed. Amare was very old. He sat by his pond one night. He wished to dream once more. He wished to see his bird friend.
Then, the magic bird came back! It flew to him. It gently touched his head with its wing. Amare felt happy and sleepy. He started to dream again.
Amare felt ready to fly. He was excited. The bird was with him. They would fly to the magic land. He felt young and light again.
They flew up into the sky. A soft, white string tied Amare to home. It was thin like a spider's web. The bird flew beside him.
The string got thinner and thinner. It broke! They saw the magic land far away. It was bright and pretty. Amare was not sad. He was happy.
Amare landed in the magic land. 'Welcome!' said a happy voice. The string was gone. He was home in his dream. He was at peace.
Amare remembered to be kind and dream. And that made him happy forever.
Original Story
IT PRINSKE AMARE.
Der wie ris in kening en dy hie mar ien ienichste soan, in hiel lyts jonkje mei hantsjes as fyn peslein en hierren sa bloun as goudspoanne tried en eagen sa blau as in mar op simmermiddei. En hy gyng sa sêft oer de ierde mei syn lytse foetsjes yn ’e puntige gouden skoentsjes, krekt as gyng der in Sudersigentsje oer in blombed, as der to bloeijen stiet al det mar bloeije wol. De pauwen kuieren foar him út en de lamkes roanen him nei, hwersanne as ’r gyng, alle fûgeltsjes, dy sjonge koene, setten op him ta as se syn gouden hier mar skimerjen seagen en flodderen bliid boppe syn holle, selst de âlde swarte mûzekat, dy greate gemiene smycht, stapte him mei in plechtich ynfieren gesicht efternei, striek de snoarren op, sette de stirt frjeonlik omhegens en taelde net nei de fûgels om him hinne. Hwer Amare kuiere, wie ’t frede, de blommen nikten him dach en de wyn gyng bliid-rûzjende mei him oer de beamtoppen en reaunte fen fiere reizen en frjemde fortelsels. En sa kuiere Amare alle dei de tunen fen ’t paleis yn ’t roun, allerhânne soarte fen dieren altyd om him hinne, njuden en wylden, kleurden en effenen, gemienen en earliken, krekt as yn ’t greate minskelibben, elts nei syn aerd, de arke fen Noäch. En omt se allegear sa mâl mei him wierne, kreauwden se net, al stie ’t sin der sims ek tige nei, hwent den wisten se wol, den waerden se weiband út dizze oarde en mochten noait! noait! werom komme en meigean to kuierjen.
Optlêst, as ’r ynein wie fen ’t kuierjen en boartsjen yn dy greate, hearlike tún, den gyng ’r sitten by de goudfiskfiver en stoarre yn it kleare wetter. Det mocht ’r graech dwaen. Seach ’r der de loft net yn? en de wolkens, dy wûndere wite skippen, al mar silende en der gjin minske de haven fen wyt? Seach ’r der net de sinne yn blierkjen? En de roazen en de earrebarreblommen yn bloeijen, dy-t hjar sa fier oer ’e rânne bûgden, krekt as wierne se sels ek al nijsgjirrich, om hjar eigen moaijens to sjen?
Ienkear yn skimerjoun siet hy der wer. Ticht by him wierne se dwaende, om de feestlampen op to stekken en op greate sulveren standers skalen mei wijrook del to setten om to barnen ta eare fen de dei, hwent heite jierdei wie ’t hjoed. Amare hearde it mesyk spyljen en de fluiten en de fioelen, mar hy hie mear aerdichheit oan ’t oargeltsje fen in nachtegeal yn ’t boskje deun by him. Hy koe him krekt sjen troch in glopke yn ’e bledden, den nikte it fine kopke him wer ta en den song ’r wer.
En Amare harke ’r nei en syn siel dreau stadich foart nei de oarde twisken libben en dead, dy-t min sliep neamt en hwer de kristallene paleizen binne fen Nimmens-Eindom en Faek-Bigeard en ’e hearlike wegen fen Rin-nei-it-Lok en Nim-dyn-Part. Nei det wûndere lân reisge Amare dy simmerjoune, wylst syn heit it jierdeifeest joech mei alle gleone lampen op en de geal op syn lyts oargeltsje spile ta lof fen syn Skepper.
En omt ’r altyd biselskippe wie fen allerhânne djiert, reisge der nou ek ien mei him. En det wie in greate moaije fûgel, kostliker as ’r ea yn syn libben sjoen hie. Syn hals en syn rêch wierne blijread en syn lyfke en boarstke snikwyt en de stirt, der lei in sulverglâns op, o noch folle moaijer as de glâns fen mem hjar keningsmantel en op syn kopke hie hy in sulveren túfke, suver in kroantsje. En de fûgel wjukkele hwet om him hinne en do fleach ’r op.
„Kom nou,” noade ’r frjeonlik.
En Amare fleach mei, lytse gazene wjukjes oan syn skouderkes, heech de loft yn, fier foart....
En hja kamen yn in great stil lân. Der wie gjin lûd en gjin wyn, in hearlike stiltme for earme mishânnele minskeëaren. En ’e sinne skynde der sa prachtich út in opalene loft en sokke frjemde blommen as ’r der seach, hy taeste en fielde ’r nei mei syn hantsjes en sjoch! hja wierne net fen sûker ef sa, mar echte blommen en gjin sabeare guont en hja rûken o! as tûzen mûskeblommen op ien stuit. En der wie in wiid wetter, der roan in brêge oer mei in bôge fen griene flonkerstien en op it wetter lei it fol fen reade en wite swânneblommen, wol fyfteris sa great as by hjar thuses. En de hearlikste geuren kamen op him ta en hy krige ’r gjin pine yn ’e holle fen lyk as sims wol fen dy wijrook.
Hy stie mar to sjen en to sjen en sloech de lytse hantsjes yn inoar. Hwet joech det in lûd! De swânneblommen bigoanen to forwegen en út elts wipte in elfke en kaem oer ’e griene brêge op him tarinnen, de beammen bigoanen súntsjes to waeijen, de colibry’s fleagen by kloftsjes op him ta en in hiele optocht fen dwergjes kaem út in boskje wei en spyljende wei op him yn. Moaije fluitsjes hiene se fen goud en sulver en guont hiene der belderkes oan en lytse klokjes en det gyng mar fen klingerde klinger tra là tra là. Amare sprong fen blydskip op en del, hwet in boarterkes, hwet in wille!
En hy bitaeste alles mei syn teare fingerkes, hwent hy koe ’t hast net leauwe, as alles wol libben en wier wie. En hy fielde it hertke tikjen fen de colibry’s, dy-t him sa mar op ’t skouder en ’e earm sitten gyngen en as lytse fjûrfonkjes yn ’e sinne skitteren en hy dânse mei de elfkes en mocht op ’e fluitsjes blaze fen de dwergjes, dy-t om him hinne stiene en him op en del oanseagen en hy iet lekkers út de koerkes, dy-t se foar him delsetten, stikjes hunich sa great as syn neil en beikes fen tsjien yn ien fingerhoed en hy mocht blommemôlke drinke út kamperfoeljeblommen.
De greate fûgel stie der mar by en dy lake. „Lit it dy mar goed smeitsje, prinske, yn ’t lân fen ’e fantasij is alles goed.”
En do kamen der noch oare muzikanten, seis kikkerts yn griengoudene uniformen en in greate krobbe fen in tromslagger, o in reus wie ’t! en do dânsen se. En Amare ek mei fensels, dy spile net swak by,
„Kom,” sei de frjemde fûgel op ’t lêst, „nou gien’ wy wer nei hûs. Dû moast hjir net to lang bliûwe, prinske fen myn hert, hwent efter it lân fen fantasije leit de bosk fen ’e dwylsin. ’k Scoe for gjin jild wolle, detst der ea tolânne kaemst.”
En de wjukjes oan syn skouderkes woanen wer oan en de stille, frjemde wrâld fen it koart fortoef sonk wer wei yn ’e disige fierte. En Amare waerde wer wekker by syn goudfiskfiver.
en de fûgel wjukkele hwet om him hinne
Hy gyng noch faken mei dy frjemde fûgel nei it lân fen fantasije, mar do-t hy âlder waerde, hie hy der hast gjin tiid mear for. Hy hinge de hiele dei oer tsjokke boeken to learen en hie der jouns gjin sin mear oan, om mei dy moaije, frjemde fûgel òp te fleanen nei frjemde lânnen ta. En do-t hy great waerde, strûpte it lot him de izeren sylbeage fen moatten en tsjinsin oan. De minsken neamden it in kroaning. Stadich groeide der om syn dichtersiel in koarste fen deistich bidriûw en noait dien, de moaije, frjemde fûgel fleach foart út syn contreinen en Amare waerde in kening en in deagewoan minskebern.
Mar hy bleau mâl mei al it djiert, det der mar op ierde omwrimelt. Hy skafte de jacht ôf en joech de jagers elkmis in stik lân en in kaptaeltsje, om in affearen to bigjinnen, de loaie finkefangers moasten om oar wirk siikje en de bern, dy-t dierkes pleagen of nêsten úthellen, bande ’r foargoed fen alle skoalfeesten. Al lypten se ek noch sa... al skriemden se hjar ek hast ta wetter, de wet fen de kening, der waerde de hân oan hâlden.
Nimmen yn ’e hiele wrâld wiste der fen, hokker moaije dreamen en frjemde reizen hy wol net yn syn jonkheit dien hie en sims tochte hy yn in stil jounskoft wol ris: Scoe ’t ek allegearre in dream wêze kind ha en den woe ’r wol, det ’r noch lyts wie en noch ienris sa dreame mocht, noch ienris....
Mar dy-t de goaden marke, dogge se it foargoed. Uterlik en inerlik. It mark meij forgroeije, alhiel wei wirdt it noait wer....
En hja hearden syn winsk.—
Do-t kening Amare âld wie en sêd fen it sjoene, it kostlike blau fen syn eagen mei de dize fen de âlderdom oertein, de hearlikens fen syn smelle wite hânnen bitoarre ta hwet fel en bonkjes, seach ’r op in skimerjoun noch ris de frjemde fûgel op him tafleanen.
Mei in droef glimke seach ’r it. Och, hy koe net mear fleane, it hantsjefol stof scoe allinne mar mear sakje kinne yn in grêf.
Mar de greate fûgel streake him aloan wei mei de útein fen ’e wjukken by de sliepen lâns. „Sa binn’ dyn hânnen faken yn ljeafde oer alle dieren gien, sa hastû earmen en swakken treaste, sa scilstû sels nou ek treaste wirde, Amare, yn dyn droeve ûren,” sei ’r sêft en hâldde oan mei syn stadich gestryk.
En kening Amare syn siel dreau stadich wer foart nei de oarde twisken libben en dead, dy-t min sliep neamt en de frjemde fûgel biselskippe him wer.
Hy hime en suchte... o it spande sa, det syn wjukken wer groeiden, krekt as waerde hy mei in fine sterke tried fêsthâlden oan ’e ierde, oan syn sibben, oan syn lân, oan syn âld tún mei de goudfiskfiver.
De greate fûgel stie deun neist him. Amare tocht, hy hie noch nea sa moai west. En mei syn hiele âlde herte ljeave hy him noch krekt like folle as yn syn jonge jierren, do-t hy noch neat oars wie as Amare, it lytse prinske, det foar it greate libben stie as foar in tichte doar.
De greate fûgel stie deun neist him to sêft forwegen mei de wjuk en wachte... wachte...
Hy wachte lang... En einliks, der krige de âlde kening Amare noch ris wer de kreft om him to forheffen boppe de ierde. De wjukken wierne nou sterker en droegen him lang en fier.
En in tinne sidene tried wyndere him efternei.
Dy waerde al tinder en tinder, einliks as in spinrêchje waerde se efter him oan, efter ’e âlde kening Amare en ’e greate, frjemde fûgel.
Der út de dize wei kaem mei in priel as de moarntiid selme it frjemde lân wer opsetten. It tynde! o it tynde stadich yn hearlikheit!
Hielendal yn ’e blydskip fen det sjen forsonken, roerden de âlde foetten fen kening Amare wer groun.
„Knap troch!” sei in frjemd lûd fen ’e griene brêge oer de fiver fol reade en wite swânneblommen.
En de tried, dy-t mar mear in spinrêch wie, is britsen.
Story DNA
Moral
Even when life's duties overshadow childhood dreams, the essence of who we are, marked by kindness and imagination, remains and ultimately guides us home.
Plot Summary
Prince Amare, a gentle child beloved by all creatures, often drifts into a dream-like state by his goldfish pond. One evening, a magnificent bird invites him to fly to a wondrous land of fantasy, where he plays with magical beings. As Amare grows, royal duties replace his imaginative journeys, and he becomes a kind king who secretly longs for his lost dreams. In old age, the bird reappears, and Amare, after a struggle, finally breaks free from his earthly ties to embark on a final, peaceful flight to the land of fantasy, finding ultimate transcendence.
Themes
Emotional Arc
innocence to duty to longing to peaceful transcendence
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Simke Kloosterman was a prominent Frisian writer. This story reflects a romantic, almost spiritual connection to nature and imagination, common in early 20th-century literature, and is deeply rooted in Frisian cultural identity.
Plot Beats (14)
- Prince Amare is introduced as a gentle, beloved child, surrounded by animals and nature, who loves to gaze into the goldfish pond.
- During his father's birthday, Amare drifts into a dream, where a magnificent, beautiful bird invites him to fly to a wondrous land.
- Amare, with newly grown wings, flies with the bird to a silent land of strange, fragrant flowers, giant water lilies, and a bridge of green sparkling stone.
- In this land, Amare plays joyfully with elves, dwarves, and colibris, eating tiny delicacies and drinking flower milk.
- The bird warns Amare not to stay too long, as beyond fantasy lies the forest of madness, and they return to his goldfish pond.
- Amare frequently revisits the land of fantasy, but as he grows older, his studies and royal duties take precedence.
- The beautiful bird eventually flies away from Amare's life, and he becomes a king, a 'deagewoan minskebern' (ordinary human child).
- King Amare rules kindly, abolishing hunting and punishing cruelty to animals, but secretly yearns for his lost dreams.
- As an old, weary king, Amare wishes to dream once more, and his wish is heard by the 'gods'.
- The magnificent bird reappears to the old Amare, gently stroking his temples, and his soul begins to drift again.
- Amare struggles as his wings regrow, feeling tied to his earthly life, family, and kingdom.
- With renewed strength, Amare finally lifts off the earth with the bird, a thin silken thread trailing behind him.
- The thread, now like a spider's web, becomes thinner and finally breaks as the land of fantasy reappears in the distance.
- King Amare's old feet touch ground in the land of fantasy, and he is welcomed by a voice from the green bridge as the thread to earth severs completely.
Characters
Amare
As a child, he is described as a very small boy with hands like finely beaten gold and hair as blonde as spun gold thread. His eyes are as blue as a summer lake. He moves softly, as if a southern breeze passes over a flowerbed. As an old man, his once blue eyes are veiled with the haze of old age, and the beauty of his slender white hands is withered to skin and bones.
Attire: As a child, he wears 'pointed golden shoes' (puntige gouden skoentsjes), suggesting a royal or noble attire, likely made of fine fabrics such that he moves 'softly over the earth'. As a king, his attire would be regal but not explicitly detailed in the story, focusing more on his inner transformation.
Wants: As a child, he is driven by curiosity and a love for nature and fantasy. As a king, he is motivated by a deep compassion for animals and a desire for justice, especially for the vulnerable. Ultimately, he seeks to return to the pure joy and freedom of his childhood dreams.
Flaw: His greatest weakness is the 'iron yoke of necessity and aversion' (izeren sylbeage fen moatten en tsjinsin) that life as a king imposes, causing him to lose touch with his imaginative self and become a 'common human child' (deagewoan minskebern).
Amare begins as an innocent, imaginative child who journeys into a fantasy world. As he grows older, the demands of kingship and daily life cause him to lose touch with his imaginative side, becoming a 'common human child' and a just king who protects animals. In old age, he is reunited with his inner child and the Strange Bird, finally transcending the earthly realm to return to the land of fantasy.
Gentle, compassionate, imaginative, observant, just.
The Strange Bird
A large, beautiful bird. Its neck and back are bright red, its body and chest are snow-white, and its tail has a silver sheen, more beautiful than the king's mother's royal mantle. On its head, it has a silver tuft, almost a crown.
Attire: Its plumage serves as its 'wardrobe': bright red neck and back, snow-white body and chest, a tail with a silver sheen, and a silver tuft on its head.
Wants: To guide Amare into the land of fantasy and protect him from the 'forest of madness'. To remind Amare of his true self and eventually lead him to his final journey.
Flaw: None explicitly stated, as it seems to be a purely benevolent, almost spiritual guide.
The Strange Bird remains a constant, ageless guide for Amare. It appears in his youth, disappears when he becomes king, and returns in his old age to lead him on his final journey, fulfilling its role as a lifelong companion and spiritual guide.
Wise, guiding, patient, benevolent, protective.
The King (Amare's Father)
Not explicitly described, but as a king, he would likely be of a dignified stature. The story mentions his birthday celebration, implying he is a mature adult.
Attire: As a king, he would wear royal attire, likely including a crown and robes, but no specific details are provided.
Wants: To rule his kingdom and celebrate his birthday.
Flaw: Not described.
Remains a static background character, representing the royal lineage Amare inherits.
Implied to be a typical monarch, hosting celebrations, but his direct interaction with Amare is not detailed.
Locations
The Palace Gardens
Vast, delightful gardens surrounding the palace, filled with various animals, both tame and wild, colorful and plain. Flowers nod and the wind rustles happily through the treetops. It is a place of peace and harmony.
Mood: Peaceful, harmonious, idyllic, playful
Prince Amare spends his childhood days here, surrounded by animals, before his first journey to the land of fantasy.
The Goldfish Pond
A clear pond within the palace gardens, where goldfish swim. The surface reflects the sky, clouds, sun, and the roses and stork-flowers that lean over its edge, as if curious to see their own beauty. Nearby, festive lamps are being lit and silver stands with frankincense are burning for the king's birthday.
Mood: Tranquil, reflective, slightly melancholic, magical
Amare sits by the pond, listening to a nightingale, and drifts into a dream-like state, beginning his first journey to the land of fantasy. Later, as an old king, he returns here for his final journey.
The Land of Fantasy
A great, silent land with no sound or wind, bathed in beautiful sunlight from an opalescent sky. It features strange, fragrant flowers, a wide body of water crossed by a bridge with an arch of green sparkling stones, and the water is covered with red and white swan-flowers, five times larger than those at home.
Mood: Magical, wondrous, joyful, silent, dreamlike
Amare's dream-like journeys take him here, where he plays with magical creatures and experiences pure joy and wonder.