Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Vadstene.
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babbling pool, and high dames and citizens’ wives
washed unspotted innocence in calumny’s impure
waters.
It is only when the large wooden shutters of
the saloons are opened, that the sunbeams stray
in here; the dust accumulates in their twisted
pillars, and is only just disturbed by the
draught of air. In here is a warehouse for
corn. Great fat rats make their nests in these
halls. The spider spins mourning banners
under the beams. This is Vadstene Palace!
We are filled with sad thoughts. We turn
our eyes from this place towards the lowly
house with the grass-turf roof, where the little
lamb crops the grass under the cherry-tree,
which strews its fragrant leaves over it. Our
thoughts descend from the rich cloister, from
the proud palace, to the grassy turf, and the
sun fades away over the grassy turf, and the
old dame goes to sleep under the grassy turf,
below which lie the mighty memorials of
Vadstene.
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