# Fear and Trembling, Preliminary Outpouring

Frygt og Bæven · Søren Kierkegaard · Problemata

Source: https://1732studios.com/books/kierkegaard/forelobig-expectoration. Data: https://1732studios.com/books/kierkegaard/forelobig-expectoration.json.


Et gammelt Ord, hentet fra den udvortes og synlige Verden, siger: ,kun den, der arbeider, faaer Brødet.”  
An old saying, drawn from the outward and visible world, declares: "only he who works gets the bread."
> «arbeider», «faaer» — period spellings: «arbeider» = modern «arbejder» (works), and «faaer» = modern «får» (gets). The doubled «aa» stands for the sound now written «å», and «ei» for «ej» — both are hallmarks of the 1843 orthography. Note also that nouns are capitalized: «Ord», «Verden», «Brødet».
> Opening quotation mark «,»: In this period edition a quotation opens with a low comma «,» and closes with «”». The maxim «kun den, der arbeider, faaer Brødet» (only he who works gets the bread) is the motto Kierkegaard will turn against the spiritual world.

Besynderligt nok, Ordet passer ikke paa den Verden, hvor den nærmest har hjemme; thi den udvortes Verden er Ufuldkommenhedens Lov underlagt, og her gjentager det sig atter og atter, at ogsaa den, der ikke arbeider, faaer Brødet, at den, der sover, faaer det rigeligere, end den, der arbeider.  
Strangely enough, the saying does not fit the world where it is most at home; for the outward world is subject to the law of imperfection, and here it repeats itself again and again that even he who does not work gets the bread, that he who sleeps gets it more abundantly than he who works.
> «thi» — for: «thi» is an archaic, literary 'for' (because), heavier than modern «for» or «fordi». Kierkegaard uses it constantly to mark a reason, giving the prose its scriptural, argumentative cadence.
> «gjentager» — the «gj» spelling: «gjentager» = modern «gentager» (repeats). The period spelling keeps a «j» after «g» before a front vowel («gj»), as in «gjælder», «gjør», «gjøre» throughout this text — a feature later dropped from Danish.

I den udvortes Verden er Alt Ihændehaverens; den træller under Ligegyldighedens Lov, og den, der har Ringen, ham lyder Ringens Aand, enten han er en Noureddin eller en Aladdin, og den, der har Verdens Skatte, han har dem, hvorledes han end fik dem.  
In the outward world everything belongs to the possessor; it is enslaved to the law of indifference, and the one who has the ring is obeyed by the spirit of the ring, whether he be a Noureddin or an Aladdin, and the one who has the world's treasures has them, however he came by them.
> «Aand» — spirit: «Aand» (modern «ånd») = spirit. Here it is literal — the genie of the lamp/ring — but it sets up «Aandens Verden» (the world of the spirit) in the next sentence, the realm where the outward law no longer holds. Noureddin and Aladdin are figures from the Arabian Nights.

I Aandens Verden er det anderledes.  
In the world of the spirit it is otherwise.
> «Aandens Verden» — the world of the spirit: «Aandens Verden» = the world of the spirit, set against «den udvortes Verden» (the outward world). This is the pivot of the passage: in the outward world even the idle are fed, but in the spiritual world only labor — and faith — earns the prize.

Her hersker en evig guddommelig Orden, her regner det ikke baade over Retfærdige og Uretfærdige.  
Here an eternal divine order reigns; here it does not rain upon both the righteous and the unrighteous.

her skinner Solen ikke baade over Gode og Onde, her gjælder det, at kun den, der arbeider, faaer Brødet, kun den, der var i Angst, finder Hvile, kun den, der stiger ned i Underverdenen, frelser den Elskede, kun den, der drager Kniven, faaer Isaak.  
here the sun does not shine upon both the good and the evil; here it holds that only he who works gets the bread, only he who was in dread finds rest, only he who descends into the underworld saves the beloved, only he who draws the knife gets Isaac.
> «Angst» — dread, anguish: «Angst» (here also spelled «Angest» later in the text) is a key Kierkegaardian term — the dread or anguish that, in this book, is inseparable from Abraham. It is the subject of his later «Begrebet Angest» (The Concept of Anxiety). Note the rising fourfold «kun den, der …» (only he who …).

Den, der ikke vil arbeide, han faaer ikke Brødet, men bliver bedragen, som Guderne bedrog Orpheus med en luftig Skikkelse istedenfor den Elskede, bedrog ham, fordi han var kjelen, ikke modig, bedrog ham, fordi han var Cilharspiller, ikke Mand.  
He who will not work does not get the bread but is deceived, as the gods deceived Orpheus with an airy phantom instead of the beloved — deceived him because he was soft, not brave; deceived him because he was a lyre-player, not a man.
> «kjelen» — soft, mollycoddled: «kjelen» (with the period «kj» spelling, modern «kælen») means soft, effeminate, fond of being pampered. «Cilharspiller» is an OCR-distorted «Citharspiller» — a lyre/cithara player. Kierkegaard contrasts the soft musician with the «Mand» (man), the one who dares the deed.

Her hjælper det ikke at have Abraham til Fader, eller 17 Ahner, den, der ikke vil arbeide, ham passer det paa, hvad der staaer skrevet om Israels Jomfruer, han føder Vind, men den, der vil arbeide, han føder sin egen Fader.  
Here it is no help to have Abraham for a father, or seventeen ancestors; to him who will not work applies what is written of the virgins of Israel — he brings forth wind; but he who will work brings forth his own father.
> «Ahner» — ancestors: «Ahner» (from German «Ahnen») = ancestors, forebears. «at have Abraham til Fader» (to have Abraham for a father) echoes John 8:39 / Matthew 3:9. «han føder Vind» (he brings forth wind) alludes to Isaiah 26:18.

Der er en Viden, der formastelig vil indføre i Aandens Verden den samme Ligegyldighedens Lov, som den, under hvilken den udvortes Verden sukker.  
There is a knowing that presumptuously wishes to introduce into the world of the spirit the same law of indifference under which the outward world groans.
> «Viden» — knowing, knowledge: «Viden» = knowledge, the act of knowing. Kierkegaard's target is speculative philosophy (Hegelian «System»), which presumes that to know the great is enough — that it can dispense with the labor of faith. «formastelig» = presumptuously, arrogantly.

Den mener, at det er nok at vide det Store, andet Arbeide behøves der ikke.  
It supposes that it is enough to know the great; no further work is needed.

Men derfor faaer den ikke Brødet, den omkommer af Hunger, medens Alt forvandler sig til Guld.  
But therefore it does not get the bread; it perishes of hunger while everything turns to gold.

Og hvad veed den ogsaa?  
And what, after all, does it know?
> «veed» — knows: «veed» is the period spelling of «ved» (knows), from «at vide» (to know). The doubled vowel marks the old orthography; compare «faaer», «staaer», «laae» elsewhere in this text.

Der var mange Tusinder i den græske Samtid, utallige i de senere Slægter, der vidste alle Miltiades's Triumpher, men der var kun Een, der blev søvnløs over dem.  
There were many thousands in the Greek age, countless in later generations, who knew all the triumphs of Miltiades, but there was only one whom they made sleepless.

Der var talløse Slægter, der vidste Ord til andet udenad Fortællingen om Abraham, hvor Mange gjorde den søvnløs?  
There were countless generations who knew the story of Abraham word for word by heart — how many did it make sleepless?
> «Ord til andet udenad» — by heart, word for word: «at kunne noget Ord til andet udenad» is an idiom meaning to know something word for word, by heart. The contrast is with being made «søvnløs» (sleepless) — moved and unsettled — by the story rather than merely memorizing it.

Fortællingen om Abraham har nu den mærkelige Egenskab, at den altid bliver herlig, hvor fattigt man end forstaaer den, men dog gjælder det atter her, om man vil arbeide og være besværet.  
The story of Abraham has the remarkable quality that it always remains glorious, however poorly one understands it; yet here too it holds whether one is willing to work and to be burdened.

Men arbeide vil man ikke, og dog vil man forstaae Fortællingen.  
But one will not work, and yet one wishes to understand the story.
> Fronted object word order: «Men arbeide vil man ikke» fronts the infinitive «arbeide» (to work) for emphasis, pushing the verb «vil» into second position (V2) and the subject «man» after it. Literally 'But work, one will not.' This emphatic inversion drives the sentence's irony.

Man taler til Abrahams Ære, men hvorledes?  
One speaks in Abraham's honor — but how?

Man giver det Hele et ganske almindeligt Udtryk: ,det var det Store, at han elskede Gud saaledes, at han vilde offre ham det Bedste."  
One gives the whole thing a quite commonplace expression: "the great thing was that he loved God so much that he was willing to sacrifice to him the best he had."
> «offre» — to sacrifice: «offre» (modern «ofre») = to sacrifice, to offer up. «det Bedste» (the best) is the vague phrase Kierkegaard will attack: it lets the listener identify Isaac with 'the best' in the abstract and so evade the real horror — that Abraham would sacrifice his son.

Det er meget sandt; men det , Bedste" er et ubestemt Udtryk.  
That is very true; but "the best" is an indefinite expression.

Man identificerer i Tankens og Mundens Løb ganske trygt Isaak og det Bedste, og den Mediterende kan godt ryge sin Pibe under Meditationen, og den Hørende kan godt strække Benene mageligt ud fra sig.  
In the course of thought and of speech one quite securely identifies Isaac with the best, and the meditator may comfortably smoke his pipe during the meditation, and the listener may comfortably stretch out his legs.

Dersom hiin rige Yngling, hvem Christus mødte paa sin Vei, havde solgt alt sit Gods og givet det til de Fattige, da skulde vi prise ham, som alt hvad der er Stort, og end ikke forstaae ham uden at arbeide, men han var dog ikke bleven en Abraham, uagtet han offrede det Bedste.  
If that rich young man whom Christ met on his way had sold all his goods and given them to the poor, we would praise him, as we praise all that is great, and not even understand him without working; yet he would not have become an Abraham, even though he sacrificed the best he had.
> «Dersom … da» — if … then: «Dersom» is a formal 'if', heavier than «hvis», answered here by «da» (then). «hiin» = that (yonder), a literary demonstrative. The rich young man is from Matthew 19:16–22 / Mark 10:17–22.
> «uagtet» — even though: «uagtet» = even though, notwithstanding. The point: a perfect act of charity, however praiseworthy, still does not reach Abraham — because giving up money carries no ethical guilt, whereas Abraham's deed does.

Det man udelader af Abrahams Historie er Angesten; thi mod Penge har jeg ingen ethisk Forpligtelse, men mod Sønnen har Faderen den høieste og helligste.  
What one leaves out of Abraham's story is the dread; for toward money I have no ethical obligation, but toward the son the father has the highest and holiest.
> «Angesten» — the dread: «Angesten» (the dread / anguish; «Angest» = modern «angst») is, for Kierkegaard, the one thing the comfortable retelling omits. It arises precisely from the ethical obligation: a father's duty to his son is «den høieste og helligste» (the highest and holiest), and Abraham must violate it.
> «ethisk» — the ethical: «ethisk» (ethical) and «det Ethiske» (the ethical) name a central category of the book: the universal moral law. Abraham's anguish is that faith requires him to suspend the ethical — to do what is, ethically, murder. Note «høieste» = period spelling of «højeste» (highest).

Dog Angest er en farlig Sag for Blødagtige, derfor glemmer man den, og desuagtet vil man tale om Abraham.  
Yet dread is a dangerous matter for the soft, and so one forgets it — and even so one wishes to speak of Abraham.
> «Blødagtige» — the soft, effeminate: «Blødagtige» (the soft, faint-hearted, self-indulgent; literally 'soft-natured') picks up «kjelen» from earlier. «desuagtet» = nevertheless, even so. The soft forget the dread, yet still presume to praise Abraham.

Man taler da, i Talens Løb vexle de tvende Udtryk: Isaak og det Bedste, Alt gaaer ypperligt.  
So one speaks, and in the course of the speech the two expressions alternate — Isaac and the best — and everything goes splendidly.
> «tvende» — two: «tvende» is an archaic, elevated word for «to» (two). «vexle» (modern «veksle») = to alternate, exchange. The sermon glides comfortably between 'Isaac' and 'the best' precisely so the speaker never has to face the concrete horror.

Traf det sig imidlertid saa, at der iblandt Tilhørerne var en Mand, der leed af Søvnløshed, da ligger den forfærdeligste, den dybeste, tragiske og comiske Misforstaaelse meget nær.  
If, however, it should happen that among the listeners there was a man who suffered from sleeplessness, then the most dreadful, the deepest, tragic and comic misunderstanding lies very near.
> «comiske», «tragiske» — Latinate spellings: «comiske» (comic) and «tragiske» (tragic) keep their Latinate «c»; modern Danish writes «komisk». The tragic-comic collision Kierkegaard sets up — a literal-minded listener who takes the sermon seriously — is one of the book's most pointed scenes.

Han gik hjem, han vilde gjøre ligesom Abraham; thi Sønnen er jo det Bedste.  
He went home; he wanted to do just as Abraham did — for the son is, after all, the best.
> «jo» — after all, you know: «jo» is a modal particle: it appeals to something the listener supposedly already grants ('the son is, of course, the best'). The whole tragedy follows from taking the sermon's loose identification of Isaac with 'the best' at its word.

Hvis hiin Taler fik det at vide, da gik han maaskee til ham, han samlede al sin geistlige Værdighed og raabte: ,afskyelige Menneske, Udskud af Samfundet, hvilken Djævel har saaledes besat Dig, at Du vil myrde Diu Søn.”  
If that speaker came to know of it, then perhaps he would go to him, gather all his clerical dignity, and cry out: "abominable man, outcast of society, what devil has so possessed you that you would murder your son!"
> «geistlige» — clerical: «geistlige» (modern «gejstlige») = clerical, of the clergy; the «Taler» (speaker) is a preacher. «Udskud af Samfundet» = outcast / dregs of society. («Diu» here is an OCR slip for «Din» — your.) The preacher recoils in horror at the very deed he had just praised in Abraham.

Og Præsten, som ikke havde sporet nogen Varme eller Transpiration ved at prædike om Abraham, han forbausedes over sig selv, over den Alvorens Vrede, med hvilken han nedtordnede hiint stakkels Menneske; han var glad over sig selv; thi han havde aldrig talet med saadan Fynd og Salvelse; han sagde til sig selv og sin Kone: ,Jeg er Taler, det, der har manglet, har været Anledningen, da jeg i Søndags talte om Abraham, følte jeg mig aldeles ikke greben."”  
And the priest, who had felt no warmth or perspiration in preaching about Abraham, was astonished at himself, at the earnest wrath with which he thundered down upon that poor man; he was pleased with himself, for he had never spoken with such force and unction; he said to himself and his wife: "I am an orator; what has been lacking was the occasion — when I preached about Abraham last Sunday, I felt not in the least seized."
> «Fynd og Salvelse» — force and unction: «Fynd» = pith, force; «Salvelse» = unction, the oily fervor of pulpit eloquence. The savage irony: the priest is moved not by Abraham but by his own thundering rhetoric. «greben» = seized, gripped (the genuine inward emotion he never felt).

0Dersom samme Taler havde en lille Overflødighed af Forstand, der lod sig tabe, saa tænker jeg han tabte den, hvis Synderen roligt og værdigt svarede: det var jo, hvad Du selv prædikede om i Søndags.  
If the same speaker had a little surplus of understanding that could be lost, then I think he would lose it if the sinner answered, calmly and with dignity: but that is just what you yourself preached about last Sunday.
> «Synderen» — the sinner: «Synderen» = the sinner — the very man the preacher has just denounced. («0Dersom» carries a stray leading 0 from the scan; read «Dersom», if.) The sinner's calm reply lays bare the preacher's contradiction: he condemns in a man what he extolled in Abraham.

Hvorledes skulde ogsaa Præsten kunne faae Sligt i sit Hoved, og dog var det jo saa, og Feilen kun den, at han ikke havde vidst, hvad han sagde.  
How indeed could the priest get such a thing into his head — and yet so it was, and the only fault was that he had not known what he was saying.

At der dog ikke er en Digter. der kunde beslutte sig til at foretrække saadanne Situationer for det Fias og Tant, hvormed man fylder Comedier og Romaner!  
That there is, after all, no poet who could bring himself to prefer such situations to the trash and frippery with which comedies and novels are filled!
> «Digter», «Fias og Tant»: «Digter» = poet (in the broad sense of imaginative writer). «Fias og Tant» = nonsense and frippery, empty trifles. Kierkegaard laments that no writer mines these real tragic-comic collisions, preferring the hollow plots of «Comedier og Romaner» (comedies and novels).

Det Comiske og det Tragiske berøre her hinanden i absolut Uendelighed.  
The comic and the tragic here touch one another in absolute infinity.
> Plural verb «berøre»: «berøre» keeps an old plural verb ending agreeing with the compound subject «Det Comiske og det Tragiske» (the comic and the tragic); modern Danish would simply use «berører». In 1843 such plural concord was still written in elevated prose.

sPræstens Tale var maaskee i og for sig latterlig nok, men blev uendelig latterlig ved sin Virkning, og dog var define ganske naturlig.  
The priest's speech was perhaps ridiculous enough in itself, but became infinitely ridiculous in its effect — and yet that effect was entirely natural.

Eller hvis Synderen virkelig uden at gjøre nogen Indvending blev omvendt af Præstens Straffetale, hvis denne nidkjære Geistlige gik glad hjem, glad i Bevidstheden om, at han ikke blot virkede fra Prædikestolen, men fremfor Alt med uimodstaaelig Magt som Sjælesørger, idet han om Søndagen begeistrede Menigheden, medens han om Mandagen som en Cherub med luende Glavind stillede sig for den, der ved sin Gjerning vilde gjøre hiint gamle Ord til Skamme, at det ikke gaaer til i Verden som Præsten prædiker ”).  
Or if the sinner, without raising any objection, really were converted by the priest's reproof — if this zealous cleric went home glad, glad in the consciousness that he had worked not only from the pulpit but above all, with irresistible power, as a curate of souls, inspiring the congregation on Sunday while on Monday, like a cherub with a flaming sword, he set himself against the man who by his deed would put to shame that old saying, that things do not go in the world as the priest preaches.
> «Glavind» — sword (cherub with flaming sword): «Glavind» is an archaic word for sword; «luende» = flaming, blazing. The image is the cherub set to guard Eden (Genesis 3:24). «Sjælesørger» = curate of souls, pastor. «nidkjær» (modern «nidkær») = zealous. «begeistrede» = inspired, enthused.

Hvis Synderen derimod ikke blev overbeviist, saa er hans Situation tragisk nok.  
If, on the other hand, the sinner was not convinced, then his situation is tragic enough.

Han blev da formodentlig henrettet eller sendt i Daarekisten, kort, han blev ulykkelig i Forhold til den saakaldte Virkelighed, i en anden Forstand tænker jeg vel, at Abraham gjorde ham lykkelig; thi den, der arbeider, omkommer ikke.  
He was then presumably executed or sent to the madhouse — in short, he became unhappy in relation to so-called reality; but in another sense I rather think that Abraham made him happy, for he who works does not perish.
> «Daarekisten» — the madhouse: «Daarekisten» (literally 'the fools' box') is an old term for an asylum or madhouse. «saakaldte Virkelighed» = so-called reality. The paradox: the man is ruined in the eyes of the world, yet 'he who works does not perish' — the motto from the opening now turned to the sinner.

Hvoraf forklarer man en saadan Modsigelse som hiin Talers?  
How does one explain such a contradiction as that speaker's?

Er det fordi Abraham har faaet Hævd paa et være en stor Mand, saa at hvad han gjør, er stort, og naar en Anden gjør det Samme, er det Synd, himmelraabende Synd?  
Is it because Abraham has acquired a prescriptive right to be a great man, so that what he does is great, and when another does the same it is sin, a sin that cries to heaven?
> «Hævd» — prescriptive right: «at have Hævd paa noget» = to have an established, prescriptive right to something (a legal term for a right acquired by long usage). «himmelraabende Synd» = a sin crying to heaven. («et være» reads «at være», to be — a scan slip.) Kierkegaard's sharp question: is greatness merely a privilege of reputation?

I saa Fald da ønsker jeg ikke at deeltage i slig tankeløs Lovprisen.  
In that case I do not wish to take part in such thoughtless praise.

Kan Troen ikke gjøre det til en hellig Handling at ville myrde sin Søn, saa lad den samme Dom gaae over Abraham som over enhver Anden.  
If faith cannot make it a holy act to will the murder of one's son, then let the same judgment fall on Abraham as on everyone else.
> «Troen» — faith: «Tro» / «Troen» (faith / the faith) is the central concept of the book. Kierkegaard's demand is uncompromising: either faith genuinely transforms an act of would-be murder into 'a holy act,' or Abraham must be judged a murderer like anyone else. There is no comfortable middle.

Mangler man maaskee Mod til at gjennemføre sin Tanke, at sige, at Abraham var en Morder, da er det vel bedre at erhverve dette Mod, end at spilde Tiden paa ufortjente Lovtaler.  
If one perhaps lacks the courage to carry one's thought through — to say that Abraham was a murderer — then it is surely better to acquire that courage than to waste time on undeserved eulogies.
> «Mod» — courage: «Mod» = courage. «Lovtaler» = eulogies, panegyrics (the book's opening section is a «Lovtale over Abraham»). Kierkegaard insists on intellectual honesty: better to face the conclusion that, ethically, Abraham was a murderer than to praise him without understanding.

Det ethiske Udtryk for hvad Abraham gjorde er, at han vilde myrde Isaak, det en er t( I gamle Dage sagde man: det er sørgeligt, at det ikke gaaer til i Verden som Præsten prædiker — maaskee kommer den Tid, især ved Philosophbiens Hjælp, da man kan sige: heldigviis gaaer det ikke saaledes til som Præsten prædiker; thi i Livet er der dog lidt Mening, i hans Præken er der slet ingen. religieuse er, at han vilde offre Isaak; men i denne Modsigelse ligger netop Angesten, der vel kan gjøre et Menneske søvnløst, og dog er Abraham ikke den, han er, uden denne Angst.  
The ethical expression for what Abraham did is that he would murder Isaac; the religious expression is that he would sacrifice Isaac — but it is precisely in this contradiction that the dread lies, the dread that can indeed make a man sleepless, and yet Abraham is not who he is without this dread. (In the old days people said: it is sad that things do not go in the world as the priest preaches — perhaps the time will come, especially with the help of philosophy, when one may say: fortunately things do not go as the priest preaches, for in life there is at least a little sense, in his sermon none at all.)
> «Modsigelse» — the contradiction: «Modsigelse» = contradiction — the gap between the ethical name (murder) and the religious name (sacrifice) for one and the same deed. In that gap lives «Angesten» (the dread). This is the heart of the book: Abraham is unintelligible, and is not himself, without this anguish.

Eller gjorde Abraham maaskee slet ikke, hvad der fortælles, var det maaskee paa Grund af hine Tiders Forhold noget ganske Andet, saa lad os glemme ham; thi hvad er det Umagen værd at erindre det Forbigangne, der ikke kan blive et Nærværende.  
Or did Abraham perhaps not do at all what is told of him — was it perhaps, owing to the conditions of those times, something quite different — then let us forget him; for what is the use of remembering a past that cannot become a present?
> «det Forbigangne» / «et Nærværende» — past / present: «det Forbigangne» = the past (what has gone by); «et Nærværende» = a present (something present and living). Kierkegaard's principle: a hero is worth remembering only if his deed can be made contemporary — relived in dread — rather than admired as a dead historical fact.

Eller bavde maaskee hiin Taler glemt Noget, der svarede til den ethiske Forglemmelse, at Isaak var Sønnen.  
Or had that speaker perhaps forgotten something corresponding to the ethical forgetting — that Isaac was the son?
> «den ethiske Forglemmelse» — the ethical forgetting: «Forglemmelse» = a forgetting, oversight. («bavde» is a scan slip for «havde», had.) The 'ethical forgetting' is the sermon's evasion: by speaking of 'the best' it forgets the concrete fact that Isaac was Abraham's own son — which is the whole ethical weight of the deed.

Naar Troen nemlig ved at blive til Nul og Nichts tages bort, saa bliver kun det raae Factum tilbage, at Abraham vilde myrde Isaak, hvilket er nemt nok at eftergjøre for Enhver, der ikke har Troen, det vil sige den Tro, der gjør ham det svært.  
For when faith, by being reduced to nothing and to nichts, is taken away, then only the raw fact remains that Abraham would murder Isaac — which is easy enough for anyone to imitate who does not have faith, that is, the faith that makes it hard for him.
> «Nul og Nichts» — nothing and nothing: «Nul og Nichts» pairs Danish «Nul» (zero, nought) with German «Nichts» (nothing) — a colloquial doubling meaning 'absolutely nothing.' Strip faith away and only «det raae Factum» (the raw fact) remains: that Abraham would kill Isaac. It is faith — the faith that makes the deed hard — that distinguishes Abraham from a murderer.
> «eftergjøre» — to imitate: «eftergjøre» (modern «eftergøre») = to imitate, copy, reproduce. The raw deed is easy to copy for anyone without faith; what cannot be copied is the inward faith that, paradoxically, makes the very same deed agonizingly difficult.

Jeg for mit Vedkommende mangler ikke Mod til at tænke en Tanke heel; hidtil har jeg ingen frygtet, skulde jeg støde paa en saadan, da vil jeg haabe, at jeg idetmindste har Oprigtighed til at sige, denne Tanke frygter jeg, den oprører noget Andet i mig og derfor vil jeg ikke tænke den, gjør jeg Uret dermed, saa vil Straffen vel ikke udeblive.  
For my part I do not lack the courage to think a thought to the end; so far I have feared none, and should I come upon such a one, then I hope that I shall at least have the honesty to say: this thought I fear, it stirs up something else in me, and therefore I will not think it — and if I do wrong thereby, then the punishment will surely not fail to come.
> «at tænke en Tanke heel» — to think a thought through: «heel» (modern «hel») = whole, entire; «at tænke en Tanke heel» = to think a thought to its full conclusion. «Oprigtighed» = honesty, sincerity. Kierkegaard's standard of intellectual courage: think a thought all the way through, or honestly confess that you dare not.

Hvis jeg havde erkjendt det for Sandhedens Dom, at Abraham var en Morder, da veed jeg ikke, om jeg havde kunnet bringe min Pietet for ham til Taushed.  
If I had recognized it as the verdict of truth that Abraham was a murderer, then I do not know whether I could have brought my reverence for him to silence.
> «Pietet» — reverence, piety: «Pietet» (from Latin «pietas») = reverence, dutiful devotion. «erkjendt» (modern «erkendt») = recognized, acknowledged. Even were truth to convict Abraham of murder, Kierkegaard doubts he could silence his reverence — a tension that drives the whole inquiry.

Havde jeg imidlertid lænkt det, saa havde jeg formodentlig tiet dermed; thi i slige Tanker skal man ikke indvie Andre.  
Had I, however, thought it, I would presumably have kept silent about it; for into such thoughts one ought not to initiate others.
> «indvie» — to initiate: «indvie Andre i noget» = to initiate / let others in on something. («lænkt» is a scan slip for «tænkt», thought.) The pseudonym Johannes de silentio (John of silence) keeps faith with his name: dangerous thoughts are not to be spread to others.

Men Abraham er intet Blendværk, han har ikke sovet sig til sin Navnkundighed, han skylder den ikke en Lune af Skjæbnen.  
But Abraham is no illusion; he has not slept his way to his renown, he owes it to no caprice of fate.
> «Blendværk» — illusion, sham: «Blendværk» = a dazzling illusion, a sham. «Navnkundighed» = renown, fame. «Lune af Skjæbnen» = a caprice (whim) of fate; «Skjæbne» (modern «skæbne») = fate. Abraham's greatness, Kierkegaard insists, is earned and real — not luck, not the lazy fame of one who 'slept his way' to it.

Kan man da uforbeholdent tale om Abraham, uden at løbe Fare for, at en Enkelt gaaer hen i Forvildelse og gjør ligesaa?  
Can one, then, speak unreservedly about Abraham without running the risk that some individual will go astray and do likewise?
> «den Enkelte» — the single individual: «en Enkelt» / «den Enkelte» (the single individual) is one of Kierkegaard's signature categories: the one who stands alone before God, outside the crowd. «Forvildelse» = going astray, error. The danger is that an individual may take Abraham as a literal example and 'do likewise.'

Tør jeg det ikke, saa vil jeg reent tie om Abraham, og fremfor Alt vil jeg ikke nedsætte ham saaledes, at han netop derved bliver en Snare for de Svage.  
If I dare not, then I will be wholly silent about Abraham, and above all I will not so belittle him that he thereby becomes a snare for the weak.
> «Snare for de Svage» — a snare for the weak: «Snare» = snare, trap. «nedsætte» = to lower, belittle. «de Svage» = the weak. To preach Abraham loosely is to set a trap: it lets the weak imagine themselves licensed to imitate the deed without the faith that alone makes sense of it.

Gjør man nemlig Troen til Alt a: til det, den er, saa tænker jeg vel, man tør tale uden Fare derom i Frygt og Bæven.  
For if one makes faith everything — that is, makes it what it is — then I rather think one may speak of it without danger, in fear and trembling.

3. Udg. 8 vor Tid, der neppe extravagerer i Troen, og det er kun ved Troen man faaer Lighed med Abraham, ikke ved Mordet.  
[3rd ed., p. 8] our age, which scarcely runs to excess in faith — and it is only through faith that one attains likeness to Abraham, not through the murder.

Gjør man Kjærligheden til en flygtig Stemning, en vellystig Rørelse i et Menneske, saa lægger man kun Snarer for den Svage, naar man vil tale om Kjærlighedens Bedrifter.  
If one makes love a fleeting mood, a voluptuous stirring in a person, then one only lays snares for the weak when one wishes to speak of love's great deeds.
> «Kjærlighed» — love: «Kjærlighed» (period «kj», modern «kærlighed») = love. Kierkegaard draws a parallel: just as faith must be taken for its full reality, so must love. Reduce love to «en flygtig Stemning» (a fleeting mood) and its «Bedrifter» (great deeds, exploits) become a snare for the weak.

En forbigaaende Bevægelse har vel Enhver, men hvis derfor Enhver vilde gjøre det Forfærdelige, som Kjærligheder har helliget som udødelig Bedrift, da er Alt tabt, baade Bedriften og den Forvildede.  
A passing emotion everyone has, no doubt; but if for that reason everyone wished to do the dreadful thing that love has consecrated as an immortal deed, then all is lost — both the deed and the one led astray.
> «helliget» — consecrated: «helliget» = consecrated, hallowed; «Bedrift» = exploit, great deed. («Kjærligheder» here reads «Kjærligheden», love — a scan slip.) A fleeting feeling does not entitle anyone to the dreadful deeds love has hallowed; to act on it is to lose both deed and doer.

Der lod sig da vel tale om Abraham; thi det Store kan aldrig skade, naar det opfattes i sin Storhed; det er som et tveægget Sværd, der dræber og frelser.  
One might then well speak of Abraham; for the great can never do harm when it is grasped in its greatness — it is like a two-edged sword that slays and saves.

Hvis Loddet faldt paa mig at tale derom, da vilde jeg begynde med at vise, hvilken from og gudfrygtig Mand Abraham var, værdig at kaldes Guds Udvalgte.  
If the lot fell to me to speak of it, then I would begin by showing what a pious and God-fearing man Abraham was, worthy to be called God's chosen one.
> «gudfrygtig» — God-fearing: «from» = pious, devout; «gudfrygtig» = God-fearing; «Guds Udvalgte» = God's chosen one. «Loddet faldt paa mig» = the lot fell to me. Kierkegaard imagines how he would preach Abraham: first establishing his piety, so that the trial can be seen as a genuine test and not a delusion.

Kun en Saadan paalægges en saadan Prøve; men hvo er en Saadan?  
Only such a one is laid under such a trial; but who is such a one?
> «hvo» — who; «Prøve» — trial: «hvo» is an archaic, biblical 'who' (modern «hvem»). «Prøve» = trial, test (here the testing of Abraham). Only a man of Abraham's piety is given such a trial — and the sharp question 'who is such a one?' warns against any easy self-identification with him.

Dernæst vilde jeg skildre, hvorledes Abraham elskede.  
Next I would portray how Abraham loved.

Isaak.  
Isaac.

Til den Ende vilde jeg bede alle gode Aander staae mig bi, at min Tale maatte blive glødende som Faderkjærligheden er det.  
To that end I would pray all good spirits to stand by me, that my speech might become as glowing as fatherly love is.
> «staae … bi» — to stand by, assist: «at staae nogen bi» = to stand by someone, come to their aid (the separable verb «bistaae»). «glødende» = glowing, ardent; «Faderkjærligheden» = fatherly love. The speaker wants his words to burn as hot as a father's love — for only then can the sacrifice be felt.

Jeg haaber da at skulle skildre den saaledes, at der ikke blev mangen Fader i Kongens Riger og Lande, der turde paastaae, at han elskede saaledes.  
I would hope then to portray it in such a way that there would not be many a father in the king's realms and lands who would dare to claim that he loved like that.

Men elskede han ikke som Abraham, saa var jo enhver Tanke om at offre Isaak en Anfægtelse.  
But if he did not love as Abraham did, then every thought of sacrificing Isaac would be a temptation.
> «Anfægtelse» — spiritual temptation, trial: «Anfægtelse» is a strong theological term: a spiritual temptation or assault, a testing of faith from within (German «Anfechtung», a Lutheran key word). Crucially, without Abraham's full love the very idea of the sacrifice would be mere «Anfægtelse» — a temptation to resist, not a divine command to obey.

Dette kunde man allerede tale adskillige Søndage om, man behøver jo ikke at forhaste sig.  
About this one could already speak for several Sundays; there is, after all, no need to hurry.

Følgen vilde da blive, hvis der blev talet retteligen, at en Deel Fædre . slet ikke vilde forlange at høre mere, men indtil videre være glade ved, om det virkelig lykkedes dem at elske saaledes, som Abraham elskede.  
The result, if one spoke rightly, would then be that a number of fathers would not at all demand to hear more, but would be glad for the time being if they really managed to love as Abraham loved.
> «retteligen» — rightly, properly: «retteligen» = rightly, duly, in the proper way (an old adverbial form). («en Deel Fædre .» carries a stray period from the scan.) If the sermon were done rightly, fathers would stop clamoring for the dramatic ending and be content simply to learn to love as Abraham loved.

Var der da Een, som, efter at have hørt det Store, men ogsaa det Forfærdelige i Abrahams Daad, vovede at gaae frem ad Veien; da vilde jeg sadle min Hest og ride med ham.  
If there were then one who, having heard the greatness but also the dreadfulness of Abraham's deed, dared to go forward along the way, then I would saddle my horse and ride with him.
> «Daad» — deed: «Daad» = deed, exploit (a weightier word than «Gjerning»). «vovede» = dared (from «at vove», to venture, dare). «sadle» = to saddle. The speaker offers to accompany — not to praise from a safe distance — anyone bold enough to set out toward Abraham's deed.

Paa hver Station, indtil vi kom til Morija-Bjerget, vilde jeg forklare ham, at han endnu kunde vende om, kunde angre den Misforstaaelse, at han var kaldet til at forsøges i Huk saadan Strid, kunde bekjende, at han manglede Mod, saa Gud selv maatte tage Isaak, hvis han vilde have ham.  
At every stage, until we came to Mount Moriah, I would explain to him that he could still turn back, could repent the misunderstanding that he was called to be tested in such a struggle, could confess that he lacked the courage, so that God himself would have to take Isaac if he wanted him.

Det er min Overbeviisning, at et saadant Menneske ikke er forskudt, at han kan blive salig med alle Andre, men i Tiden bliver han det ikke.  
It is my conviction that such a man is not cast off, that he can be made blessed along with all others — but in time he will not be.
> «salig» — blessed; «forskudt» — cast off: «salig» = blessed, saved (eternally); «forskudt» = rejected, cast off, disowned. «i Tiden» = in time (the temporal world). The man who turns back is not damned eternally — he too can be «salig» — but within time, in this life, he will not attain the blessedness Abraham reached.

Vilde man, selv i de mest troende Tider, ikke dømme saaledes om et saadant Menneske?  
Would one not, even in the most believing ages, judge such a man in this way?

jeg har kjendt et Menneske, der engang kunde have frelst mit Liv, hvis han havde været højimodig.  
I have known a man who could once have saved my life, if he had been magnanimous.
> «højmodig» — magnanimous, high-minded: «højimodig» reads «højmodig» (modern «højmodig») = magnanimous, high-minded, great-souled. («kjendt» = period spelling of «kendt», known.) Kierkegaard slips in a personal note to illustrate the cost of lacking courage in another — preparing the contrast with the man who honestly confesses his limit.

Han | sagde ligefrem: ,jeg seer nok, hvad jeg kunde gjøre; men jeg vover det ikke, jeg frygter, at jeg senere skal mangle Kraft, at jeg skal fortryde det.”  
He said plainly: "I see well enough what I could do; but I do not dare it — I fear that I shall later lack the strength, that I shall regret it."
> «at vove» — to dare, venture: «jeg vover det ikke» = I do not dare it (from «at vove», to risk, venture). «ligefrem» = plainly, frankly. (The «|» is a column-rule artifact from the scan.) The man's honest refusal — fearing he will later lack «Kraft» (strength) and «fortryde» (regret) it — is the opposite of cowardice; it is candid self-knowledge.

Han var ikke høimodig, men hvo vilde dog derfor ikke vedblive at elske ham?  
He was not magnanimous; but who, for that reason, would cease to love him?
> «høimodig» — magnanimous: «høimodig» (period spelling, modern «højmodig») = magnanimous, here echoing «højimodig» two sentences earlier. The rhetorical question «hvo vilde … ikke» (who would not …) defends the honest man: his frank confession of fear does not forfeit love. «hvo» = archaic 'who.'

Naar jeg da saaledes havde talt, havde bevæget Tilhørerne, saa de dog havde fornummet Troens dialektiske Kampe og dens gigantiske Lidenskab, da vilde jeg ikke forskylde en Vildfarelse fra de Tilhørendes Side, at de skulde tænke: ,han har nu Troen i saa høi en Grad, os er det allerede nok, at holde i Skjøderne paa ham.”  
When I had thus spoken, and had moved the listeners so that they had after all sensed the dialectical struggles of faith and its gigantic passion, then I would not incur an error on the listeners' part, that they should think: "he now has faith to so high a degree — for us it is already enough to hold onto his coattails."
> «Troens dialektiske Kampe» — the dialectical struggles of faith: «dialektiske Kampe» = dialectical struggles — faith, for Kierkegaard, is not a placid feeling but an inward combat of opposed movements. «gigantiske Lidenskab» = gigantic passion. «holde i Skjøderne paa ham» = to hold onto his coattails — the false comfort of clinging to another's faith instead of acquiring one's own.

Jeg. vilde nemlig tilføje: ,jeg har ingenlunde Troen.  
For I would add: "I in no way have faith."
> «ingenlunde» — by no means: «ingenlunde» = by no means, in no way. (The stray period in «Jeg.» is a scan artifact.) This is the pseudonym's crucial self-positioning: Johannes de silentio admits he does not himself have faith — he can describe its movements from outside but cannot make them.

Jeg er af Naturen et kløgtigt Hoved og ethvert saadant ”har altid store Vanskeligheder ved at gjøre Troens Bevægelse, uden at jeg dog i og for sig vil tillægge den Vanskelighed noget Værd, der bragte det kløg; tige Hoved videre ved at overvinde den, end . til det Punkt, hvor det simpleste og enfoldigste Menneske lettere kommer hen.”  
I am by nature a shrewd head, and every such one always has great difficulty in making the movement of faith — though I will not in itself ascribe any worth to that difficulty, which brought the shrewd head, by overcoming it, no further than to the point that the simplest and most guileless person reaches more easily.
> «Troens Bevægelse» — the movement of faith: «Troens Bevægelse» (the movement of faith) is a defining phrase of the book — the leap by which the believer, after infinite resignation, receives everything back 'by virtue of the absurd.' «kløgtigt Hoved» = a shrewd, clever head. («kløg; tige» splits «kløgtige» across a scan break.) Cleverness is a hindrance: the simple person reaches faith more easily.
> «enfoldig» — simple, guileless: «enfoldig» = simple, guileless, single-minded (not pejorative here — closer to 'pure of heart'). The «kløgtigt Hoved» (clever head) labors to reach by struggle the very faith the «enfoldigste Menneske» (simplest person) attains «lettere» (more easily). Intellect earns no premium in the realm of faith.

Kjærligheden har dog i Digterne sine Præster, og stundom hører man en Røst, der veed at holde den i Hævd; men om Troen høres der intet Ord, hvo taler til denne Lidenskabs Ære?  
Love has, after all, its priests in the poets, and now and then one hears a voice that knows how to keep it in honor; but of faith no word is heard — who speaks in honor of this passion?
> «stundom» — now and then; faith as «Lidenskab»: «stundom» = sometimes, now and then (archaic). «holde i Hævd» = to keep in honor, hold in esteem. Strikingly, Kierkegaard calls faith «denne Lidenskab» (this passion): faith is not a doctrine to be known but a passion to be lived — and, unlike love, it has no poet-priests to celebrate it.

Philosophien gaaer videre.  
Philosophy goes further.

Theologien sidder sminket ved Vinduet og beiler til dens Gunst, falbyder sin Deilighed til Philosophien.  
Theology sits painted at the window and woos philosophy's favor, hawking her loveliness to philosophy.
> «sminket», «falbyder» — the harlot image: «sminket» = made up, painted (with cosmetics); «beiler til» = woos, courts; «falbyder» = offers for sale, hawks; «Deilighed» (modern «dejlighed») = loveliness. The deliberately scandalous image casts theology as a painted prostitute at the window, selling her charms to philosophy instead of keeping faith with her own subject.

Det skal være vanskeligt at forstaae Hegel, men at forstaae Abraham, det er en smal Sag.  
Understanding Hegel is supposed to be difficult; but understanding Abraham — that is a trifling matter.

At gaae ud over Hegel, det er et Underværk, men at komme ud over Abraham, det er det Letteste af Alt.  
To go beyond Hegel is a marvel; but to get beyond Abraham is the easiest thing of all.
> «ud over» — beyond: «at gaae ud over» / «at komme ud over» = to go / get beyond, surpass. «Underværk» = marvel, wonder. The irony sharpens: people think surpassing Hegel a miracle and surpassing Abraham trivial — whereas no one truly gets beyond Abraham at all, because no one reaches faith and then leaves it behind.

Jeg for mit Vedkommende har anvendt adskillig Tid paa at forstaae den hegelske Philosophi, troer ogsaa nogenlunde at have forstaaet den, er dumdristig nok til at mene, at, naar jeg, trods anvendt Umage, paa enkelte Steder ikke kan forstaae ham, saa har han nok ikke selv været ganske klar.  
For my part I have spent considerable time trying to understand the Hegelian philosophy, and I also believe I have more or less understood it; I am rash enough to suppose that, when in certain places I cannot understand him despite all my pains, he himself was probably not quite clear.
> «dumdristig» — rash, foolhardy: «dumdristig» = rashly bold, foolhardy (literally 'stupid-bold'). «Umage» = pains, trouble, effort. The dry joke: where the diligent reader cannot follow Hegel, perhaps the fault lies with Hegel's own lack of clarity — a barb at the reverence his system commanded in 1843 Copenhagen.

Alt Dette gjør jeg let, naturligt, mit Hoved lider ikke derved.  
All this I do easily, naturally; my head does not suffer from it.

Naar jeg derimod skal til at tænke over Abraham, da er jeg som tilintetgjort.  
But when I am to set about thinking over Abraham, then I am as if annihilated.
> «tilintetgjort» — annihilated: «tilintetgjort» (period «gj», modern «tilintetgjort/tilintetgøre») = annihilated, reduced to nothing. The chapter's final turn: Hegel he masters with ease, but Abraham reduces him to nothing — the measure of the abyss between speculative thought and the paradox of faith.

Jeg faaer i ethvert Moment Øie paa hiint uhyre Paradox, der er Indholdet af Abrahams Liv, i ethvert Moment bliver jeg stødt tilbage, og min Tanke kan, trods al sin Lidenskab, ikke trænge ind i det, ikke komme et Haarsbred videre.  
At every moment I catch sight of that monstrous paradox which is the content of Abraham's life; at every moment I am thrust back, and my thought, for all its passion, cannot penetrate into it, cannot come a hair's breadth further.
> «Paradoxet» — the paradox: «Paradox» is the master-word of this whole section: Abraham's faith is, for Johannes de silentio, the «uhyre Paradox» — the monstrous paradox that thought cannot mediate or explain away. Note the period orthography «hiint» (modern «hint», that) and «Haarsbred» (a hair's breadth), with doubled «aa» for the modern «å».

Jeg anstrenger enhver Muskel for at faae Vuet, i samme Øieblik bliver jeg paralytisk.  
I strain every muscle to get the leap's momentum, and in the very same instant I am paralyzed.
> «Vuet» — the swing, the momentum: «Vu» (here «Vuet», definite) is the swinging run-up or momentum a gymnast gathers before a leap — the bodily image Kierkegaard returns to for the «Bevægelse» (movement) of faith. Note the period spelling «Øieblik» (modern «øjeblik», instant), with «øi» for modern «øj».

Jeg er ikke ukjendt med hvad der i Verden er blevet beundret som stort og høimodigt, min Sjæl føler sit Slægtskab dermed, den er i al Ydmyghed forvisset om, at det ogsaa var min Sag, Helten stred, i Betragtningens Øieblik tilraaber jeg mig selv: jam tua res agitur.  
I am no stranger to what the world has admired as great and magnanimous; my soul feels its kinship with it, and is assured in all humility that it was my cause too for which the hero strove, so that in the moment of contemplation I call out to myself: jam tua res agitur.

I Helten tænker jeg mig ind, i Abraham kan jeg ikke tænke mig ind, naar jeg har naaet Høiden, falder jeg ned, da det, der bydes mig, er et Paradox.  
Into the hero I can think my way; into Abraham I cannot think my way — when I have reached the height, I fall down, for what is offered me is a paradox.
> «naar» — when: «naar» (modern «når») is 'when' in the temporal sense. The reflexive idiom «tænke sig ind i» means 'to think oneself into' — to enter imaginatively. The contrast is the engine of the passage: he can do this with the tragic hero but not with Abraham.

Dog derfor mener jeg ingenlunde, at Troen er noget Ringe, men tværtimod, at den er det Høieste, samt at det: er uredeligt af Philosophien at give noget Andet isteden og lade haant om Troen.  
Yet by this I by no means hold faith to be something lowly — on the contrary, that it is the highest, and that it is dishonest of philosophy to put something else in its place and to make light of faith.
> «Tro» — faith: «Tro» (here «Troen», definite) is faith — the central category of the book and what Johannes de silentio confesses he can describe but not perform. Note the stray colon after «det:» preserved from the 19th-century edition; «Philosophien» keeps its period capitalization and Greek-derived «ph».

Philosophien kan og skal ikke give Troen, men den skal forstaae sig selv, og vide hvad den byder og Intet tage og allermindst franarre Menneskene Noget, som var det Intet.  
Philosophy can and shall not give faith, but it shall understand itself, and know what it offers and take nothing away — least of all cheat people of something as though it were nothing.

Jeg er ikke ukjendt med Livets Nød og Farer, jeg frygter dem ikke, og gaaer dem freidigt imøde.  
I am no stranger to life's distress and dangers; I do not fear them, and go to meet them cheerfully.

Jeg er ikke ufortrolig med det Forfærdelige, min Hukommelse er en trofast Viv og min Phantlasi er, hvad jeg selv ikke er, en flittig lille Pige, der sidder hele Dagen stille ved sit Arbeide, og om Aftenen veed at; snakke saa kjønt for mig, at jeg maa see derpaa, uagtet det just ikke altid er Landskaber eller Blomster, eller Schåfer-Historier, hun maler.  
I am not unacquainted with the terrible; my memory is a faithful wife, and my imagination is — what I myself am not — a diligent little girl who sits quietly at her work all day long, and in the evening knows how to chat so charmingly to me that I must look on, even though what she paints is not always landscapes or flowers or pastoral idylls.
> «Phantasi» — imagination (and a printer's slip): «Phantasi» (modern «fantasi») is imagination. The forms «Phantlasi», «veed at; snakke», and «Schåfer» preserve typesetting quirks of the 19th-century edition verbatim. «Schåfer-Historier» = shepherd or pastoral tales (German «Schäfer», shepherd); «Viv» is an archaic, poetic word for wife.

Jeg har seet det under Øinene, jeg flyer det ikke ræd, men jeg veed meget vel, at, om jeg end gaaer det modig imøde, mit Mod dog ikke er Troens Mod og Intet at sammenligne med dette.  
I have looked it in the eye; I do not flee it in terror — yet I know very well that, even though I go to meet it bravely, my courage is still not the courage of faith and is nothing to be compared with it.
> «Troens Mod» — the courage of faith: «Mod» is courage. The whole sentence sets natural human courage against «Troens Mod», the courage of faith, which is qualitatively higher. Note «seet» (modern «set», seen) with the doubled vowel and «Øinene» (modern «øjnene», the eyes).

Jeg kan ikke gjøre Troens Bevægelse, jeg kan ikke lukke Øinene og styrte mig tillidsfuld i det Absurde, det er mig en Umulighed, men jeg roser mig ikke deraf.  
I cannot make faith's movement; I cannot shut my eyes and plunge trustingly into the absurd — for me it is an impossibility, but I do not pride myself on that.
> «Troens Bevægelse» — the movement of faith: «Bevægelse» (movement) is a key technical term: faith is enacted as a 'movement' the knight performs, like a leap or a swimmer's stroke. «det Absurde» (the absurd) is what faith plunges into — Abraham believes «i Kraft af det Absurde», by virtue of the absurd. Period spelling «gjøre» (modern «gøre», to make/do) with «gj».

Jeg er overbeviist om, at Gud er Kjærlighed; denne Tanke har for mig en oprindelig lyrisk Gyldighed.  
I am convinced that God is love; this thought has for me an original lyrical validity.

Naar den er mig nærværende, er jeg uudsigelig salig, naar den er fraværende, længes jeg efter den heftigere, end den Elskende efter sin Gjenstand; men jeg troer ikke, dette Mød mangler mig.  
When it is present to me I am unspeakably blissful; when it is absent I long for it more violently than the lover for the object of his love — yet I do not believe that this courage is what I lack.
> «Mød» — a printer's slip for «Mod» (courage): «Mød» here is a typographic slip for «Mod» (courage), preserved verbatim from the edition; the sense is 'this courage is not what I lack.' Note «troer» (modern «tror», believe) and «Gjenstand» (object) with period «gj»; «uudsigelig» = unspeakable, ineffable.

Guds Kjærlighed er mig, baade i direkte og omvendt Forstand, incommensurabel for hele Virkeligheden.  
God's love is to me, both in the direct and in the inverse sense, incommensurable with the whole of reality.
> «incommensurabel» — incommensurable: A learned loan-word: God's love cannot be measured by, or set in proportion to, finite reality — there is no common measure. «Kjærlighed» (modern «kærlighed», love) shows the period «kj»; «Virkelighed» = reality, actuality.

Jeg er ikke. feig nok til derfor at klynke og klage, men heller ei lumsk nok til at negte, at Troen er noget langt Højere.  
I am not cowardly enough on that account to whimper and complain, but neither am I sly enough to deny that faith is something far higher.
> «negte» — to deny: «negte» (modern «nægte») is 'to deny.' Note the stray period after «ikke.» preserved verbatim from the edition, and «heller ei» (modern «heller ej»), an archaic 'nor.' «Højere» = higher, the comparative that keeps measuring his own courage against faith.

Jeg kan godt udholde at leve paa min Viis, jeg er glad og tilfreds, men min Glæde er ikke Troens og er dog i Sammenligning med denne ulykkelig.  
I can well endure to live in my own way; I am glad and content, yet my joy is not faith's, and is, in comparison with it, unhappy.

Jeg. besværer ikke Gud med mine Smaa-Sorger, det Enkelte bekymrer mig ikke, jeg stirrer kun paa min Kjærlighed, og holder dens jomfruelige Flamme reen og klar; Troen er overbeviist om, at Gud bekymrer sig om det Mindste.  
I do not trouble God with my petty sorrows; the particular does not concern me, I gaze only upon my love and keep its virginal flame pure and clear — faith is convinced that God cares about the smallest thing.
> «det Enkelte» — the particular, the single thing: «det Enkelte» is the single, particular thing or detail — to be set against the later «den Enkelte» (the single individual) so important to Kierkegaard. The point of contrast: the resigned man overlooks particulars, whereas faith trusts that God cares about the very smallest. Note again the stray period after «Jeg.» kept from the edition.

Jeg er fornøjet med i dette Liv at være viet til venstre Haand, Troen er ydmyg nok til at forlange den højre; thi at det er Ydmyghed, det negter jeg ikke og skal aldrig negte.  
I am content in this life to be wedded with the left hand; faith is humble enough to demand the right — for that this is humility I do not deny and shall never deny.

Mon virkelig Enhver i min Samtid er istand til at gjøre Troens Bevægelser?  
Is everyone in my own age really capable of making faith's movements?
> «Mon» — I wonder whether: «Mon» opens a rhetorical, doubting question — 'I wonder whether…', 'can it really be that…'. Kierkegaard's irony at his «Samtid» (contemporaries), who claim to 'go further' than faith without having reached it. «istand til» (modern «i stand til») = capable of.

Dersom jeg ikke har taget meget feil af den, da er den snarere tilbøjelig til at være stoll af at gjøre hvad den vel end ikke troer mig istand til 2: det Ufuldkomne.  
If I have not been much mistaken about it, it is rather inclined to be proud of doing what it probably does not even believe me capable of, namely: the imperfect.
> «Dersom» — if: «Dersom» is the more formal conditional 'if' (alongside «hvis»). Note the editorial quirks kept verbatim: «stoll» (a slip for «stolt», proud) and «2:» (a misprinted «:», roughly 'that is to say' / namely). The barb: the age is proud of achieving precisely «det Ufuldkomne», the imperfect.

Det er min Sjæl imod at gjøre, hvad der saa ofte skeer, at tale umenneskeligt om det Store, som var nogle Aartusinder en uhyre Afstand; jeg taler helst menneskelig derom, som var det skeet igaar, og lader kun Storheden selv være Afstanden, der enten opløfter eller dømmer.  
It is repugnant to my soul to do what so often happens — to speak inhumanly of greatness, as though a few thousand years were a monstrous distance; I would rather speak of it humanly, as though it had happened yesterday, and let only the greatness itself be the distance that either uplifts or judges.
> «det Store» — greatness, the great: «det Store» (literally 'the great') is greatness — what Kierkegaard insists on speaking of «menneskelig» (humanly), as if it happened yesterday, rather than safely distancing it in the past. «Aartusinder» = millennia («aar», year + «tusinde», thousand); «skeer/skeet» (modern «sker/sket») = happens/happened.

Hvis jeg da (i Qvalitet af tragisk Helt; thi højere kan jeg ikke komme) var bleven tilsagt til en saadan extraordinair Kongereise som den til Morija-Bjerget, jeg veed vel, hvad jeg havde gjort.  
If then (in the capacity of a tragic hero — for higher I cannot rise) I had been summoned to such an extraordinary royal journey as the one to Mount Moriah, I know well what I should have done.
> «den tragiske Helt» — the tragic hero: The «tragiske Helt» (tragic hero) is Johannes de silentio's foil for Abraham: the hero stays within the universal, the ethical, and can be understood; Abraham, the knight of faith, exceeds it. «Qvalitet» (modern «Kvalitet») keeps the period «Qv»; «Morija-Bjerget» is Mount Moriah, where Abraham was to sacrifice Isaac (Genesis 22).

Jeg havde ikke været feig nok til at blive hjemme, havde heller ikke ligget og drevet paa Landeveien, havde heller ei glemt Kniven, at der kunde blive lidt Sinkeri, jeg er temmelig forvisset om, at jeg havde været paa Klokkeslettet, havt Alt i Orden — maaskee var jeg snarere kommen for tidlig, at det snart kunde være overstaaet.  
I should not have been cowardly enough to stay home, nor would I have loitered and dawdled along the highroad, nor forgotten the knife so as to cause a little delay; I am fairly sure I should have been there on the stroke of the hour, everything in order — indeed, perhaps I should rather have come too early, so that it might soon be over and done with.
> «Kniven» — the knife; «Sinkeri» — a delay: The knife of Genesis 22, which Johannes imagines himself dutifully remembering. «Sinkeri» = a hold-up or delay (from «sinke», to delay). The whole sentence parodies the merely punctual, efficient tragic hero — rushing to get the sacrifice 'over with' — against Abraham's three-day faith. «havt» (modern «haft») = had.

Men jeg veed tillige, hvad jeg fremdeles havde gjort.  
But I know too what I should have gone on to do.

Jeg havde i samme Øieblik, som jeg besteg Hesten, sagt til mig selv: nu er Alt tabt, Gud fordrer Isaak, jeg offrer ham, med ham al min Glæde — dog er Gud Kjærlighed og vedbliver at være det for mig; thi i Timeligheden kan Gud og jeg ikke tale sammen, vi have intet Sprog tilfælles.  
In the very moment I mounted the horse, I should have said to myself: now all is lost, God demands Isaac, I sacrifice him, and with him all my joy — yet God is love and continues to be so for me; for in temporality God and I cannot speak together, we have no language in common.
> «Timeligheden» — temporality: «Timeligheden» is temporality, the finite, time-bound world — opposed to the eternal. The resigned man's tragedy: in time he and God have «intet Sprog tilfælles», no common language. «vedbliver» = continues; «have» (modern «har») is the older plural verb form. Contrast Abraham, who keeps Isaac precisely within temporality.

Maaskee vil En eller Anden i vor Tid være taabelig nok, misundelig nok paa det Store, til at ville indbilde sig og mig, at hvis jeg virkelig havde gjort dette, da havde jeg gjort det endnu større, end hvad Abraham gjorde; thi min uhyre Resignation var langt mere ideal og poetisk end Abrahams Smaalighed.  
Perhaps some one or other in our age will be foolish enough, envious enough of greatness, as to want to persuade himself and me that, if I had really done this, I should have done something even greater than what Abraham did — for my immense resignation was far more ideal and poetic than Abraham's pettiness.
> «Resignation» — infinite resignation: «Resignation» — the «uendelige Resignation» (infinite resignation) — is the movement of the knight of resignation, who renounces the finite in order to rest in the eternal. It is the last stage before faith, but not yet faith. The irony here: the age fancies that resignation, being 'more poetic', outdoes Abraham's «Smaalighed» (apparent pettiness/small-mindedness) — but resignation is only the surrogate for faith (see next sentence).

Og dog er dette den største Usandhed; thi min uhyre Resignation var Surrogatet for Troen.  
And yet this is the greatest untruth; for my immense resignation was merely the surrogate for faith.
> «Surrogatet for Troen» — the surrogate for faith: The pivotal claim: infinite resignation is not greater than faith but a «Surrogat» (substitute, ersatz) for it. Resignation gives up the finite; faith, by virtue of the absurd, receives the finite back. «Usandhed» = untruth, falsehood («u-» negating + «Sandhed», truth).

Jeg kunde da heller ikke gjøre mere end den uendelige Bevægelse for at finde mig selv og atter hvile i mig selv.  
Nor could I then do more than the infinite movement, in order to find myself and rest again in myself.
> «den uendelige Bevægelse» — the infinite movement: The 'infinite movement' is the movement of resignation: it carries the self into infinity and lets it «hvile i mig selv» (rest in itself). Crucially it ends in the self — whereas faith's second movement returns to God and the finite. «uendelig» = infinite («u-» + «Ende», end: endless).

Jeg havde da heller ikke elsket Isaak, saaledes som Abraham elskede.  
Nor would I then have loved Isaac as Abraham loved.

At jeg var resolut til at gjøre Bevægelsen, kunde bevise mit Mod menneskeligt talt, at jeg elskede ham af min ganske Sjæl er Forudsætningen, uden hvilken det Hele bliver en Misgjerning, men jeg elskede dog ikke som Abraham; thi da havde jeg holdt igjen selv i det sidste Minut, uden at jeg derfor var kommen for silde paa Morija-Bjerget.  
That I was resolute enough to make the movement could prove my courage, humanly speaking; that I loved him with my whole soul is the presupposition without which the whole thing becomes an outrage — but I still did not love as Abraham did, for then I would have held back even at the last minute, without therefore coming too late to Mount Moriah.
> «Forudsætning» — presupposition; «Misgjerning» — outrage: «Forudsætning» = presupposition, precondition. Without genuine love for Isaac the act would be a «Misgjerning» — a misdeed, an outrage, even a crime («mis-» + «Gjerning», deed, period «gj»). «holdt igjen» = held back; «for silde» (modern «for sent») = too late. The distinction: Abraham's love is so whole that he could hold back to the last and still not be late.

Jeg havde fremdeles ved min Adfærd fordærvet hele Historien; thi hvis jeg havde faaet Isaak igjen, da havde jeg været i Forlegenhed.  
Moreover, by my conduct I should have spoiled the whole story; for if I had gotten Isaac back, I should have been in an embarrassment.

Det, der faldt Abraham lettest, vilde falde mig svært, det igjen at være glad ved Isaak! thi den, der med hele sin Sjæls Uendelighed, proprio motu et propriis auspiciis, har gjort den uendelige Bevægelse og ikke kan gjøre mere, han beholder kun Isaak i Smerten.  
What came easiest to Abraham would come hard to me — to be glad once more in Isaac! for he who, with the whole infinity of his soul, proprio motu et propriis auspiciis, has made the infinite movement and can do no more, he keeps Isaac only in pain.

Men hvad gjorde Abraham?  
But what did Abraham do?

Han kom hverken for tidlig eller for sildig.  
He came neither too early nor too late.

Han besteg Æslet, han reed langsom hen ad Veien.  
He mounted the ass, he rode slowly along the road.
> «reed» — rode (past tense): «reed» (modern «red») is the past tense of «ride» (to ride), with the period doubled vowel. «Æslet» = the ass, donkey; «besteg» is the past of «bestige» (to mount, ascend). The slowness — «langsom hen ad Veien» — is Kierkegaard's image of Abraham's three unhurried days of faith.

I al den Tid troede han; han troede, at Gud ikke vilde fordre Isaak af ham, medens han dog var villig til at offre ham, naar det forlangtes.  
All that time he believed; he believed that God would not demand Isaac of him, while he was nevertheless willing to sacrifice him whenever it was required.
> «troede» — believed (the double posture of faith): «troede» is the past of «troe» (modern «tro», to believe). This sentence states the paradox of faith exactly: Abraham simultaneously believed God would not take Isaac and was willing to give him up. «fordre» = to demand; «medens» (modern «mens») = while; «forlangtes» = was required (passive).

Han troede i Kraft af det Absurde; thi menneskelig Beregning kunde der ikke være Tale om, og det var jo det Absurde, at Gud, som fordrede det af ham, i næste Øieblik skulde. tilbagekalde Fordringen.  
He believed by virtue of the absurd; for of human calculation there could be no question, and it was precisely the absurd that God, who demanded it of him, should in the next moment recall the demand.
> «i Kraft af det Absurde» — by virtue of the absurd: The book's defining formula: Abraham believes «i Kraft af det Absurde» — by virtue of the absurd, beyond all «menneskelig Beregning» (human calculation). The absurd is that God demands Isaac and yet that Abraham will keep him. Note the stray period after «skulde.» kept from the edition; «Fordringen» = the demand.

Han besteg Bjerget, endnu i det Øieblik da Kniven blinkede, da troede han — at Gud ikke vilde fordre Isaak.  
He climbed the mountain; even in the moment when the knife gleamed, then he believed — that God would not demand Isaac.

Han blev da vel overrasket ved Udfaldet, men han havde gjennem en Dobbelt-Bevægelse naaet hen til sin første Tilstand, og derfor modtog han Isaak gladere end den første Gang.  
He was indeed surprised at the outcome, but through a double movement he had arrived back at his original state, and so he received Isaac more gladly than the first time.
> «Dobbelt-Bevægelse» — the double movement: The 'double movement' is the structure of faith: first the infinite movement of resignation (giving Isaac up), then, by virtue of the absurd, the movement back to the finite (receiving Isaac again). Because of the double movement Abraham gets Isaac back «gladere» — more gladly — than the first time. «Udfaldet» = the outcome; «gjennem» (modern «gennem») = through.

Lad os gaae videre.  
Let us go further.

Vi lade Isaak virkelig blive offret.  
Let us suppose that Isaac was actually sacrificed.
> «Vi lade» — let us / suppose (old plural): «lade» here is the older plural present of «lade» (to let) — 'we let / let us suppose.' Modern Danish would drop the «-e» («vi lader»). Kierkegaard now pushes the thought experiment: even if Isaac really had been killed, Abraham's faith would still have believed — for «her i Verden», here in this world (next sentences).

Abraham troede.  
Abraham believed.

Han troede ikke, at han engang skulde blive salig hisset, men at han skulde blive lyksalig her i Verden.  
He did not believe that he would one day be blessed in the hereafter, but that he would be made happy here in this world.
> «hisset» — yonder, in the hereafter: «hisset» means 'over there, yonder' — here the next world, the hereafter — set against «her i Verden», here in this world. Kierkegaard's sharp point: Abraham's faith is not a deferred otherworldly consolation but the expectation of happiness within finite life. «salig» = blessed; «lyksalig» = supremely happy, beatific.

Gud kunde give ham en ny Isaak, kalde den offrede tillive.  
God could give him a new Isaac, could call the sacrificed one back to life.

Han troede i Kraft af det Absurde; thi al menneskelig Beregning var jo forlængst ophørt.  
He believed by virtue of the absurd; for all human calculation had long since ceased.

At Sorg kan gjøre et Menneske sindssvagt, det seer man, og det er tungt nok; at der gives en VillieKraft, der kan knibe saa yderligt op mod Vinden, at den frelser Forstanden, om end Mennesket bliver lidt underligt, det seer man ogsaa,.… jeg agter ikke at nedsætte det, men at kunne tabe sin Forstand og dermed hele den Endelighed, hvis Vexel-Mægler den er, og da i Kraft af det Absurde vinde netop den samme Endelighed, det forfærder min Sjæl, men derfor siger jeg ikke, at det er noget Ringe, da det tværtimod er det eneste Vidunder.  
That sorrow can make a person insane, one sees, and that is heavy enough; that there exists a strength of will that can luff so extremely close into the wind that it saves the understanding, even if the person becomes a little strange, one sees too… I do not mean to disparage it; but to be able to lose one's understanding and with it the whole of finitude, of which it is the broker, and then by virtue of the absurd to win back precisely that same finitude — that appalls my soul, yet I do not therefore say it is something lowly, since on the contrary it is the one and only wonder.
> «Forstand» — understanding; «Endelighed» — finitude: «Forstand» = understanding, reason; «Endelighed» = finitude (the finite world), of which the understanding is the «Vexel-Mægler» — the money-changer or broker who trades in it. The image «knibe op mod Vinden» is from sailing (to luff, sail close to the wind). The wonder: to lose the understanding and finitude, then by the absurd to win the very same finitude back. Note «seer» (modern «ser»), «VillieKraft» (modern «viljekraft»), and the stray «,.…» kept verbatim.
> «Vidunder» — wonder, miracle: «Vidunder» = wonder, marvel, miracle. Faith is for Johannes de silentio «det eneste Vidunder» — the single, unique wonder — precisely because it regains the finite by virtue of the absurd. «forfærder» = appalls, terrifies («Frygt og Bæven», fear and trembling); «Ringe» = lowly, slight.

Man mener i Almindelighed, at det, Troen frembringer, ikke er Kunstværk, at det er grovt og plumpt Arbeide, kun for de mere klodsede Naturer; dog er det langt anderledes.  
It is commonly supposed that what faith brings forth is no work of art, that it is coarse and clumsy labor, fit only for the more lumpish natures; yet it is far otherwise.

Troens Dialektik er det Fineste og det Mærkværdigste af Alt, den har en Elevation, som jeg vel kan gjøre mig en Forestilling om, men heller ikke mere.  
Faith's dialectic is the finest and most remarkable of all; it has an elevation of which I can indeed form an idea, but nothing more.
> «Troens Dialektik» — the dialectic of faith: Against the common prejudice that faith is crude, Johannes calls «Troens Dialektik» the subtlest of all — its movements are more refined than anything in philosophy. He can «gjøre mig en Forestilling om» (form an idea of) its «Elevation» (loftiness) but, lacking faith, can do no more than picture it. «Mærkværdigste» = most remarkable, most extraordinary.

Jeg kan gjøre det store Tramplin-Spring, hvorved jeg gaaer over i Uendeligheden, min Ryg er som en Liniedandsers, vreden i min Barndom, derfor falder det mig let, jeg kan een, to, tre gaae paa Hovedet i Tilværelsen, men det næste kan jeg ikke; thi det Vidunderlige kan jeg ikke gjøre; men kun forbauses ved.  
I can make the great trampoline-leap by which I pass over into infinity; my back is like a tightrope-walker's, twisted in my childhood, so it comes easily to me — one, two, three, I can stand on my head in existence — but the next thing I cannot do, for the wondrous I cannot do, but only marvel at.
> «Spring» — the leap; «Tilværelsen» — existence: The acrobatic «Spring» (leap) into «Uendeligheden» (infinity) is resignation, which Johannes can perform like a gymnast. The harder 'next' movement — landing back in «Tilværelsen» (existence) as the knight of faith does — he can only «forbauses ved» (be amazed at). «Liniedandser» (modern «linedanser») = tightrope-walker; «vreden» = twisted (past participle of «vride»).

Ja dersom Abraham i det Øieblik, han svingede sit Been over Æselets Ryg, har sagt til sig selv: nu er Isaak tabt, jeg kunde ligesaa gjerne offre ham her hjemme |. som reise den lange Vei til Morija — saa behøver jeg ikke Abraham, medens jeg nu bøjer mig syv Gange for hans Navn og halvfjerdsindstyve Gange for hans Gjerning.  
Indeed, if Abraham, in the moment he swung his leg over the ass's back, had said to himself: now Isaac is lost, I might just as well sacrifice him here at home as travel the long road to Moriah — then I have no need of Abraham, whereas now I bow seven times before his name and seventy times before his deed.
> «halvfjerdsindstyve» — seventy (vigesimal counting): «halvfjerdsindstyve» is the full old form of seventy (modern «halvfjerds»), built on Danish's base-20 counting: literally 'three-and-a-half times twenty.' The 'seven / seventy times' echoes the biblical idiom of complete reverence. Note the stray «|.» preserved verbatim from the edition; «Gjerning» (deed) keeps the period «gj».

Dette har han nemlig ikke gjort, hvad jeg kan bevise deraf, at han blev glad ved at modtage Isaak, ret inderlig glad, at han ingen Forberedelse behøvede, ingen Tid til at samle sig paa Endeligheden og dens Glæde.  
For this he did not do, as I can prove from the fact that he became glad at receiving Isaac — heartily glad — that he needed no preparation, no time to collect himself upon finitude and its joy.

Hvis det ikke stod sig saaledes med Abraham, da havde han maaskee elsket Gud, men ikke troet; thi den, der elsker Gud uden Tro, han reflekterer paa sig selv, den, der elsker Gud troende, han reflekterer paa Gud.  
If it had not stood thus with Abraham, then perhaps he would have loved God but not believed; for he who loves God without faith reflects upon himself, while he who loves God believing reflects upon God.
> «reflektere paa» — to reflect upon: The decisive distinction of the passage: love of God «uden Tro» (without faith) turns back upon the self, whereas believing love «reflekterer paa Gud» — is directed wholly toward God. This is why resignation, which rests in the self, falls short of faith, which rests in God. «stod sig saaledes med» = stood thus with, was the case with.

Paa denne Spidse staaer Abraham.  
On this pinnacle stands Abraham.

Det sidste Stadium, han taber af Sigte, er den uendelige Resignation.  
The last stage he loses sight of is infinite resignation.
> «Stadium» — stage; «den uendelige Resignation»: «Stadium» = stage (Kierkegaard's later «Stadier paa Livets Vei», Stages on Life's Way). The point: Abraham passes beyond even «den uendelige Resignation» — infinite resignation is the last stage he leaves behind on the way to faith. «taber af Sigte» = loses sight of, leaves behind.

Han gaaer virkelig videre og kommer til Troen; thi alle disse Vrængbilleder af Troen, den jammerlige lunkne Dorskhed, der tænker: det har vel ingen Nød, det er ikke værd at sørge før Tiden; det usle Haab, der siger: man kan ikke vide, hvad der vil skee, det var dog muligt — disse Vrængbilleder høre hjemme i Livets Elendighed, og dem har allerede den uendelige Resignation uendelig foragtet.  
He really does go further and comes to faith; for all these caricatures of faith — the wretched, lukewarm sloth that thinks: there is surely no danger, it is not worth grieving before the time; the paltry hope that says: one cannot know what will happen, it might still be possible — all these caricatures belong to the misery of life, and infinite resignation has already infinitely despised them.
> «gaae videre» — to go further: «gaae videre» (to go further) is the phrase Kierkegaard turns ironically against his age throughout the section: people boast of 'going further' than faith. Here, by contrast, Abraham genuinely goes further — beyond resignation to faith. «Vrængbilleder» = distortions, caricatures (literally 'grimace-pictures'); «Elendighed» = misery, wretchedness.

Abraham kan jeg ikke forstaae, jeg kan i en vis Forstand Intet lære af ham uden at forbauses.  
Abraham I cannot understand; in a certain sense I can learn nothing from him except to be amazed.

Naar man indbilder sig, at man ved at betænke Udfaldet af hiin Historie, skulde lade sig bevæge til at troe, saa bedrager man sig selv, og vil bedrage Gud for Troens første Bevægelse; man vil suge Leve-Viisdom ud af Paradoxet.  
When one imagines that by pondering the outcome of that story one should be moved to believe, one deceives oneself and would cheat God of faith's first movement; one would suck worldly wisdom out of the paradox.
> «Leve-Viisdom» — worldly prudence: «Leve-Viisdom» (modern «leve-visdom») is rule-of-thumb worldly wisdom, prudence for getting on in life — the very opposite of faith. To extract it from the «Paradox» is to betray faith's «første Bevægelse» (first movement). «betænke» = to ponder, consider; «bedrage … for» = to cheat someone of something; «hiin» (modern «hin») = that (yonder).

Maaskee lykkes det En og Anden; thi vor Tid bliver ikke staaende ved Troen, ikke ved dens Mirakel, at gjøre Vand til Viin, den gaaer videre, den gjør Viin til Vand.  
Perhaps one or another succeeds in it; for our age does not stop at faith, at its miracle of turning water into wine — it goes further, it turns wine into water.

Var det dog ikke bedst, at blive staaende ved Troen, og er det ikke oprørende, at Enhver vil gaae videre?  
Would it not after all be best to stop at faith, and is it not outrageous that everyone wants to go further?

Naar man i vor Tid, og det forkyndes jo paa forskjellig Maade, ikke vil blive staaende ved Kjærligheden, hvor kommer man da hen?  
When, in our age — and this is indeed proclaimed in various ways — one will not stop at love, where then does one end up?

Til jordisk Kløgt, smaalig Beregning, til Usselhed og Elendighed, til alt Det, der kan gjøre Menneskets guddommelige Herkomst tvivlsom.  
At earthly cunning, petty calculation, at meanness and misery, at all that can render man's divine origin doubtful.
> «guddommelig Herkomst» — divine origin: «Herkomst» = origin, descent, lineage; «guddommelig» = divine. To 'go further' than love is to sink into «jordisk Kløgt» (earthly shrewdness) and «Beregning» (calculation), casting doubt on the very thing — humanity's divine origin — that faith affirms. «Usselhed» = wretchedness, meanness.

Var det ikke bedst, at man blev staaende ved Troen, og at den, der staaer, saae til, at han ikke faldt; thi Troens Bevægelse maa bestandig gjøres i Kraft af det Absurde, dog vel at mærke saaledes, at man ikke taber Endeligheden, men vinder den heel og holden.  
Would it not be best to stop at faith, and that he who stands take heed lest he fall — for faith's movement must constantly be made by virtue of the absurd, yet, mark well, in such a way that one does not lose finitude but gains it whole and entire?
> «vinde Endeligheden heel og holden» — to gain finitude whole and entire: The summary of faith's double movement: it is made «i Kraft af det Absurde» yet so that finitude is not lost but won back «heel og holden» — wholly and completely. The phrase echoes 1 Corinthians 10:12, «den, der staaer, saae til, at han ikke faldt» (let him who stands take heed lest he fall). «bestandig» = constantly, perpetually.

Jeg for mit Vedkommende kan vel beskrive Troens Bevægelser, men jeg kan ikke' gjøre dem.  
For my own part, I can indeed describe faith's movements, but I cannot make them.
> «beskrive» vs. «gjøre» — to describe vs. to make: The confession at the heart of the pseudonym Johannes de silentio: he can «beskrive» (describe) faith's movements but not «gjøre» (perform) them — the gap dramatized by the swimming image that follows. Note the stray apostrophe in «ikke'» preserved verbatim from the edition; «for mit Vedkommende» = for my own part, as for me.

Naar man vil lære at gjøre Svømmebevægelserne, da kan man lade sig hænge i Seler under Loftet, man beskriver vel Bevægelserne, men man svømmer ikke; saaledes kan jeg beskrive Troens Bevægelser, men naar jeg bliver kastet ud i Vandet, da svømmer jeg vel (thi jeg hører ikke til Vaderne), men jeg gjør andre Bevægelser, jeg gjør Uendelighedens Bevægelser, medens Troen gjør det Modsatte, gjør, efter at have gjort Uendelighedens Bevægelser, Endelighedens.  
When one wants to learn to make the swimming-movements, one can let oneself be hung in a harness from the ceiling; one describes the movements well enough, but one does not swim — so too I can describe faith's movements, but when I am thrown into the water I do indeed swim (for I am no mere wader), only I make other movements: I make the movements of infinity, whereas faith does the opposite — having made the movements of infinity, it makes those of finitude.
> The swimmer: infinity's vs. finitude's movements: The image crystallizes the whole section. Johannes can really swim — make «Uendelighedens Bevægelser», the movements of infinity (resignation) — he is no «Vader» (a wader, one who only paddles in the shallows). But faith, after the movements of infinity, makes «Endelighedens» — those of finitude, returning to the finite. «Seler» = harness, braces; «Loftet» = the ceiling.

Held den, der kan gjøre disse Bevægelser, han gjør det Vidunderlige, og jeg skal aldrig blive træt af at beundre ham, om det er Abraham eller det er Trællen i Abrahams Huus, om det er en Professor i Philosophi eller en stakkels Tjenestepige, er mig absolut ligegyldigt, jeg seer blot paa Bevægelserne.  
Hail to him who can make these movements — he does the wondrous thing, and I shall never grow tired of admiring him; whether it be Abraham or the slave in Abraham's house, whether a professor of philosophy or a poor servant-girl, is absolutely indifferent to me — I look only at the movements.
> «Held den» — hail to him; the knight may be anyone: «Held den, der…» is a blessing-formula, 'fortunate is he who…', 'hail to him who…'. Kierkegaard's leveling point: the knight of faith may be a «Træl» (thrall, slave) or a «Tjenestepige» (servant-girl) as readily as a professor — faith is invisible to social rank, legible only in the «Bevægelser». «ligegyldigt» = a matter of indifference.

Men dem seer jeg ogsaa paa, og lader mig ikke narre, hverken af mig selv eller af noget Menneske.  
But at those I do look, and I let myself be fooled neither by myself nor by any human being.

Ridderne af den uendelige Resignation kjender man let, deres Gang er svævende, dristig.  
The knights of infinite resignation are easily recognized: their gait is hovering, bold.
> «Ridder» — the knight (of resignation / of faith): «Ridder» = knight. Kierkegaard's two figures: the «Ridder af den uendelige Resignation» (knight of infinite resignation) and the «Troens Ridder» (knight of faith). The knight of resignation is easy to spot — his bearing is «svævende» (hovering, floating), conspicuously above the world; the knight of faith, by contrast, is indistinguishable from a philistine (next sentences). «Gang» = gait, walk.

De derimod, der bære Troens Klenodie, skuffe let, fordi deres Ydre har en paafaldende "Lighed med det, som saavel den uendelige Resignation som Troen dybt foragter — med Spidsborgerlighed.  
Those, on the other hand, who bear faith's jewel easily deceive, because their outward appearance bears a striking resemblance to what both infinite resignation and faith deeply despise — to philistinism.
> «Spidsborgerlighed» — philistinism; «Klenodie» — jewel: «Spidsborgerlighed» = narrow bourgeois philistinism, smug small-town respectability — what both resignation and faith despise. The paradox of the knight of faith: outwardly he looks exactly like a philistine, so he «skuffe let» (easily deceive). «Klenodie» = treasure, jewel; «bære» and «skuffe» keep the old plural verb forms. The stray opening quote-mark before «Lighed» is preserved verbatim from the edition.

Jeg tilstaaer oprigtigt, jeg har i min Praxis ikke fundet noget paalideligt Exemplar, uden at jeg derfor vil negte, at maaskee hvert andet Menneske er et saadant Exemplar.  
I confess sincerely that in my practice I have not found a single reliable specimen, without therefore wishing to deny that perhaps every other person is such a specimen.

Imidlertid har jeg dog i flere Aar eftersporet det forgjæves.  
Meanwhile I have for several years tracked it in vain.

Man reiser i Almindelighed Verden rundt for at see Floder og Bjerge, nye Stjerner, spraglede Fugle, vanskabte Fiske, latterlige Menneskeracer, man hengiver sig til den dyriske Stupor, der gloer paa Tilværelsen, og man mener at have seet Noget.  
People generally travel the world round to see rivers and mountains, new stars, gaudy birds, misshapen fishes, ridiculous races of men; they give themselves over to the animal stupor that stares at existence, and they fancy they have seen something.
> «den dyriske Stupor» — animal stupor: «dyrisk» = bestial, animal («Dyr» = beast); «Stupor» a learned loan for dull, open-mouthed amazement. Kierkegaard contrasts the tourist's idle gawking at exotic sights with the one true marvel worth traveling for — a knight of faith (next sentence). «spraglede» = gaudy, motley; «vanskabte» = misshapen, deformed.

Dette beskjæftiger mig ikke.  
This does not occupy me.

Vidste jeg derimod, hvor der levede en saadan Troens Ridder, da vilde jeg paa min Fod vandre til ham; thi dette Vidunder beskjæftiger mig absolut.  
If, on the other hand, I knew where such a knight of faith lived, I would journey on foot to him; for this wonder absolutely occupies me.
> «Troens Ridder» — the knight of faith: «Troens Ridder» — the knight of faith — is the figure Johannes de silentio searches for and will famously sketch in the pages that follow (the man who looks like a tax-collector yet lives wholly by the absurd). «paa min Fod vandre» = travel on foot; «beskjæftiger» (modern «beskæftiger») keeps the period «kj».

Jeg vilde intet Øjeblik slippe ham, hvert Minut passe paa, hvorledes han bar sig ad med Bevægelserne; jeg vilde betragte mig selv som forsørget i Livet, og dele min Tid mellem at see paa ham og selv at gjøre Øvelser, og saaledes anvende al min Tid paa at beundre ham.  
I would not let him out of my sight for an instant; every minute I would watch how he managed the movements; I would regard myself as provided for in life, and divide my time between watching him and doing exercises myself, and thus spend all my time admiring him.

Som sagt jeg har ikke fundet nogen Saadan, imidlertid kan jeg vel tænke ham.  
As I said, I have found no such person; nevertheless I can well imagine him.

Her er han.  
Here he is.

Bekjendtskabet stiftes, jeg bliver forestillet for ham.  
The acquaintance is struck up; I am introduced to him.

I det Moment, jeg først tager ham paa mine Øine, kaster jeg ham i samme Nu fra mig, gjør selv et Spring tilbage, slaaer Hænderne sammen og siger halv høit: ,Herre Gud! er det Mennesket, er det virkeligt ham, han seer jo ud som en Rodemester.”"  
The moment I first set eyes on him, I push him away from me in that same instant, make a leap backward myself, clap my hands together and say half aloud: „Good Lord! is that the man, is it really he? — why, he looks just like a tax-collector.”

Imidlertid er det dog ham.  
Nevertheless it really is he.

Jeg slutter mig lidt nærmere til ham, passer paa den mindste Bevægelse, om der ikke skulde vise sig en lille uensartet Brøks-Telegraphering fra det Uendelige, et Blik, en Mine, en Gestus, et Veemod, et Smiil, der forraadte det Uendelige i sin Uensartethed med det Endelige.  
I draw a little closer to him, watch his slightest movement, to see whether there might not show itself some small, incongruous fractional telegraphing from the infinite — a glance, an expression, a gesture, a touch of melancholy, a smile that would betray the infinite in its incommensurability with the finite.
> «det Uendelige» — the infinite: «det Uendelige» ('the infinite') versus «det Endelige» ('the finite') is the governing opposition of this passage: the knight of faith has made the infinite movement yet remains wholly at home in the finite. «uensartet» / «Uensartethed» means 'dissimilar' / 'incommensurability'. Note period orthography: capitalized Nouns, «Smiil», «Veemod».

Nei!  
No!

Jeg examinerer hans Skikkelse fra Top til Taa, om der ikke skulde være en Revne, igjennem hvilken det Uendelige tittede ud.  
I examine his figure from top to toe, to see whether there might not be a crack through which the infinite peeped out.
> «igjennem» — through: «igjennem» is the period spelling of modern «igennem» ('through'), with the older «gj» cluster before a front vowel. «examinerer» keeps the Latinate «x»; «Taa» (modern «tå», 'toe') shows the doubled vowel of 1843 orthography.

Nei!  
No!

Han er heelt igjennem solid.  
He is thoroughly solid through and through.

Hans Fodfæste? er kraftigt, tilhører ganske Endeligheden, ingen pyntet Borgermand, der Søndag-Eftermiddag gaaer ud paa Fresberg, træder grundigere paa Jorden, han tilhører ganske Verden, ingen Spidsborger kan tilhøre den mere.  
His footing is firm, belongs wholly to finitude; no spruced-up burgher who walks out to Fresberg on a Sunday afternoon treads the earth more squarely — he belongs entirely to the world, no philistine could belong to it more.
> «Borgermand» / «Spidsborger»: «Borgermand» is a town-dweller, a 'burgher'; «Spidsborger» (from German Spießbürger) is the narrow-minded 'philistine' or 'bourgeois'. «gaaer» = modern «går», «paa» = «på». «Fresberg» (Frederiksberg) is the genteel suburb of Copenhagen where citizens strolled on Sundays.

Intet er at opdage af dette fremmede og fornemme Væsen, hvorpaa man kjender Uendelighedens Ridder.  
Nothing is to be detected of that strange and distinguished bearing by which one recognizes the knight of the infinite.
> «Uendelighedens Ridder» — knight of the infinite: «Ridderen» ('the knight') is Kierkegaard's recurring figure: here the «Ridder af den uendelige Resignation» (knight of infinite resignation) and, beyond him, the knight of faith. «kjender» is the period spelling of «kender» ('recognizes'), with the older «kj» cluster.

Han glæder sig ved Alt, deeltager i Alt, og hver Gang man seer ham deeltage i det Enkelte, skeer det med en Vedholdenhed, som betegner det jordiske Menneske, hvis Sjæl hænger fast ved Sligt.  
He delights in everything, takes part in everything, and every time one sees him take part in some particular thing, he does so with a tenacity that marks the earthly man whose soul clings fast to such things.
> Doubled vowels: «ee»: «deeltager» (modern «deltager», 'takes part'), «seer» («ser», 'sees') and «skeer» («sker», 'happens') all show the period's doubled «ee». «Sligt» = 'such things / the like'.

Han passer sin Gjerning.  
He attends to his business.

Naar man da seer ham, skulde man troe, han var en Skriverkarl, der havde fortabt sin Sjæl i det italienske Bogholderi, saa punktlig er han.  
When you see him, then, you would think he was a clerk who had lost his soul in Italian bookkeeping, so punctual is he.
> V2 inversion after «Naar»: After the fronted subordinate clause «Naar man da seer ham», the main clause inverts subject and verb: «skulde man troe» ('one would think'). «troe» = modern «tro»; «Skriverkarl» is a (lowly) copy-clerk. 'Italian bookkeeping' is double-entry bookkeeping.

Han ferierer om Søndagen.  
He takes his holiday on Sundays.

Han gaaer i Kirke.  
He goes to church.

Intet himmelsk Blik eller noget Tegn paa det Incommensurable forraader ham; hvis man ikke kjendte ham, var det umuligt, at udsondre ham af den øvrige Mængde; thi hans sunde kraftige Psalmesang beviser i det Højeste, at han har et godt Bryst.  
No heavenly gaze or any sign of the incommensurable betrays him; if you did not know him, it would be impossible to single him out from the rest of the crowd, for his hearty, vigorous hymn-singing proves at most that he has a good pair of lungs.
> «det Incommensurable» — the incommensurable: «det Incommensurable» ('the incommensurable') is the mark of the infinite breaking through the finite — exactly what the true knight of faith conceals completely. «thi» is the archaic causal 'for / because'; «Psalmesang» is hymn-singing.

Om Eftermiddagen gaaer han til Skoven.  
In the afternoon he walks to the woods.

Han fryder sig over Alt, hvad han seer, over MenneskeVrimlen, de nye Omnibusser, Sundet, — naar man møder ham paa Strandveien skulde man troe, han var en Kræmmersjæl, der slog sig løs, netop saaledes glæder han sig; thi han er ikke Digter, og jeg har forgjæves søgt at aflure ham den poetiske Incommensurabilitet.  
He rejoices in everything he sees — the throng of people, the new omnibuses, the Sound — when you meet him on the Strandvej you would think he was a shopkeeper-soul letting himself go; that is just how he enjoys himself, for he is no poet, and I have tried in vain to catch him out in the poetic incommensurability.
> «Digter» — poet: «Digter» ('poet') matters here: the knight of faith is precisely not a poet, betraying no 'poetic incommensurability'. «Kræmmersjæl» is a 'tradesman's / shopkeeper's soul'; «Strandveien» (modern «Strandvejen») is the coast road north of Copenhagen along «Sundet», the Øresund.

Henad Aften gaaer han hjem, hans Gang er ufortrøden som et Postbuds.  
Toward evening he goes home, his gait as untiring as a postman's.

Underveis tænker han paa, at hans Kone vist har en apparte lille Ret varm Mad til ham.  
On the way he thinks that his wife surely has some special little dish of warm food waiting for him.
> «apparte» — special, out of the ordinary: «apparte» (a Danicized borrowing, cf. French à part / German apart) means 'special, distinctive, out of the ordinary'. «Ret» here is a 'dish' (of food); «vist» is the modal 'surely, no doubt'.

ÅåÅ naar han kommer hjem, f. Ex. et stegt Lammehoved med Grønt til.  
Ah, when he comes home — for instance a roast lamb's head with greens to go with it.
> «f. Ex.» — for example: «f. Ex.» is the period abbreviation of «for Exempel» (modern «f.eks.», 'for example'), with the Latinate «x». «stegt Lammehoved med Grønt» — a roast lamb's head with greens — is the homely 'special dish' the knight of faith imagines.

Hvis han mødte en Ligesindet, da kunde han vedblive lige til Østerport at samtale med ham om denne Ret med en Lidenskab, der vilde passe for en Restaurateur.  
If he met a like-minded man, he could go on conversing with him about this dish all the way to Østerport, with a passion that would suit a restaurateur.
> «Lidenskab» — passion: «Lidenskab» ('passion') is a load-bearing word for Kierkegaard: every movement of the infinite, he insists later, happens by passion. Here it is comically attached to a dinner dish. «Østerport» is the old eastern gate of Copenhagen.

Tilfældigviis eier han ikke 4 Sk., og dog troer han fuldt og fast, at hans Kone har hiin lækre Ret til ham.  
As it happens he does not own four shillings, and yet he believes fully and firmly that his wife has that delicious dish ready for him.
> «hiin» — that (yonder): «hiin» is the archaic, literary demonstrative 'that (yonder)', distinct from «den/denne»; period orthography doubles the vowel (modern «hin»). «Sk.» abbreviates «Skilling». «eier» = modern «ejer», «troer» = «tror».

Har hun den, da skal det være et misundelsesværdigt Syn for fornemme Folk, begeistrende for Menigmand at see ham spise; thi hans Appetit er stærkere end Esaus.  
If she has it, then it shall be an enviable sight for distinguished folk, an inspiring one for the common man, to watch him eat, for his appetite is stronger than Esau's.
> Verb-first conditional: «Har hun den, da …» is a conditional with no «hvis»: fronting the finite verb ('has she it') is itself the 'if'. «Menigmand» is 'the common man / the ordinary person'. The allusion is to Esau, who sold his birthright for a meal (Genesis 25).

Hans Kone har den ikke — besynderligt nok — han er aldeles den Samme.  
His wife does not have it — strangely enough — he is exactly the same.

Paa Veien kommer han forbi en Byggeplads, han træffer en anden Mand.  
On the way he passes a building site; he meets another man.

De tale et Øieblik sammen, han opfører i et Nu en Bygning, han disponerer over alle Kræfter dertil.  
They talk together for a moment; in an instant he raises a whole building, he has at his disposal every resource for it.
> Plural verb «-e»: «De tale» keeps the old plural verb ending «-e» ('they talk'); modern Danish leveled this to «De taler». «Øieblik» (modern «øjeblik», 'moment, instant') and «opfører» ('erects, raises') populate this swift daydream of a great builder.

Den Fremmede forlader ham med den Tanke, det var vist en Capitalist, medens min beundrede Ridder tænker: ja kom det derpaa an, kunde jeg sagtens faae det.  
The stranger leaves him with the thought that he was surely a capitalist, while my admired knight thinks: yes, if it came to that, I could easily manage it.
> «medens» and the conditional inversion: «medens» is the older 'while / whereas' (modern «mens»). «ja kom det derpaa an, kunde jeg …» again uses verb-first inversion for the condition: 'if it came to that, I could …'. «faae» = modern «få».

Han ligger i et aabent Vindue og betragter Pladsen, paa hvilken han boer, Alt hvad der foregaar, at en Rotte smutter ned under et Rendesteensbræt, at Børnene lege, alt beskjæftiger ham med en Ro i Tilværelsen, som var han en Pige paa 16 Aar.  
He leans in an open window and watches the square in which he lives — everything that goes on, a rat slipping down under a gutter-board, the children playing — it all occupies him with a serenity in existence as though he were a girl of sixteen.
> «Tilværelsen» — existence: «Tilværelse» ('existence, being-there') is a recurring Kierkegaardian word for lived reality. «beskjæftiger» (modern «beskæftiger», 'occupies') shows the «kj» cluster; «aabent» = «åbent», «boer» = «bor», «Aar» = «år».

Og dog er han ikke Genie; thi Geniets Incommensurabilitet har jeg forgjæves søgt at udspionere hos ham.  
And yet he is no genius, for the genius's incommensurability I have sought in vain to spy out in him.
> «Og dog» — and yet: «Og dog» ('and yet') is the recurring hinge of this whole portrait: each finite ordinariness is set against the infinite movement the knight nonetheless makes. After the fronted object «Geniets Incommensurabilitet» the verb inverts: «har jeg … søgt».

- Han ryger sin Pibe i Aftenstunden; naar man seer ham, skulde man sværge paa, det var Spekhøkeren ligeoverfor, der vegeterer i Skumringen.  
— He smokes his pipe in the evening hour; when you see him, you would swear it was the grocer across the way, vegetating in the dusk.
> «Spekhøker» — chandler, petty grocer: «Spekhøker» is a small dealer in lard, bacon and groceries — the most prosaic of neighbours, exactly the disguise the knight of faith wears. «vegeterer» ('vegetates') deepens the image of dull, contented finitude.

Han lader 5 være lige med en Sorgløshed, som var han en letsindig Døgenigt, og dog kjøber han hvert Øieblik, han lever, den beleilige Tid til den dyreste Priis; thi han gjør end ikke det Mindste uden i Kraft af det Absurde.  
He takes things as they come with a carefreeness, as though he were a frivolous good-for-nothing, and yet every moment he lives he buys up the opportune time at the dearest price, for he does not do even the least thing except by virtue of the absurd.
> «i Kraft af det Absurde» — by virtue of the absurd: «i Kraft af det Absurde» ('by virtue of the absurd') is the signature phrase of «Frygt og Bæven»: the knight of faith gets the finite back not by reason but by the absurd. «lade 5 være lige» is an idiom, 'to let things slide, not bother'; «Døgenigt» is a 'good-for-nothing'.

Og dog, dog, ja jeg kunde blive rasende derover, om ikke af anden Grund saa af Misundelse, dog har dette Menneske gjort og gjør hvert Øieblik Uendelighedens Bevægelse.  
And yet, yet — indeed I could go mad over it, if for no other reason then from envy — yet this man has made and makes at every moment the movement of infinity.
> «Uendelighedens Bevægelse» — the movement of infinity: «Bevægelsen» ('the movement') is the technical term of this section: infinite resignation, and then faith, are each a 'movement'. The knight makes it «hvert Øieblik» ('at every moment') while looking utterly ordinary. «gjort» = past participle of «gjøre» (modern «gøre»).

Han tømmer i den uendelige Resignation Tilværelsens dybe Veemod, han kjender Uendelighedens Salighed, han har fornummet Smerten af at forsage Alt, det Kjæreste, man har i Verden, og dog smager Endeligheden ham fuldt saa godt som den, der aldrig kjendte noget Høiere, thi hans Forbliven i Endeligheden havde intet Spor af en forknyt beængstet Dressur, og dog har han denne Tryghed til at fryde sig ved den, som var den det Visseste af Alt.  
In infinite resignation he drains existence's deep melancholy, he knows the blessedness of infinity, he has felt the pain of renouncing everything, the dearest thing one has in the world — and yet finitude tastes to him just as good as to one who never knew anything higher, for his remaining in finitude bore no trace of a cowed, anxious training, and yet he has this assurance to delight in it as though it were the surest thing of all.
> «den uendelige Resignation» — infinite resignation: «Resignation» (infinite resignation) is the movement that renounces everything finite; faith then receives it back by the absurd. «Veemod» is 'melancholy, wistfulness'; «Salighed» 'blessedness'; «forsage» 'to renounce, give up'. The «og dog» recurs twice, balancing renunciation against full enjoyment of the finite.

Og dog, dog er hele den jordiske Skikkelse, han frembringer, en ny Skabning i Kraft af det Absurde.  
And yet, yet the whole earthly figure he presents is a new creation by virtue of the absurd.

Han resignerede uendeligt paa Alt, og da greb han Alt igjen i Kraft af det Absurde.  
He resigned everything infinitely, and then he grasped it all again by virtue of the absurd.
> Inversion after «da»: After the fronted adverb «da» ('then'), the verb precedes the subject: «da greb han Alt» ('then he grasped everything'). This sentence is the kernel of the double movement: infinite resignation, then the absurd recovery of the finite. «igjen» = modern «igen».

Han gjør bestandig Uendelighedens Bevægelse, men han gjør det med en saadan Correcthed og Sikkerhed, at han bestandig faaer Ende"ligheden ud, og der er intet Secund, hvor man aner noget Andet.  
He constantly makes the movement of infinity, but he makes it with such correctness and certainty that he constantly gets finitude out of it, and there is not a second in which one suspects anything else.
> «bestandig» — constantly: «bestandig» means 'constantly, perpetually'. The stray quotation mark in «Ende"ligheden» (for «Endeligheden», 'finitude') is an artifact of the 19th-century setting preserved verbatim from the source. «Secund» (modern «Sekund») is 'second' of time.

Det skal være den vanskeligste Opgave for en Dandser, at springe sig ind i en bestemt Stilling, saaledes, at der intet Secund er, da han griber efter Stillingen, men i Springet selv staaer i Stillingen.  
It is said to be the hardest task for a dancer to leap himself into a definite posture in such a way that there is not a second in which he is reaching for the posture, but is already standing in it in the leap itself.
> «Dandser» — dancer: «Dandser» (modern «danser», 'dancer') begins the extended image of the knight as a dancer who lands without wavering. «Stilling» is 'posture, position'; «Springet» 'the leap' — the famous Kierkegaardian leap. Note that «Dandser» preserves a historical «d» after «n» (giving the cluster «nds»), where modern «danser» has just «ns»; this is not a doubled consonant but an etymological survival. Note also «aa» in «saaledes».

Maaskee kan ingen Dandser gjøre det — dette gjør hiin Ridder.  
Perhaps no dancer can do it — this knight does.

Mængden af Mennesker lever fortabt i verdslig Sorg og Glæde, disse ere Oversidderne, som ikke komme med i Dandsen.  
The mass of people live lost in worldly sorrow and joy; these are the wallflowers who do not join in the dance.
> Old plural verbs «ere», «komme»: «ere» ('are') and «komme» ('come') keep the old plural verb forms now leveled to «er» and «kommer». «Oversidderne» — literally 'those who sit out' — are the wallflowers who never join «Dandsen» (the dance).

Uendelighedens Riddere…ere Dandsere og have Elevation.  
The knights of infinity are dancers and have elevation.

De gjøre Bevægelsen op efter og falde ned igjen, og ogsaa dette er en ikke usalig Tidsfordriv og ikke uskjønt at see paa.  
They make the movement upward and fall down again, and this too is a not unblissful pastime and not unlovely to look upon.
> Litotes: double negatives: «ikke usalig» ('not unblissful') and «ikke uskjønt» ('not unlovely') are litotes — affirmation by double negation, a favourite Kierkegaardian figure of measured understatement. «uskjønt» (modern «uskønt») shows the «kj» cluster.

Men hver Gang de falde ned, kunne de ikke strax antage Stillingen, de vakle et Øieblik, og denne Vaklen viser, at de dog ere Fremmede i Verden.  
But each time they fall down they cannot at once assume the posture; they waver for a moment, and this wavering shows that they are after all strangers in the world.
> «Vaklen» — wavering: «Vaklen» ('wavering, faltering') is the tell-tale sign that distinguishes the knight of infinite resignation from the true knight of faith, who lands without a tremor. «strax» (modern «straks») is 'at once'; «Fremmede» 'strangers'.

Den er mere eller mindre paafaldende, eftersom de have Kunst, men selv den kunstigste af disse Riddere kan dog ikke skjule denne Vaklen.  
It is more or less conspicuous, according to their art, but even the most artful of these knights cannot, after all, conceal this wavering.
> «skjule» — to hide: «skjule» ('to hide, conceal') shows the older «skj» cluster (still spelled this way in modern Danish, pronounced with sj-). «kunstigste» here means 'most skilful, most artful' (from «Kunst», art/skill), not 'most artificial'.

Man behøver ikke at see dem i Luften, man behøver blot at see dem i det Øieblik, de berøre og have berørt Jorden — og man kjender dem.  
One need not see them in the air; one need only see them in the moment they touch and have touched the earth — and one knows them.

Men at kunne falde saaledes ned, at det i samme Secund seer ud som stod og gik man, at forvandle Springet i Livet til Gang, absolut at udtrykke det Sublime i det Pedestre — det kan kun hiin Ridder, — og dette er det eneste Vidunder.  
But to be able to fall down in such a way that in the same second it looks as though one were standing and walking, to transform the leap of life into a gait, absolutely to express the sublime in the pedestrian — that only this knight can do, and this is the one and only marvel.
> «det Sublime i det Pedestre»: «det Sublime i det Pedestre» — 'the sublime in the pedestrian' — names the whole feat of the knight of faith: expressing the infinite entirely within the everyday. «Vidunder» is 'marvel, wonder'. «Springet i Livet til Gang» turns 'the leap' into a mere 'walk / gait'.

Dog dette Vidunder kan saa let skuffe, jeg vil derfor beskrive Bevægelserne i et bestemt Tilfælde, der kan belyse disses Forhold til Virkeligheden; thi derom er det at Alt dreier sig.  
Yet this marvel can so easily deceive that I will therefore describe the movements in a definite case, which may illuminate their relation to reality — for it is on this that everything turns.
> «Virkeligheden» — reality: «Virkelighed» ('reality, actuality') becomes the test: how the movement stands to actual life. «skuffe» means 'to disappoint, deceive'; «derom … dreier sig» is the idiom 'it is on this that everything turns' («dreier» = modern «drejer»).

En Ungersvend forelsker sig i en Prindsesse, og hele hans Livs Indhold ligger i denne Kjærlighed, og dog er Forholdet et saadant, at den umulig lader sig realisere, umulig lader sig oversætte " fra Ildealiteten til Realiteten”).  
A young lad falls in love with a princess, and the whole content of his life lies in this love, and yet the relation is such that it cannot possibly be realized, cannot possibly be translated from ideality into reality.
> «Kjærlighed» — love: «Kjærlighed» (modern «kærlighed», 'love') with the «kj» cluster. The young man's hopeless love for an unreachable princess becomes Kierkegaard's worked example of resignation. «Ildealiteten … Realiteten» (a setting-error for «Idealiteten», 'ideality') and the stray «"» / footnote-marker «”)» are preserved verbatim from the source.

Elendighedens Trælle, Frøerne i Livets Sump, skrige naturligviis: en saadan Kjærlighed er en Daarskab, og den rige Bryggerenke er et fuldkomment saa godt og solidt Parti.  
The thralls of misery, the frogs in life's swamp, naturally cry out: such a love is folly, and the rich brewer's widow is every bit as good and solid a match.
> Old plurals; «Daarskab»: «Trælle» ('thralls, slaves') and the plural verb «skrige» ('cry out') keep older forms. «Daarskab» (modern «dårskab», 'folly') shows the «aa». The prudent worldlings prefer «den rige Bryggerenke» — the rich brewer's widow — a 'solid match' («Parti»).

Lad dem uforstyrret qvække i Sumpen.  
Let them croak undisturbed in the swamp.
> «qvække» — to croak: «qvække» (modern «kvække», 'to croak') uses the older «qv» for the «kv» sound, continuing the frog image for the prosaic worldlings. «uforstyrret» is 'undisturbed'.

Saaledes gjør Ridderen af den uendelige Resignation ikke, han opgiver ikke Kjærligheden, ikke for al Verdens Herlighed.  
The knight of infinite resignation does not act so; he does not give up the love, not for all the glory of the world.
> «Ridderen af den uendelige Resignation»: Kierkegaard now names the figure explicitly: 'the knight of infinite resignation'. He does not abandon the love but renounces its realization, holding it forever in an eternal form. «Saaledes gjør … ikke» fronts the manner adverb, inverting verb and subject.

Han er ingen Gjæk.  
He is no fool.

Han forvisser sig først om, at den virkelig er ham Livets Indhold, og hans Sjæl er for sund og for stolt til at ødsle det Mindste paa en Ruus.  
He first assures himself that it really is the content of his life, and his soul is too sound and too proud to squander the least of it on an intoxication.
> «Ruus» — intoxication: «Ruus» (modern «rus», 'intoxication, frenzy') with the doubled «uu». The knight will not waste his great passion on a passing 'high'. «forvisser sig om» is 'to make sure of'; «ødsle» 'to squander'.

Han er ikke fejig, han frygter ikke for at lade den snige sig ind i hans lønligste, hans mest afsides Tanker, at lade den snoe sig i utallige Slyngninger om ethvert Ligament i hans Bevidsthed — bliver Kjærligheden ulykkelig, da vil han aldrig kunne rive sig ud af den.  
He is not cowardly; he does not fear to let it steal into his most secret, his most remote thoughts, to let it wind itself in countless coils around every ligament of his consciousness — should the love turn unhappy, he will never be able to tear himself free of it.
> Verb-first conditional: «bliver Kjærligheden ulykkelig, da vil han …» is again a conditional made by fronting the verb: 'should the love turn unhappy, then he …'. «lønligste» is 'most secret'; «snoe sig» 'to wind/coil itself' («snoe» = modern «sno»).

Han føler en salig Vellyst ved at lade Kjærligheden gjennemgyse hver hans Nerve, og dog er hans Sjæl høitidelig som Dens, der har tømt Giftbægeret og føler, hvorledes Saften gjennemtrænger hver en Blodsdraabe, — thi dette Øie+) Det følger af sig selv, at hvilkensomhelst anden Interesse, i hvilken et Individ har hele Virkelighedens Realitet for sig concentreret, kan, naar den viser sig urealisabel, foranledige Resignationens Bevægelse.  
He feels a blessed voluptuousness in letting the love thrill through every nerve of his, and yet his soul is solemn as that of one who has drained the cup of poison and feels how the juice penetrates every drop of blood — for this glance is life and death.
> «Vellyst», «Giftbægeret»: «Vellyst» is 'voluptuousness, sensual delight'; «Giftbægeret» 'the cup of poison' (echoing Socrates' hemlock). «gjennemgyse» / «gjennemtrænger» ('thrill through' / 'penetrate') show the «gj» cluster.

Jeg har imidlertid valgt en Forelskelse til at vise Bevægelserne paa, fordi denne Interesse vil lettere forstaaes, og saaledes fritager mig for alle foreløbige Overveielser, der i dybere Forstand kun kunz.e beskjæftige ganske Enkelte. blik er Liv og Død.  
I have meanwhile chosen a falling-in-love to display the movements upon, because this interest will be more easily understood and so frees me from all preliminary considerations that, in a deeper sense, could occupy only quite particular individuals. — this glance is life and death.

Naar han da saaledes har indsuget hele Kjærligheden i sig og fordybet sig i den, da mangler han ikke Mod til at forsøge og vove Alt.  
When he has thus absorbed the whole love into himself and immersed himself in it, then he does not lack the courage to attempt and venture everything.
> «vove» — to venture, dare: «vove» ('to venture, to risk') is the daring of the knight who will stake everything. The doubled «Naar … da» frame ('when … then') again triggers V2 inversion in the main clause: «da mangler han ikke Mod».

Han overskuer Livets Forhold, han sammenkalder de hurtige Tanker, der som slagvante Duer lyde hvert hans Vink, han svinger Staven over dem, og de styrte sig i alle Retninger.  
He surveys the relations of life; he summons the swift thoughts that, like battle-trained pigeons, obey his every signal; he swings the staff over them, and they dart off in every direction.
> Plural verb «lyde»: «Duer … lyde hvert hans Vink» — 'pigeons obey his every signal' — keeps the old plural verb «lyde» (here 'obey'). «slagvante» is 'battle-trained / battle-hardened' (from «slag», battle, + «vante», accustomed); «Vink» is a 'signal, hint'.

Men naar de nu alle vende tilbage, alle som Sorgens Bud og forklare ham, at det er en Umulighed, da bliver han stille, han takker dem af, han bliver ené og da foretager han sig Bevægelsen.  
But when they all now return, all of them as messengers of sorrow, and explain to him that it is an impossibility, then he grows still, he dismisses them, he becomes alone — and then he undertakes the movement.
> «ené» — alone: «ené» (modern «ene», 'alone') carries the acute accent of the period to mark stress. The knight's solitude is the precondition of the «Bevægelse» ('movement') of resignation. «Sorgens Bud» are 'messengers of sorrow'.

Dersom hvad, jeg her siger, skal have mogen Betydning, da gjælder det om, at Bevægelsen skeer normalt”).  
If what I say here is to have any significance, then it is essential that the movement happen normally.
> «Dersom … da» — if … then: «Dersom» is the formal 'if' (cf. «hvis»), paired with «da» ('then') in the main clause, which inverts: «da gjælder det om». «mogen» is a setting-error for «nogen» ('any'); «skeer» = «sker» ('happens'). The trailing «”)» marks a footnote in the source, preserved verbatim.

Ridderen vil da for det første have Kraft til at concentrere hele Livets Indhold og Virkelighedens Betydning i eet eneste Ønske.  
The knight will then, in the first place, have the strength to concentrate the whole content of life and the meaning of reality into a single wish.
> «eet» — one (emphatic): «eet eneste Ønske» ('one single wish') uses the doubled-vowel «eet», the older stressed spelling of the numeral «ét», to stress the concentration into one wish. «concentrere» keeps the Latinate spelling.

Mangler et Menneske denne Concentration, denne Sluttethed, er hans Sjæl fra Begyndelsen adsplittet i det Mang"foldige, da kommer han aldrig til at gjøre Bevægelsen, han vil i Livet handle klogt som de Pengemænd, der anbringe deres Capital i alle forskjellige Papirer, for at vinde paa det ene, naar de tabe paa det andet — kort, ”) Dertil hører der Lidenskab.  
If a man lacks this concentration, this self-containedness — if his soul is from the start scattered into the manifold — then he will never come to make the movement; he will act shrewdly in life, like the moneymen who place their capital in all sorts of papers so as to gain on the one when they lose on the other — in short, that requires passion.
> «Sluttethed» versus «det Mangfoldige»: «Sluttethed» is 'closedness, self-containedness, integration'; «det Mangfoldige» 'the manifold / the multiplicity'. The undivided soul can make the movement; the scattered one diversifies like a hedging investor. The stray «"» in «Mang"foldige» and the footnote marker «”)» are setting artifacts kept verbatim.

Enhver Uendelighedens Bevægelse skeer ved Lidenskab, og ingen Reflexion kan tilveiebringe en Bevægelse.  
Every movement of infinity happens by passion, and no reflection can bring about a movement.
> «Lidenskab» versus «Reflexion»: The footnote's thesis: «Lidenskab» ('passion') alone produces the movement; «Reflexion» ('reflection') never can. This sets up Kierkegaard's polemic against Hegelian mediation in the sentences that follow.

Dette er det idelige Spring i Tilværelsen, der forklarer Bevægelsen, medens Mediationen er en Chimaire, som hosHegel skal forklare Alt, og som tillige er det Eneste, han aldrig har forsøgt at forklare.  
This is the perpetual leap in existence that explains the movement, whereas mediation is a chimera which in Hegel is supposed to explain everything, and which is at the same time the one thing he has never tried to explain.

Selv til at gjøre den bekjendte socratiske Distinction mellem hvad man forstaaer og hvad man ikke forstaaer, hører der Lidenskab, end mere naturligviis til at gjøre den egentlige socratiske Bevægelse, Uvidenhedens.  
Even to make the well-known Socratic distinction between what one understands and what one does not understand takes passion, and still more, of course, to make the genuine Socratic movement, that of ignorance.

Men det, Tiden mangler, er ikke Reflexion, men Lidenskab.  
But what the age lacks is not reflection, but passion.
> «Tiden» — the age: «Tiden» here means 'the age, the present time' (the era), not clock-time. Kierkegaard's diagnosis of his own over-reflective, passionless age is a recurring theme; the remedy is «Lidenskab» (passion).

Derfor er Tiden egentlig i en vis Forstand for seiglivet til at døe; thi det at døe er et af de mærkeligste Spring, og et lille Vers af en Digter har altid tiltalt mig meget, fordi han, efter i en 5, 6 foregaaende Linier smukt og eenfoldigt at have ønsket sig gode Ting i Livet, ender saaledes: ein seliger Sprung in die Ewigkeit.  
Therefore the age is really, in a certain sense, too tenacious of life to die; for to die is one of the most remarkable leaps, and a little verse by a poet has always greatly appealed to me, because, after wishing himself good things in life for five or six preceding lines, prettily and simply, he ends thus: a blessed leap into eternity.

saa er han ikke Ridder.  
then he is no knight.

Dernæst vil Ridderen have Kraft til at concentrere hele Tanke-Operationens Resultat i een Bevidstheds-Akt.  
Next, the knight will have the strength to concentrate the whole result of the operation of thought into one act of consciousness.
> «Bevidsthed» — consciousness: «Bevidsthed» ('consciousness') and the compound «Bevidstheds-Akt» ('act of consciousness') name the second condition: gathering the whole result of thought into a single act. «een» (doubled vowel) again stresses 'one'.

Mangler han denne Sluttethed, er hans Sjæl fra Begyndelsen adsplittet i det Mangfoldige, da vil han aldrig faae Tid til at gjøre Bevægelsen, han vil bestandig løbe Ærinder i Livet, aldrig gaae ind i Evigheden; thi selv i det Øieblik, da han er nærmest derved, vil han pludselig opdage, at han har glemt Noget, hvorfor han maa tilbage.  
If he lacks this self-containedness — if his soul is from the start scattered into the manifold — then he will never find time to make the movement; he will forever be running errands in life, never entering eternity, for even in the moment when he is nearest to it he will suddenly discover that he has forgotten something, on account of which he must go back.
> «Evigheden» — eternity: «Evighed» ('eternity') stands opposed to the busy finite life of 'running errands' («løbe Ærinder»). «faae» = modern «få», «gaae» = «gå»; the scattered soul never crosses over. «Mangfoldige» — 'the manifold' — recurs from the earlier condition.

I næste Øieblik, vil han tænke, er det muligt, og det er ogsaa ganske sandt; men ved slige Betragtninger kommer man aldrig til at gjøre Bevægelsen, men ved Hjælp af dem synker man dybere og dybere i Mudret.  
In the next moment, he will think, it is possible — and that too is quite true; but by such considerations one never comes to make the movement, rather, by their help one sinks deeper and deeper into the mire.
> «slige» — such: «slige Betragtninger» ('such considerations') uses the older plural demonstrative «slige» (of «slig», 'such'). «Mudret» is 'the mire / mud'. Note the inserted parenthetical «vil han tænke» ('he will think') splitting the clause.

Ridderen gjør da Bevægelsen, men hvilken?  
The knight then makes the movement — but which one?

Vil han glemme det Hele; thi ogsaa deri ligger jo en Slags Concentration?  
Will he forget the whole thing — for in that too, surely, there lies a kind of concentration?

Nej!  
No!

thi Ridderen modsiger ikke sig selv, og det er en Modsigelse at forglemme hele sit Livs Indhold og dog blive den Samme.  
for the knight does not contradict himself, and it is a contradiction to forget the whole content of one's life and yet remain the same.
> «Modsigelse» — contradiction: «modsiger … sig selv» ('contradicts himself') and «en Modsigelse» ('a contradiction'): the knight remains self-identical, so he cannot simply forget. «thi» is the archaic causal 'for'. The sentence opens with lowercase «thi» because it continues the answer begun by «Nej!».

At blive en Anden, føler han ingen Drift til, og anseer det ingenlunde for det Store.  
To become another he feels no urge, and by no means regards it as the great thing.
> Fronted infinitive object: The infinitive phrase «At blive en Anden» ('to become another') is fronted as object, so the main clause inverts: «føler han ingen Drift». «anseer … for» = 'regards … as' («anseer» = modern «anser»); «ingenlunde» 'by no means'.

Kun de lavere Naturer glemme sig selv og blive noget Nyt.  
Only the lower natures forget themselves and become something new.
> Old plural verbs: «Naturer glemme … og blive» keeps the old plural verb endings (modern «glemmer … bliver»). The contrast between «lavere» (lower) and «dybere Naturer» (deeper natures) frames the butterfly image that follows.

Saaledes har Sommerfuglen aldeles glemt, at den var Kaalorm, maaskee kan den igjen glemme, at den var Sommerfugl saa aldeles, at den kan blive en Fisk.  
Thus the butterfly has utterly forgotten that it was a caterpillar; perhaps it can again forget that it was a butterfly so utterly that it could become a fish.
> «Kaalorm» — caterpillar: «Kaalorm» (literally 'cabbage-worm', modern «kålorm») is a caterpillar. The mocking image: the shallow nature so forgets its past selves it might end up a fish. «aldeles» means 'utterly, completely'; «igjen» = modern «igen».

De dybere Naturer glemme aldrig sig selv og blive aldrig til Andet end hvad de vare.  
The deeper natures never forget themselves and never become anything other than what they were.
> «vare» — were (plural): «hvad de vare» ('what they were') uses the old plural past «vare» (modern «var»). The deep nature stays self-identical — the precondition for the knight's true movement of resignation rather than mere self-loss.

Ridderen vil da erindre Alt; men denne Erindren er netop.  
The knight, then, will remember everything; but this remembering is precisely —
> «Erindren» — remembering: «erindre» ('to remember, recollect') and the verbal noun «Erindren» ('remembering') are central: the knight remembers all, and that very remembering is his pain. The sentence breaks at «netop» ('precisely') and its predicate — «Smerten» — carries over into the next sentence in the source.

Smerten, og dog er han i den uendelige Resignation forsonet med Tilværelsen.  
the pain, and yet in infinite resignation he is reconciled with existence.
> «forsonet» — reconciled: «Smerten» ('the pain') completes the previous sentence's «er netop …». «forsonet med Tilværelsen» — 'reconciled with existence' — names the peace the knight of infinite resignation finds even in pain. The sentence opens with «Smerten» because it continues from «s77».

Kjærligheden til hiin Prindsesse blev for ham Udtrykket for en evig Kjærlighed, antog en religiøs Charakter, forklarede sig i en Kjærlighed til det evige Væsen, der vel negtede Opfyldelsen, men dog atter forsøonede ham i den evige Bevidsthed om dens Gyldighed i en Evigheds-Form, som ingen Virkelighed kan fratage ham.  
His love for that princess became for him the expression of an eternal love, took on a religious character, transfigured itself into a love for the eternal being, who indeed denied its fulfillment but yet reconciled him anew in the eternal consciousness of its validity in a form of eternity that no reality can take from him.
> Love made «religiøs»: The decisive turn: the love «antog en religiøs Charakter» ('took on a religious character') and becomes love of «det evige Væsen» (the eternal being, i.e. God). «negtede» (modern «nægtede», 'denied'), «forsøonede» (a setting variant of «forsonede», 'reconciled') and «Charakter» keep period spellings.

Daarer og unge Mennesker snakke om, at Alt er muligt for et Menneske.  
Fools and young people prate that everything is possible for a man.
> «Daarer» — fools: «Daarer» (modern «dårer», 'fools') with the doubled «aa». The plural verb «snakke» ('chatter, prate') keeps the old «-e» ending. Kierkegaard sets up the distinction between spiritual possibility and finite impossibility in the next sentences.

Det er imidlertid en stor Vildfarelse.  
That, however, is a great error.

Aandelig talt er Alt muligt, men i Endelighedens Verden er der Meget, der ikke er muligt.  
Spiritually speaking, everything is possible, but in the world of finitude there is much that is not possible.
> «Aandelig talt» — spiritually speaking: «Aandelig» (modern «åndelig», 'spiritual', from «Aand»/«Ånd», spirit) with the «aa». The key distinction: spiritually all is possible, but «i Endelighedens Verden» ('in the world of finitude') much is not — which is just where resignation begins.

Dette Umulige gjør imidlertid Ridderen muligt derved, at han udtrykker det aandeligt, men aandeligt udtrykker han det derved, at han giver Afkald derpaa.  
This impossible thing, however, the knight makes possible by expressing it spiritually; but he expresses it spiritually precisely by renouncing it.
> «give Afkald» — to renounce: «give Afkald paa» ('to renounce, relinquish') is the very act of resignation: the knight makes the impossible 'possible' spiritually by giving it up. Note the chiasmus — «udtrykker det aandeligt … aandeligt udtrykker han det» — mirroring the paradox.

Ønsket, der vilde føre ham ud i Virkeligheden, men strandede paa Umuligheden, bøies nu indefter, men er derfor ikke tabt, heller ikke glemt.  
The wish, which would have carried him out into reality but ran aground on impossibility, is now bent inward, but is not therefore lost, nor forgotten.
> «bøies» — is bent (passive): «bøies» is the older «-es» passive of «bøje» ('to bend'), modern «bøjes». The wish is 'bent inward' rather than realized outwardly — the inward turn of resignation. «strandede paa» is the idiom 'ran aground on, foundered upon'.

Snart er det Ønskets dunkle Rørelser i ham, der vække Erindringen, snart vækker han den selv; thi han er for stolt til at ville, at det, der var hele hans Livs Indhold, skulde have været et flygtigt Moments Sag.  
Now it is the dark stirrings of the wish in him that awaken the remembrance, now he awakens it himself; for he is too proud to be willing that what was the whole content of his life should have been the affair of a fleeting moment.
> «Snart … snart» — now … now: The correlative «Snart … snart» means 'now … now (at one time … at another)'. After fronted «Snart» the verb inverts: «Snart er det … snart vækker han». «dunkle Rørelser» are 'dark stirrings'; the trailing clause uses subjunctive «skulde have været» ('should have been').

Han holder denne Kjærlighed ung, og den tiltager med ham i Aar og i Skjønhed.  
He keeps this love young, and it increases with him in years and in beauty.

Derimod behøver han ingen Endelighedens Anledning til dens Fremvæxt.  
On the other hand, he needs no occasion from finitude for its growth.
> «Fremvæxt» — growth: «Fremvæxt» (modern «fremvækst», 'growth, sprouting forth') keeps the Latinate «x». The point: the inwardly held love needs no finite stimulus to keep growing — it is sustained by remembrance alone. «Anledning» is 'occasion'.

Fra det Øieblik, han har gjort Bevægelsen, er Prindsessen tabt.  
From the moment he has made the movement, the princess is lost.

Han behøver ikke disse erotiske Nervezittringer ved at see den Elskede o.s. v., han behøver heller ikke i endelig Forstand bestandig at tage Afsked med hende, fordi han i evig Forstand erindrer hende, og han veed meget godt, at de Elskende, der ere saa forhippede paa endnu engang til Afsked at see hinanden for sidste Gang, have Ret i at være forhippede, Ret i at mene, at det er sidste Gang; thi de glemme snarest hinanden.  
He does not need these erotic tremblings of the nerves at seeing the beloved and so on; nor does he need, in a finite sense, to keep taking leave of her, because in an eternal sense he remembers her; and he knows very well that the lovers who are so eager to see each other one more time in farewell, for the last time, are right to be eager, right to think it is the last time — for they are the soonest to forget each other.
> «o.s.v.» and «forhippede»: «o.s. v.» abbreviates «og saa videre» ('and so on', modern «osv.»). «forhippede paa» is colloquial 'set on, eager for'. «veed» = modern «ved» ('knows'); the plural verbs «ere», «have», «glemme» keep the old «-e» endings.

Han har fattet den dybe Hemmelighed, at ogsaa i at elske et andet Menneske bør man være sig selv nok.  
He has grasped the deep secret that even in loving another person one ought to be sufficient unto oneself.
> «være sig selv nok» — to be sufficient unto oneself: «være sig selv nok» — literally 'to be enough for oneself' — is the secret the knight has grasped: self-sufficiency even in love. «fattet» is the past participle of «fatte» ('to grasp, comprehend'); «bør» is the modal 'ought'.

Han tager intet endeligt Hensyn mere til hvad Prindsessen gjør, og netop dette beviser, at han har gjort Bevægelsen uendeligt.  
He takes no further finite account of what the princess does, and precisely this proves that he has made the movement infinitely.
> «uendeligt» — infinitely: That he is utterly indifferent to the princess's finite doings is the proof that the «Bevægelse» (movement) was made «uendeligt» ('infinitely') — completely, in the mode of infinite resignation. «Hensyn til» is 'regard / consideration for'.

Her kan man faae Leilighed til at see, om Bevægelsen hos den Enkelte er sand eller tilløjet.  
Here one may have occasion to see whether the movement in the individual is genuine or feigned.
> «den Enkelte» — the individual: «den Enkelte» ('the single individual') is one of Kierkegaard's signature categories — the particular person before God, irreducible to the crowd. «tilløjet» (modern «tilløjet/tilløgnet», 'faked, lied into being') marks the feigned movement. «faae» = «få», «Leilighed» = «lejlighed» ('occasion').

Der var den, der ogsaa troede, at han havde gjort Bevægelsen, men see Tiden gik, Prindsessen gjorde noget Andet, hun giftede sig f. Ex. med en Prinds, da tabte hans Sjæl Resignationens Elasticitet.  
There was also the one who believed that he had made the movement, but lo, time passed, the Princess did something else — she married, for instance, a Prince — and then his soul lost the elasticity of resignation.
> Resignationens Elasticitet — the elasticity of resignation: «Resignation» is one of the load-bearing terms of «Frygt og Bæven»: the infinite renunciation by which the knight gives up his earthly wish entirely. The «Elasticitet» (springiness) is a striking physical metaphor — a properly made movement keeps its tension; this man's slackened because it depended on the Princess.
> «Prindsessen» — period spelling of Prinsessen: «Prindsessen» (the Princess) shows the 1843 spelling «nds» where modern Danish writes «ns» (Prinsessen). The fairy-tale figure of the unattainable Princess is Kierkegaard's running example for the beloved the knight must renounce.

Han viste derved, at han ikke havde gjort Bevægelsen rigtigt; thi den, der har-resigneret uendeligt, han er-sig”selv nok.  
He showed thereby that he had not made the movement rightly; for the one who has resigned infinitely is sufficient unto himself.
> «thi» — for (causal): «thi» means 'for / because', introducing a reason. It is archaic-literary in modern Danish (which prefers «for» or «fordi») but Kierkegaard uses it constantly to chain his arguments. Note the OCR-era hyphenation «har-resigneret» and «er-sig”selv»: these stray marks are artifacts of the 19th-century printing, not Kierkegaard's punctuation.

Ridderen hæver ikke sin Resignation, han bevarer sin Kjærlighed ligesaa ung, som den var i det første Øieblik, han slipFrygt og Bæven. 3. Udg. å per den aldrig fra sig, netop fordi han har gjort Bevægelsen uendeligt.  
The knight does not revoke his resignation, he keeps his love just as young as it was in the first moment, he never lets go of it, precisely because he has made the movement infinitely.
> A printer's running-head spliced into the text: The fragment «slipFrygt og Bæven. 3. Udg. å per» is a scanning artifact: the verb «slipper» (lets go) was broken across a line, and the page's running head — the book title «Frygt og Bæven» and edition note «3. Udg.» (3rd edition) — was pulled into the body. Read it as «han slipper den aldrig fra sig» (he never lets it go from him).
> «Kjærlighed» — period spelling of Kærlighed: «Kjærlighed» (love) shows the 1843 «kj» where modern Danish drops the j (Kærlighed). The same «kj» appears across this passage in «Kjøb», «Forskjel». Capitalized because all nouns were capitalized in 19th-century Danish.

Hvad Prindsessen gjør kan ikke forstyrre ham, det er kun de lavere Naturer, der have Loven for deres Handlinger i et andet Menneske, Præmisserne til deres Handlinger udenfor sig selv.  
What the Princess does cannot disturb him; it is only the lower natures that have the law for their actions in another person, the premises for their actions outside themselves.
> «de lavere Naturer» — the lower natures: «de lavere Naturer» (the lower natures) are those whose conduct is governed from outside — by another person, by circumstance — rather than from their own inward relation to the eternal. The contrast with the self-sufficient knight is the point.

Er Prindsessen derimod en Ligesindet, da vil det Skjønne fremkomme.  
If, on the other hand, the Princess is of like mind, then the beautiful will come to pass.
> «det Skjønne» — the beautiful: «det Skjønne» (the beautiful), with «skj» for modern «sk» (det Skønne). Kierkegaard substantivizes the adjective with the neuter article «det» — 'the beautiful (thing)' — a habit he repeats with «det Ethiske», «det Almene», «det Absurde» throughout.

Hun vil da introducere sig selv i den Ridderorden, i hvilken man ikke optages ved Ballotation, men af hvilken Enhver er Medlem, der har Mod til at indføre sig selv, den Ridderorden, der derved beviser sin Udødelighed, at den ingen Forskjel gjør paa Mand og Qvinde.  
She will then introduce herself into that order of knighthood into which one is not admitted by ballot, but of which everyone is a member who has the courage to introduce himself — that order of knighthood which proves its immortality precisely by making no distinction between man and woman.
> «Qvinde» — period spelling of Kvinde: «Qvinde» (woman) uses «Qv» where modern Danish writes «Kv» (Kvinde); compare «Qvide» (sorrow) below. The «paa Mand og Qvinde» (between man and woman) is Kierkegaard insisting the inward movement of faith is open equally to both.

Ogsaa hun vil bevare sin Kjærlighed ung og sund, ogsaa hun vil have forvundet sin Qvide, om hun end ikke, som der staaer i Visen: hver Nat ligger ved sin Herres Side.  
She too will keep her love young and sound, she too will have overcome her sorrow, even if she does not, as the ballad has it, lie every night at her lord's side.
> «Qvide» — sorrow, anguish: «Qvide» (modern «Kvide») is an old, poetic word for grief or anguish — fittingly archaic, since the line alludes to «Visen», a folk ballad. «forvundet» is the past participle of «forvinde», to get over / recover from a loss.

Disse Tvende vil da i al Evighed passe for hinanden, med en saadan taktfast harmonia præstabilita, at hvis nogensinde Øieblikket kom, et Øieblik, der dog ikke endeligt beskjæftiger dem, thi da ældes de, hvis nogensinde Øieblikket kom, der tillod at give Kjærligheden sit Udtryk i Tiden, da vilde de være istand til at begynde netop der, hvor de vilde have begyndt, hvis de oprindeligen havde været forenede.  
These two will then suit each other for all eternity, with such a steadily-keeping harmonia praestabilita that, if ever the moment came — a moment that does not, after all, finally occupy them, for then they would grow old — if ever the moment came that allowed love to be given its expression in time, they would be able to begin precisely there where they would have begun had they been united from the first.

Den, der forstaaer dette, hvad enten han er en Mand eller en Qvinde, han kan aldrig blive bedragen, thi det er kun de lavere Naturer, der indbilde sig, at de ere bedragne.  
The one who understands this, whether he is a man or a woman, can never be deceived, for it is only the lower natures that imagine they are deceived.

Ingen Pige, der ikke er saa stolt, forstaaer egentlig at elske, men er hun saa stolt, da kan Alverdens List og Kløgt ikke bedrage hende.  
No girl who is not that proud truly understands how to love, but if she is that proud, then all the cunning and shrewdness in the world cannot deceive her.

I den uendelige Resignation er der Fred og Hvile; ethvert Menneske, der vil det, der ikke har fornedret sig selv ved — hvad der er endnu forfærdeligere end at være for stolt — at lade haant om sig selv, kan optugte sig selv til at gjøre denne Bevægelse, der i sin Smerte forsoner med Tilværelsen.  
In infinite resignation there is peace and rest; every person who wills it, who has not debased himself by — what is even more dreadful than being too proud — holding himself in contempt, can discipline himself into making this movement, which in its pain reconciles one with existence.
> «forsoner med Tilværelsen» — reconciles with existence: «Tilværelsen» = existence, being-there (compare German Dasein). «forsoner» is 'reconciles'. The infinite resignation does not abolish the pain; it reconciles the person with existence in the very midst of the pain — a key step on the way to faith.

Den uendelige Resignation er hiin Skjorte, om hvilken der tales i et gammelt Folkesagn.  
Infinite resignation is that shirt of which an old folk-legend tells.
> «Folkesagn» — folk-legend: «Folkesagn» (folk-legend / folktale) — «hiin Skjorte» means 'that shirt', with the archaic distal demonstrative «hiin» (yon, that one over there), modern «hin». Kierkegaard alludes to the legend of the protecting shirt sewn from grief.

'Traaden er spunden under Taarer, bleget ved Taarer, Skjorten syet i Taarer, men da beskytter den ogsaa bedre end Jern og Staal.  
'The thread is spun under tears, bleached by tears, the shirt sewn in tears, but then it also protects better than iron and steel.
> «spunden», «syet» — the protective shirt of tears: Doubled vowels «Traaden» (the thread), «Taarer» (tears) mark the period orthography for modern «å» (Tråden, Tårer). «spunden» and «syet» are past participles (spun, sewn). The opening single quote is the legend being quoted; its closing mark is lost in this edition.

Det Ufuldkomne i Folkesagnet er, at en Tredie kan forarbeide dette Linned.  
The imperfection in the folk-legend is that a third party can work this linen.

Hemmeligheden i Livet er, at Enhver maa sye sig den selv, og Mærkeligheden er, at en Mand kan sye den fuldt saa vel som en Qvinde.  
The secret of life is that everyone must sew it for himself, and the remarkable thing is that a man can sew it fully as well as a woman.

I den uendelige Resignation er der Fred og Hvile og Trøst i Smerten, det vil sige naar Bevægelsen er gjort normalt.  
In infinite resignation there is peace and rest and consolation in the pain, that is to say, when the movement is made normally.

Det var mig imidlertid ikke vanskeligt at skrive en heel Bog, naar jeg vilde gjennemgaae de forskjellige Misforstaaelser, de bagvendte Stillinger, de sjuskede Bevægelser, jeg har stødt paa blot i min lille Praxis.  
It would not, however, have been difficult for me to write a whole book, had I wished to go through the various misunderstandings, the back-to-front postures, the slovenly movements I have come upon merely in my own little practice.
> «min lille Praxis» — my little practice: «Praxis» (Latinate spelling, modern «praksis') has a wry medical ring — as if the pseudonymous author Johannes de silentio keeps a small clinic and sees patients whose movements of faith are sloppily performed. «sjuskede» = slovenly, careless.

Man troer meget lidt paa Aand, og dog gjælder det netop om Aand for at gjøre denne Bevægelse, det gjælder om, at den ikke er et eensidigt Resultat af en dira mnecessitas, og jo mere denne er tilstede, desto tvivlsommere bliver det altid, om Bevægelsen er normal.  
People believe very little in spirit, and yet it is precisely a matter of spirit to make this movement — it is a matter of its not being a one-sided result of a dira necessitas, and the more this is present, the more doubtful it always becomes whether the movement is normal.
> «Aand» — spirit: «Aand» (spirit; modern «Ånd»), doubled-a for «å». A central Kierkegaardian category. The Latin «dira necessitas» (dire necessity) — here printed «dira mnecessitas» with a stray scanning mark — means a grim external compulsion; the movement of faith must not be merely forced on us by such necessity.

Naar man saaledes vil mene, at den kolde, ufrugtbare Nødvendighed nødvendigt maa være tilstede, saa siger man dermed, at Ingen kan opleve Døden, før han virkelig døer, hvilket forekommer mig en cras Materialisme.  
When someone thus wants to maintain that the cold, barren necessity must necessarily be present, he is thereby saying that no one can experience death before he actually dies — which seems to me a crass materialism.

Dog i vor Tid bekymrer man sig mindre om at gjøre rene Bevægelser.  
Yet in our age people concern themselves less with making clean movements.

Dersom Een, der skulde lære at dandse, vilde sige: nu har i Aarhundreder den ene Slægt efter den anden lært Positioner, det er paa den høie Tid, at jeg drager mig dette til Fordeel og uden videre begynder paa Francaiser, saa vilde man vel lee lidt ad ham; men i AÅandens Verden finder man det yderst plausibelt.  
If someone who was to learn to dance were to say: now for centuries one generation after another has learned the positions, it is high time that I turn this to my advantage and without further ado begin on the française — then people would no doubt laugh a little at him; but in the world of spirit they find it extremely plausible.

Hvad er da Dannelse?  
What, then, is cultivation?
> «Dannelse» — cultivation, formation: «Dannelse» (German Bildung) means formation, education, the inward shaping of a person — not mere schooling. Kierkegaard's answer follows: the course the single individual runs through to catch up with himself.

Jeg troede, det var det Cursus, den Enkelte gjennemløb for at indhente sig selv; og den, der ikke vil gjennemgaae dette Cursus, ham hjælper det saare lidet, om han blev født i den mest oplyste Tidsalder.  
I thought it was the course the single individual runs through in order to catch up with himself; and the one who will not go through this course is helped very little by having been born in the most enlightened age.
> «den Enkelte» — the single individual: «den Enkelte» (the single individual / the particular one) is one of Kierkegaard's signature categories — the one who stands alone before God, not dissolved into the crowd or the age. «Cursus» (Latin) = course, curriculum.

Den uendelige Resignation er det sidste Stadium, der gaaer forud for Troen, saaledes, at Enhver, der ikke har gjort denne Bevægelse, ikke har Troen; thi først i den uendelige Resignation bliver jeg mig selv klar i min evige Gyldighed, og først da kan der være Tale om i Kraft af Troen at gribe Tilværelsen.  
Infinite resignation is the last stage that precedes faith, in such a way that anyone who has not made this movement does not have faith; for only in infinite resignation do I become clear to myself in my eternal validity, and only then can there be any question of grasping existence by virtue of faith.
> «Tro / Troen» — faith: «Tro» (faith), here with the definite article «Troen», is the central concept of the book. Resignation is the last stage before it, not faith itself. «i Kraft af» = 'by virtue of' — the recurring formula «i Kraft af Troen / det Absurde» (by virtue of faith / the absurd).

Vi ville nu lade Troens Ridder give Møde i det omtalte Tilfælde.  
We will now let the knight of faith make his appearance in the case mentioned.
> «Troens Ridder» — the knight of faith: «Troens Ridder» (the knight of faith) is set against «Resignationens Ridder» (the knight of infinite resignation) throughout this section. «give Møde» is an idiom: to appear, to present oneself (as in answering a summons).

Han gjør aldeles det samme, som den anden Ridder, han giver uendeligt Afkald paa den Kjærlighed, der er hans Livs Indhold. han er forsonet i Smerten; men da skeer Vidunderet. han gjør endnu en Bevægelse. forunderligere end Alt, thi han siger: jeg troer dog, at jeg faaer hende, i Kraft. nemlig af det Absurde, i Kraft af, at for Gud er Alting muligt.  
He does exactly the same as the other knight, he infinitely renounces the love that is the content of his life. he is reconciled in the pain; but then the wonder happens. he makes one more movement, more marvelous than anything, for he says: I nevertheless believe that I shall get her — namely, by virtue of the absurd, by virtue of the fact that for God all things are possible.
> «det Absurde» — the absurd: «det Absurde» (the absurd) is what the knight of faith believes by: not the irrational for its own sake, but that for which the understanding has declared the case impossible. The lowercase 'he'/'namely' here, and the stray full stops, are OCR breaks within one continuous sentence — Kierkegaard's clauses run on without these stops.

Det Absurde hører ikke til de Differentser, der ligge indenfor Forstandens eget Omfang.  
The absurd does not belong among the distinctions that lie within the understanding's own compass.
> «Forstanden» — the understanding: «Forstanden» = the understanding, the reasoning faculty (German Verstand). The absurd is not merely an unusual case the understanding can still process; it lies outside the understanding's range altogether — which is why faith, not calculation, is required.

Det er ikke identisk med det Usandsynlige, det Uventede, det Uformodede.  
It is not identical with the improbable, the unexpected, the unforeseen.

I det Øieblik, Ridderen resignerede, da forvissede han sig om Umuligheden, menneskelig talt, dette var Forstandens Resultat, og han havde Energi nok til at tænke det.  
At the moment the knight resigned, he assured himself of the impossibility, humanly speaking; this was the understanding's result, and he had energy enough to think it.

I uendelig Forstand var det derimod muligt, det er ved at resignere derpaa, men denne Besidden er jo tillige en Opgiven, men dog er denne Besidden for Forstanden ingen Absurditet; thi Forstanden vedblev at beholde Ret i, at i den Elendighedens Verden, hvor den hersker, var og blev det en Umulighed.  
In an infinite sense it was, on the contrary, possible — that is, by resigning it; but this possessing is at the same time a relinquishing, yet for the understanding this possessing is no absurdity; for the understanding went on being right that in the world of wretchedness, where it rules, it was and remained an impossibility.
> «Besidden», «Opgiven» — nominalized infinitives: «denne Besidden» (this possessing) and «en Opgiven» (a relinquishing) are nominalized infinitives — verbs used as nouns, a German-flavored construction Kierkegaard favors for abstract states. The paradox: to resign a thing infinitely is, in an eternal sense, to possess it.

Denne Bevidsthed har Troens Ridder ligesaa klar; det Eneste, der altsaa kan frelse ham, er det Absurde, og dette griber han ved Troen.  
The knight of faith has this consciousness just as clearly; the only thing, then, that can save him is the absurd, and this he grasps by faith.

Han erkjender altsaa Umuligheden og i samme Øieblik troer han det Absurde; thi vil han uden med al sin Sjæls Lidenskab og af sit ganske Hjerte at erkjende Umuligheden, indbilde sig at have Troen, da bedrager han sig selv, og hans Vidnesbyrd har intetsteds hjemme, da han end ikke er kommen til den uendelige Resignation.  
He therefore acknowledges the impossibility, and in the same moment he believes the absurd; for if he would, without acknowledging the impossibility with all his soul's passion and with his whole heart, imagine himself to have faith, then he deceives himself, and his testimony has no standing anywhere, since he has not even reached infinite resignation.
> «Lidenskab» — passion: «Lidenskab» (passion) is, for Kierkegaard, not the opposite of seriousness but its engine: faith is reached through 'all the soul's passion', not by cool reflection. «intetsteds hjemme» — literally 'nowhere at home' — means has no standing, no valid place.

| Troen er derfor ingen æsthetisk Rørelse, men noget langt Højere, netop fordi den har Resignationen . forud for sig, den er ikke Hjertets umiddelbare Drift, men Tilværelsens Paradox.  
Faith is therefore no aesthetic emotion, but something far higher, precisely because it has resignation before it; it is not the immediate impulse of the heart, but the paradox of existence.
> «Paradox» — the paradox of existence: «Paradoxet» / «Tilværelsens Paradox» (the paradox of existence) is faith as Kierkegaard defines it against the merely «æsthetisk» (aesthetic) stirring of feeling. The stray «|» and the floating period in «Resignationen . forud» are scanning marks; read «netop fordi den har Resignationen forud for sig» (precisely because it has resignation ahead of / before it).

Naar saaledes en ung Pige tiltrods for alle Vanskeligheder dog holder sig forvisset om, at hendes Ønske vel bliver opfyldt, saa er denne Forvisning slet ikke Troens, og det uagtet hun er opdragen af christelige Forældre, og maaskee et heelt Aar har gaaet til Præsten.  
When in this way a young girl, despite all difficulties, nevertheless remains assured that her wish will indeed be fulfilled, then this assurance is by no means that of faith — and that despite her being raised by Christian parents and having perhaps gone a whole year to the pastor.
> «Forvisning» — assurance, certainty: «Forvisning» (assurance / firm conviction) is the girl's naive certainty that her wish will come true — Kierkegaard sharply distinguishes it from faith, which has first looked the impossibility in the eye. «gaaet til Præsten» = gone to the pastor, i.e. attended confirmation classes.

Hun er forvisset i al sin barnlige Naivetet og Uskyldighed, ogsaa denne Forvisning adler hendes Væsen, og giver hende en overnaturlig Størrelse, saa at hun som en Thaumaturg kan besværge Tilværelsens endelige Kræfter, og bringe Stene selv til at græde, medens hun paa den anden Side i sin Befippethed ligesaa godt kan løbe til Herodes som til Pilatus og røre al Verden med sine Bønner.  
She is assured in all her childlike naivety and innocence, and this assurance too ennobles her being and gives her a supernatural stature, so that, like a thaumaturge, she can conjure the finite powers of existence and bring even stones to weep, while on the other hand, in her bewilderment, she may just as readily run to Herod as to Pilate and move the whole world with her prayers.

Hendes Forvisning er saare elskelig, og man kan lære Meget af hende, men een Ting lærer man ikke af hende, man lærer ikke at gjøre Bevægelser; thi hendes Forvisning tør ikke i Resignationens Smerte see Umuligheden under Øine.  
Her assurance is exceedingly lovable, and one can learn much from her, but one thing one does not learn from her: one does not learn to make movements; for her assurance dares not, in the pain of resignation, look the impossibility in the eye.

Indsee kan jeg da, at der hører Kraft og Energi og Åandens Frihed til at gjøre Resignationens uendelige Bevægelse; jeg kan tillige indsee, at den lader sig gjøre.  
I can indeed see that it takes power and energy and freedom of spirit to make the infinite movement of resignation; I can also see that it can be done.
> «Indsee» fronted — word order for emphasis: The sentence opens «Indsee kan jeg da, at...» — the infinitive «Indsee» (to see / discern) is fronted before subject and verb for emphasis ('See I can indeed...'). Danish allows this topicalization freely; English has to soften it. «Åandens» should read «Aandens» (of the spirit).

Det Næste forbauser mig, min Hjerne vender sig i mit Hoved; thi, efter at have gjort Resignationens Bevægelse, nu i Kraft af det Absurde at faae Alt, faae Ønsket, heelt, ubeskaarent, det er over menneskelige Kræfter, det er et Vidunder.  
The next thing astonishes me, my brain turns in my head; for, having made the movement of resignation, now to get everything by virtue of the absurd, to get the wish, whole, undiminished — that is beyond human powers, that is a wonder.
> «Vidunder» — wonder, miracle: «Vidunder» (wonder, marvel, miracle) names what exceeds human power: to receive the renounced wish back whole. «heelt, ubeskaarent» = whole, undiminished/uncut. Note the doubled vowel in «heelt» (modern «helt»).

Men det kan jeg indsee, at den unge Piges Forvisning kun er Letsindighed i Sammenligning med Troens Urokkelighed, uagtet den har indseet Umuligheden.  
But this I can see, that the young girl's assurance is only frivolity compared with the unshakableness of faith, even though faith has seen the impossibility.

Hver Gang jeg vil gjøre denne Bevægelse, sortner det for mit Øie, i samme Øieblik beundrer jeg det absolut, og i samme Øieblik griber en uhyre Angst min Sjæl, thi hvad er da det at friste Gud?  
Every time I want to make this movement, it goes black before my eye, in the same moment I admire it absolutely, and in the same moment a monstrous dread seizes my soul, for what then is it to tempt God?
> «Angest / Angst» — dread, anxiety: «Angst» (dread, anxiety) — Kierkegaard's great theme, later the title of «Begrebet Angest» (The Concept of Anxiety, 1844). Here a «uhyre Angst» (monstrous dread) seizes the soul at the brink of faith. «at friste Gud» = to tempt / put God to the test.

Og dog er denne Bevægelse Troens, og bliver ved at være det, om saa Philosophien end, for at forvirre Begreberne, vil bilde os ind, at den har Troen, om saa Theologien vil sælge den ud for godt Kjøb.  
And yet this movement is the movement of faith, and goes on being so, even if philosophy, in order to confuse the concepts, would persuade us that it has faith, even if theology would sell it off cheap.

Til at resignere hører der ikke Tro, thi det, jeg i Resignation vinder, er min evige Bevidsthed, og dette mn Er FRE 0. er en reeri philosophisk Bevægelse, som jeg trøster mig til at gjøre, naar forlanges, og som jeg kan tugte mig selv til at gjøre, thi hver Gang nogen Endelighed vil voxe mig overhovedet, da hungrer jeg mig selv ud, indtil jeg gjør Bevægelsen; thi min evige Bevidsthed er min Kjærlighed til Gud, og den er mig høiere end Alt.  
To resign takes no faith, for what I gain in resignation is my eternal consciousness, and this is a purely philosophical movement that I venture to make when it is demanded, and that I can discipline myself into making, for every time some finitude would grow too large for me, then I starve myself out until I make the movement; for my eternal consciousness is my love of God, and that is higher to me than everything.
> OCR noise inside one long sentence: The garbled «og dette mn Er FRE 0. er en reeri philosophisk Bevægelse» should read «og dette er en reen philosophisk Bevægelse» (and this is a purely philosophical movement). «mn Er FRE 0.» and the false period are scanning errors; «reeri» is «reen» (pure; modern «ren»). The clause runs on unbroken.

.Til at resignere hører der ikke Tro, men til at faae det allermindste mere end min evige Bevidsthed hører der Tro, thi dette er det Paradoxe.  
To resign takes no faith, but to get the very least bit more than my eternal consciousness takes faith, for that is the paradoxical thing.
> «det Paradoxe» — the paradoxical thing: «det Paradoxe» (the paradoxical) names the exact pivot of the book: resignation gives back the eternal self and needs no faith, but to receive anything finite back on top of that — the renounced beloved, in time — is precisely the paradox that requires faith. The leading «.Til» carries a stray scanning period.

Man forvexler ofte Bevægelserne.  
People often confuse the movements.

Man siger, at man behøver Troen for at give Afkald paa Alt, ja man hører det endnu Besynderligere, at et Menneske klager over, at han har tabt Troen, og naar man seer efter paa Scalaen, for at see, hvor han er, seer man besynderlig nok, at han kun er kommen til det Punkt, at han skal gjøre Resignationens—” uendelige Bevægelse.  
People say that one needs faith in order to renounce everything — indeed, one hears something even stranger: that a person complains of having lost faith, and when one looks on the scale to see where he is, one sees, strangely enough, that he has only got to the point where he is to make the infinite movement of resignation.
> «give Afkald paa» — to renounce: «give Afkald paa» is the fixed phrase for renouncing / giving up a claim to something — the act of resignation. Kierkegaard's joke: people misplace themselves on the «Scala» (scale) of the spiritual movements, mistaking mere resignation for lost faith. The «—”» before «uendelige» is a stray scanning mark.

Ved Resignationen giver jeg Afkald paa Alt, denne Bevægelse gjør jeg ved mig selv, og naar jeg ikke gjør det, da er det fordi jeg er feig og blødagtig og uden Begeistring og ikke føler Betydningen af den høie Værdighed, ethvert Menneske er anviist, at være sin egen Censor, hvilket er meget fornemmere end at være General-Censor for hele den romerske Republik.  
By resignation I renounce everything, this movement I make by myself, and when I do not make it, then it is because I am cowardly and soft and without inspiration and do not feel the significance of the high dignity assigned to every person: to be his own censor — which is far more distinguished than being censor-general for the whole Roman Republic.

Denne Bevægelse gjør jeg ved mig selv, og det, jeg derfor vinder, er mig selv i min evige Bevidsthed, i salig Forstaaelse med min Kjærlighed ti det evige Væsen.  
This movement I make by myself, and what I therefore gain is myself in my eternal consciousness, in blessed accord with my love of the eternal being.
> «salig» — blessed: «salig» means blessed, beatified (German selig); «i salig Forstaaelse med» = in blessed understanding/accord with. The OCR «ti» should read «til» (to/of): «min Kjærlighed til det evige Væsen» — my love of the eternal being (God).

Ved Troen giver jeg ikke Afkald paa Noget, tværtimod ved Troen faaer jeg Alt, netop i den Forstand, i hvilken det hedder, at den, som har Tro som et Sennepskorn, kan flytte Bjerge.  
By faith I renounce nothing, on the contrary, by faith I receive everything — precisely in the sense in which it is said that he who has faith like a grain of mustard seed can move mountains.

Der hører et reent menneskeligt Mod til at give Afkald paa hele Timeligheden, for at vinde Evigheden, men denne vinder jeg, og kan i al Evighed ikke give Afkald paa, det er en Selvmodsigelse; men der hører et paradox og ydmygt Mod til nu at gribe hele Timeligheden i Kraft af det Absurde, og dette Mod er Troens.  
It takes a purely human courage to renounce all temporality in order to win eternity, but this I do win, and in all eternity cannot renounce — that would be a self-contradiction; but it takes a paradoxical and humble courage to grasp the whole of temporality now, by virtue of the absurd, and this courage is the courage of faith.
> «Timelighed» vs «Evighed» — temporality and eternity: «Timeligheden» (temporality, the temporal/finite) is opposed to «Evigheden» (eternity). Resignation wins eternity by giving up temporality; faith's harder, humbler courage is to grasp temporality back — to want the finite again, now.

Ved Troen gav Abraham ikke Afkald paa Isaak, men ved Troen fik Abraham Isaak.  
By faith Abraham did not renounce Isaac, but by faith Abraham received Isaac.

I Kraft af Resignationen skulde hiin rige Yngling have bortgivet Alt, men naar han da havde gjort det, da skulde Troens Ridder have sagt til ham: I Kraft af det Absurde skal Du faae hver en Hvid igjen, kan Du troe det.  
By virtue of resignation that rich young man should have given everything away, but when he had then done so, the knight of faith should have said to him: by virtue of the absurd you shall get every penny back — can you believe that.

Og denne Tale skal ingenlunde være den forhen rige Yngling ligegyldig; thi dersom han bortgav sit Gods, fordi han er kjed deraf, da var det daarligt bevendt med hans Resignation.  
And this speech should by no means be a matter of indifference to the formerly rich young man; for if he gave his goods away because he was tired of them, then his resignation was in a bad way.

Timeligheden, Endeligheden er det, hvorom Alt dreier sig.  
Temporality, finitude is what everything turns on.
> «Endeligheden» — finitude: «Endeligheden» (finitude, the finite) pairs with «Timeligheden» (temporality). Kierkegaard insists that faith, unlike resignation, is about precisely this — the finite, temporal world — not a flight from it into the eternal.

Jeg kan ved egen Kraft resignere paa Alt, og da finde Fred og Hvile i Smerten, jeg kan finde mig i Alt, selv om hiin rædsomme Dæmon, forfærdeligere end Knokkelmanden, der forskrækker Menneskene, selv om Vanvidet holdt Narredragten op for mit Øie, og jeg forstod dens Mine, at det var mig, der skulde iføre mig den, jeg kan endnu frelse min Sjæl, dersom det ellers er mig mere om at gjøre, at min Kjærlighed til Gud seirer i mig, end min jordiske Lykke.  
By my own power I can resign everything, and then find peace and rest in the pain, I can reconcile myself to everything — even if that dreadful demon, more horrifying than the skeleton-man who terrifies people, even if madness held the fool's costume up before my eye, and I understood from its look that it was I who was to put it on, I can still save my soul, provided that it matters more to me that my love of God triumph in me than my earthly happiness.

Et Menneske kan endnu i dette sidste Øieblik samle hele sin Sjæl i eet eneste Blik mod den Himmel, fra hvilken al god Gave kommer, og dette Blik skal være forstaaeligt for ham og for den, hvem det søger, at han dog blev sin Kjærlighed tro.  
A person can, even in this last moment, gather his whole soul into one single glance toward the heaven from which every good gift comes, and this glance shall be intelligible to him and to the one whom it seeks: that he, after all, remained true to his love.

Da skal han rolig iføre sig Dragten.  
Then he shall calmly put on the costume.

Den, hvis Sjæl ikke har denne Romantik, har solgt sin Sjæl, hvad enten han nu fik et Kongerige for den, eller en ussel Sølvpenge.  
The one whose soul does not have this romance has sold his soul, whether he now got a kingdom for it or a miserable piece of silver.
> «Romantik» — romance, inward poetry: «Romantik» here is not a love affair but the inner poetic resolve — the soul's capacity for this heroic inwardness. To lack it is to have 'sold one's soul', whether the price was a kingdom or a wretched coin («ussel Sølvpenge»).

Men ved egen Kraft kan jeg ikke faae det Mindste af hvad der tilhører Endeligheden; thi jeg bruger bestandig min Kraft til at resignere paa Alt.  
But by my own power I cannot get the least bit of what belongs to finitude; for I constantly use my power to resign everything.

Ved egen Kraft kan jeg opgive Prindsessen, og jeg skal ikke blive nogen Suurmuler, men finde Glæde og Fred og Hvile i min Smerte, men ved egen Kraft kan jeg ikke faae hende igjen, thi jeg bruger netop min Kraft til at resignere.  
By my own power I can give up the Princess, and I shall not become any sourpuss but find joy and peace and rest in my pain, but by my own power I cannot get her back, for I use precisely my power to resign.
> «Suurmuler» — sourpuss: «Suurmuler» (literally 'sour-muzzle') is a homely, almost comic word for a sulker or grumbler — the resigned knight is no embittered sourpuss. The doubled vowel «Suur» = modern «sur» (sour).

Men ved Troen, siger hiin vidunderlige Ridder, ved Troen skal Du faae hende i Kraft af det Absurde.  
But by faith, says that wonderful knight, by faith you shall get her by virtue of the absurd.

See denne Bevægelse kan jeg ikke gjøre.  
See, this movement I cannot make.

Saasnart jeg vil begynde derpaa, vender Alt sig om, og jeg flygter tilbage i Resignationens Smerte.  
As soon as I want to begin on it, everything turns around, and I flee back into the pain of resignation.

Jeg kan svømme i Livet, men til denne mystiske Svæven er jeg for tung.”  
I can swim in life, but for this mystical hovering I am too heavy.”
> «Svæven» — hovering, floating: «Svæven» is a nominalized infinitive (from «svæve», to hover/float) — the mystical 'hovering' of faith above existence. The narrator can swim in life (resignation) but is too heavy for this suspension. The closing «”» is the OCR rendering of the closing guillemet «».

Åt existere saaledes, at min Modsætning til Existentsen 1 ethvert Øjeblik udtrykker sig som den skjønneste og tryggeste Harmoni med den, det kan jeg ikke.  
To exist in such a way that my opposition to existence expresses itself at every moment as the most beautiful and most secure harmony with it — that I cannot do.
> «Åt existere» — to exist: «Åt existere» should read «At existere» (to exist) — the stray ring over the A is a scanning artifact. «Existents / Existentsen» (existence) and the verb «existere» point ahead to Kierkegaard's existential thought; «Modsætning» = opposition. The numeral «1» mid-sentence is OCR noise for «i» (in/at).

Og dog maa det være herligt at faae Prindsessen, det siger jeg ethvert Øieblik, og den Besignationens Ridder, der ikke siger det, han er en Bedrager, han har ikke havt et eneste Ønske, og han har ikke holdt Ønsket ungt i sin Smerte.  
And yet it must be glorious to get the Princess, that I say at every moment, and the knight of resignation who does not say it is a deceiver, he has not had a single wish, and he has not kept the wish young in his pain.
> «Besignationens» — OCR for Resignationens: «den Besignationens Ridder» should read «den Resignationens Ridder» (the knight of resignation) — the capital B is a scanning error for R. The true knight must keep the wish «ungt» (young) and aching; one who feels nothing is a «Bedrager» (deceiver).

Maaskee var der den, der fandt det beqvemt nok, at Ønsket ikke mere var levende, at Smertens Piil var sløvet;. men en saadan er ingen Ridder.  
Perhaps there was the one who found it convenient enough that the wish was no longer alive, that the arrow of pain had been blunted; but such a one is no knight.
> «beqvemt» — convenient, comfortable: «beqvemt» (modern «bekvemt», with «qv» for «kv») means convenient, comfortable. «Smertens Piil var sløvet» = the arrow of pain had grown blunt. The stray «;.» joining two clauses is scanning noise; read «var sløvet; men en saadan er ingen Ridder».

En fribaaren Sjæl, der greb sig deri, han vilde foragte sig selv, og begynde forfra, og fremfor Alt ikke tillade sin Sjæl at være bedragen ved sig selv.  
A free-born soul who caught himself in that would despise himself, and begin over from the start, and above all not allow his soul to be deceived by itself.
> «fribaaren Sjæl» — a free-born soul: «fribaaren» (free-born), with the doubled vowel «aa» for «å» (modern «fribåren»). Such a soul, catching itself growing comfortable with a dead wish, would scorn the lapse and begin again rather than let itself be self-deceived.

Og dog maa det være herligt at faae Prindsessen, og dog er Troens Ridder den eneste Lykkelige, Endelighedens Stamherre, medens Resignationens Ridder er en Fremmed og-Udlænding.  
And yet it must be glorious to get the Princess, and yet the knight of faith is the only happy one, the lord of finitude, while the knight of resignation is a stranger and a foreigner.
> «Stamherre» — lord of finitude: «Stamherre» = the lord/proprietor of an entailed hereditary estate (the current possessor, not a future heir). The knight of faith is the lord of «Endeligheden» (finitude) — he possesses the finite world, having received it back through faith — whereas the knight of resignation remains «en Fremmed og Udlænding» (a stranger and a foreigner) to it. The standard scholarly translation renders «Endelighedens Stamherre» as 'lord of the finite'. «og-Udlænding» carries a stray scanning hyphen.

Saaledes at faae Prindsessen, at leve glad og lykkelig, Dag ud og Dag ind med hende, (thi ogsaa dette lod sig jo tænke, at Resignationens Ridder kunde faae Prindsessen, men hans Sjæl. havde gjennemskuet Umuligheden af deres Fremtids Lykke), saaledes at leve glad og lykkelig hvert Øieblik i Kraft af det Absurde, hvert Øieblik see Sværdet svæve over den Elskedes Hoved, og dog ikke finde Hvile i Resignationens Smerte, men Glæde i Kraft af det Absurde — det er Vidunderligt.  
Thus to win the princess, to live glad and happy, day in and day out, with her — (for this too was conceivable, that the knight of resignation might win the princess, yet his soul had seen through the impossibility of their future happiness) — thus to live glad and happy every instant by virtue of the absurd, every instant to see the sword hanging over the beloved's head, and yet not to find rest in the pain of resignation, but joy by virtue of the absurd — that is wondrous.
> «i Kraft af det Absurde» — by virtue of the absurd: «i Kraft af det Absurde» (by virtue of the absurd) is the signature phrase for the movement of faith: the knight of faith gives everything up in infinite «Resignation», yet receives it all back through a belief that reason calls impossible. It is set against «Resignationens Smerte», the pain of mere resignation. Note the period spelling «Øieblik» (instant; modern «øjeblik») and «faae» (modern «få»).

Den, der gjør det, han er stor, den eneste Store, Tanken derom bevæger min Sjæl, der aldrig var karrig i at beundre det Store.  
He who does it is great, the only great one; the thought of it moves my soul, which was never stingy in admiring greatness.
> «gjør» — does (period «gj»): «gjør» is the 1843 spelling of «gør» (does), keeping the «gj» cluster before a front vowel that modern Danish has dropped. Compare «gjennemskuet» in the previous sentence. Note also the topicalizing word order: «Den, der gjør det, han er stor» literally 'He who does it, he is great' — a resumptive «han» picks up the fronted relative clause for emphasis.

Dersom nu virkelig Enhver i min Samtid, der ikke vil blive staaende ved Troen, er en Mand, der har fattet Livets Rædsel, der har forstaaet, hvad Daub mener, naar han siger, at en Soldat. der ene staaer paa Post med skarpladt Gevær, ved et Krudttaarn, i en Uveirs-Nat, faaer besynderlige Tanker; dersom nu virkelig Enhver, der ikke vil blive staaende ved Troen, er en Mand, der havde Sjæls Kraft til at fatte og derpaa gav sig Tid til at blive eensom med den Tanke, at Ønsket var en Umulighed; dersom Enhver, der ikke vil blive staaende ved Troen, er en Mand, der i Smerten forsonedes og forsonedes ved Smerten, dersom Enhver, der ikke vil blive staaende ved Troen, er en Mand, der dernæst (og hvis han ikke har gjort alt det Foregaaende, saa skal han ikke uleilige sig, naar der er Tale om Troen) gjorde det Vidunderlige, greb hele Tilværelsen i Kraft af det Absurde — saa er hvad jeg skriver den høieste Lovtale over Samtiden, af den Ringeste i den, der kun kunde gjøre Resignationens Bevægelse.  
If now every single person in my generation who refuses to halt at faith really is a man who has grasped the horror of life, who has understood what Daub means when he says that a soldier standing alone on watch, with a loaded rifle, beside a powder-magazine, on a stormy night, gets strange thoughts; if now every single person who refuses to halt at faith really is a man who had the strength of soul to grasp, and who then gave himself time to grow alone with the thought that the wish was an impossibility; if every single person who refuses to halt at faith is a man who was reconciled in the pain and reconciled through the pain; if every single person who refuses to halt at faith is a man who next (and if he has not done all the foregoing, he need not trouble himself when the talk is of faith) did the wondrous thing, seized all existence by virtue of the absurd — then what I write is the highest eulogy upon my generation, written by the least person in it, the one who could only make the movement of resignation.
> «Dersom … dersom … dersom» — stacked conditions: «Dersom» means 'if' (a formal variant of «hvis»). Kierkegaard builds a towering anaphora — four «dersom» clauses piled up before «saa» ('then') finally delivers the apodosis. Note the period preterites «forsonedes» (was reconciled, a passive/medio-passive in -des) and the spelling «høieste» (highest; modern «højeste»).

Men hvorfor vil man da ikke blive staaende ved den, hvorfor hører man stundom, at Folk undsee sig ved at bekjende, at de have Troen?  
But why then will people not halt at it; why does one sometimes hear that folk are ashamed to confess that they have faith?
> «de have» — old plural verb form: «de have Troen» uses the old plural verb ending «-e» (have, 'they have') that 19th-century written Danish kept and modern Danish has abandoned for the invariant «de har». Likewise «undsee sig» = 'are ashamed', with the reflexive «sig».

Dette kan jeg ikke fatte.  
This I cannot grasp.

Dersom jeg nogenSinde driver det til at kunne gjøre denne Bevægelse, da vil jeg for Fremtiden kjøre med 4å Heste.  
If I ever manage to be able to make this movement, then in future I will drive with four horses.
> «4å Heste» — driving with four horses: Read «4å Heste» as «4 Heste» (four horses) — the stray «å» is an artifact of the source edition, preserved verbatim per our policy. To 'drive with four horses' meant to ride in grand, lordly style; Kierkegaard jokes that he would make a triumphal show of himself if he ever managed the movement of faith. Note period «kjøre» (drive; modern «køre») with the «kj» cluster.

Er det virkelig saa, er al den Spidsborgerlighed, jeg seer i Livet, som jeg ikke lader mit Ord men min Gjerning dømme, er den virkelig ikke hvad den synes, er den Vidunderet?  
Is it really so — is all the bourgeois philistinism I see in life, which I let not my word but my deed judge, really not what it seems — is it the wonder?
> «Spidsborgerlighed» — philistinism: «Spidsborgerlighed» (from the German Spießbürger) is narrow, smug bourgeois conventionality — the dull respectability Kierkegaard everywhere needles. The teasing question: might that very ordinariness secretly be «Vidunderet», the wonder of faith hiding in plain sight, the way the knight of faith looks like any tax-collector?

Det lod sig jo tænke; thi hiin Troens Helt havde jo en paafaldende Lighed dermed; thi hiin Troens Helt var end ikke Ironiker og Humorist, men noget endnu Højere.  
It is indeed conceivable; for that hero of faith bore a striking resemblance to it; for that hero of faith was not even an ironist or a humorist, but something still higher.
> «hiin» — that (yonder): «hiin» (that, yonder) is an archaic demonstrative, more remote and elevated than «den» — modern Danish has lost it. «thi» = 'for, because' (causal), another period conjunction. Together they give the prose its old, sermon-like cadence.

Der tales i vor Tid meget om Ironi og Humor, især af Folk, som aldrig have formaaet at praktisere deri, men som desuagtet vide at forklare Alt.  
In our age much is talked of irony and humor, especially by people who have never managed to practice them, but who nonetheless know how to explain everything.
> «Der tales» — impersonal passive: «Der tales … meget om» is an impersonal s-passive: literally 'there is talked much about', i.e. 'much is talked of'. Only «tales» carries the «-s» of the s-passive. «have» and «vide» are the old plural present-tense forms with the period -e ending (de have = 'they have', de vide = 'they know') — a separate morphological feature, not s-passives. This s-passive is a workhorse of Danish that lets the verb stand without a named agent.

Jeg er ikke ganske ubekjendt med disse tvende Lidenskaber, jeg veed lidt mere om dem end hvad der staaer i tydske og tydsk-danske Compendier.  
I am not wholly unacquainted with these two passions; I know a little more about them than what stands in German and German-Danish compendiums.
> «tvende» — two (archaic): «tvende» is an old literary word for 'two', loftier than «to» — Kierkegaard reaches for it deliberately. Note period spellings «tydske» (German; modern «tyske») and «veed» (know; modern «ved»), and the jab at the «Compendier», the dry German handbooks of the day.

Jeg veed derfor, at disse tvende Lidenskaber ere væsentlig forskjellige fra Troens Lidenskab.  
I therefore know that these two passions are essentially different from the passion of faith.
> «ere» — old plural 'are': «ere» is the old plural of 'to be' (they are; modern «er»), matching the old plural endings seen earlier («have», «vide»). «forskjellige» (different) again shows the period «kj» cluster before a front vowel.

Ironi og Humor reflektere ogsaa paa sig selv og høre derfor hjemme i den uendelige Resignations Sphære, de have deres Elasticitet i, at Individet er incommensurabelt for Virkeligheden.  
Irony and humor also reflect upon themselves and therefore belong in the sphere of infinite resignation; they have their elasticity in the fact that the individual is incommensurable with actuality.
> «den uendelige Resignation» — infinite resignation: «den uendelige Resignations Sphære» = the sphere of infinite resignation, the stage just below faith: the self has renounced the world and withdrawn into itself. Irony and humor live here because they too set the «Individet» apart from «Virkeligheden» (actuality) — «incommensurabelt» (incommensurable) means there is no common measure between them.

Den sidste Bevægelse, Troens paradoxe Bevægelse, kan jeg ikke gjøre, det være nu Pligt eller hvad det er, uagtet jeg hellere end gjerne vilde det.  
The last movement, the paradoxical movement of faith, I cannot make — be it now duty or whatever it is — although I would dearly love to.
> «Troens paradoxe Bevægelse» — the paradoxical movement of faith: Faith is the double movement: infinite resignation, and then — by virtue of the absurd — receiving the finite back. Kierkegaard's narrator confesses he can make only the first. «det være nu Pligt» is an optative/concessive subjunctive ('be it duty…'), and «hellere end gjerne» ('rather than gladly') is an idiom meaning 'more than gladly, most willingly'.

Om et Menneske har Lov til at sige dette, det maa overlades til ham; det bliver en Sag mellem ham og det evige Væsen, der er Troens Gjenstand, om han i denne Henseende kan træffe en mindelig Overeenskomst.  
Whether a person has the right to say this must be left to him; it becomes a matter between him and the eternal Being who is the object of faith, whether in this respect he can reach an amicable settlement.
> «Om» — whether: Sentence-initial «Om … har Lov til» means 'whether', introducing an indirect yes/no question, not 'about'. «det evige Væsen» (the eternal Being) is God as «Troens Gjenstand», the object of faith; «Overeenskomst» (agreement) shows the doubled vowel «ee» of the period spelling (modern «Overenskomst»).

Hvad ethvert Menneske kan, det er, han kan gjøre den uendelige Resignations Bevægelse, og jeg for mit Vedkommende vilde ikke tage i Betænkning, at erklære Enhver den for feig, der vil indbilde sig, at han ikke kan det.  
What every person can do is this: he can make the movement of infinite resignation; and I for my part would not hesitate to declare a coward anyone who wants to persuade himself that he cannot.
> «tage i Betænkning» — to hesitate: «tage i Betænkning» is a set phrase: to have scruples about, to hesitate to do something. The fronting «Hvad ethvert Menneske kan, det er …» ('What every person can do, that is …') uses a resumptive «det» to set up the answer, a favorite Kierkegaardian rhythm.

Med Troen er det en anden Sag.  
With faith it is another matter.

Men hvad ethvert Menneske ikke har Lov til, det er, at indbilde Andre, at Troen er noget Ringe eller at den er en let Sag, medens den er det Største og det Sværeste.  
But what no person has the right to do is to make others believe that faith is something paltry, or that it is an easy matter, when it is the greatest and the hardest of all.
> «det Største og det Sværeste» — the greatest and the hardest: The whole polemic in one line: faith is «det Største» (the greatest) and «det Sværeste» (the hardest), not «noget Ringe» (something paltry) or «en let Sag» (an easy matter). «indbilde Andre, at …» = to make others believe, to delude others into thinking.

Man opfatter Fortællingen om Abraham paa en anden Maade.  
People understand the story of Abraham in another way.

Man lovpriser Guds Naade, at han skjænkede ham Isaak igjen, det Hele var kun en Prøvelse.  
People praise God's grace, that he gave Isaac back to him — the whole thing was only a trial.
> «Prøvelse» — trial, testing: «Prøvelse» is a trial or ordeal, the testing of Abraham — Kierkegaard will turn the word over and over in what follows, complaining that the easy retelling lets it slip by 'as quickly as it is said'. Note period «skjænkede» (gave, bestowed; «kj» cluster) and «igjen» (again, back; modern «igen»).

En Prøvelse, dette Ord kan sige Meget og Lidet, og dog er det Hele saa hurtigt forbi som det er sagt.  
A trial — this word can say much and little, and yet the whole thing is over as quickly as it is said.

Man bestiger en bevinget Hest, i samme Nu er man paa Morija-Bjerget, i samme Nu seer man Væderen; man glemmer, at Abraham kun reed paa et Æsel, der gaaer langsomt hen ad Veien, at han havde tre Dages Reise, at han behøvede nogen Tid for at kløve Brændet, binde Isaak, og for at hvæsse Kniven.  
People mount a winged horse, and in that same instant they are on Mount Moriah, in that same instant they see the ram; they forget that Abraham rode only on an ass, which goes slowly along the road, that he had a three days' journey, that he needed some time to cleave the firewood, bind Isaac, and whet the knife.

Og dog lovpriser man Abraham.  
And yet people praise Abraham.

Den, der skal tale, han kan godt sove indtil det sidste Qvarteer før han skal tale, Tilhøreren kan godt falde i Søvn under Talen; thi Alt gaaer nemt nok, uden Uleilighed fra nogen af Siderne.  
He who is to speak may well sleep until the last quarter-hour before he must speak; the listener may well fall asleep during the speech — for everything goes easily enough, without trouble from either side.
> «Qvarteer» — quarter-hour (period spelling): «Qvarteer» (a quarter of an hour) shows two period features at once: the «Qv-» where modern Danish writes «Kv-» («Kvarter»), and the doubled «ee». «Uleilighed» = trouble, inconvenience (modern «ulejlighed»).

Hvis der var en Mand tilstede, som leed af Søvnløshed, da gik han maaskee hjem, satte sig hen i en Krog og tænkte: det er et Øiebliks Sag det Hele, blot Du venter en Minut, saa seer Du Væderen, og Prøvelsen er forbi.  
If there were a man present who suffered from sleeplessness, then perhaps he would go home, sit down in a corner, and think: the whole thing is a matter of an instant — only wait a minute, and you will see the ram, and the trial is over.

Traf Taleren ham i denne Tilstand, da tænker jeg, han vilde træde frem for ham i al sin Værdighed og sige: ,Elendige, at Du kan lade Din Sjæl synke i slig Daarskab; der skeer intet Mirakel, og hele Livet er en Prøvelse.”  
Were the speaker to meet him in this state, then I think he would step before him in all his dignity and say: „Wretch, that you can let your soul sink into such folly; no miracle happens, and the whole of life is a trial.”
> «Traf Taleren …» — verb-first conditional: «Traf Taleren ham …» ('Were the speaker to meet him …') puts the verb first to mean 'if' — a conditional without «hvis», common in elevated Danish. Note the low opening quote «,Elendige» and closing «”», preserved verbatim from the source edition; «Daarskab» (folly) and «skeer» (happens) are period spellings.

Altsom Taleren foer frem i sin Udgydelse, kom han mere og mere i Affect, blev gladere og gladere over sig selv, og medens han ingen Blodcongestion havde bemærket, da han talede om Abraham, følte han nu, hvorledes Åaren svulmede i hans Pande.  
As the speaker rushed on in his outpouring, he worked himself more and more into a passion, grew gladder and gladder with himself, and whereas he had noticed no rush of blood while he spoke of Abraham, he now felt how the vein swelled in his forehead.
> «Åaren» — the vein: Read «Åaren» as «Aaren» (the vein; modern «Åren») — the form here is a quirk of the source edition, preserved verbatim. The comic touch: the orator stayed cold describing Abraham's terror, but his own vanity makes his forehead vein bulge. «Altsom» = 'as, in proportion as'; «kom i Affect» = worked himself into a passion.

Maaskee vilde han tabe Næse og Mund, hvis Synderen roligt og værdigt svarede: det var jo derom Du prædikede sidste Søndag.  
Perhaps he would lose his composure if the sinner calmly and with dignity answered: but that is exactly what you preached about last Sunday.
> «tabe Næse og Mund» — to be dumbfounded: «tabe Næse og Mund» (literally 'to lose nose and mouth') is an idiom: to be utterly taken aback, struck speechless. The sting: the sleepless 'sinner' would only be drawing the orator's own Sunday sermon to its logical end. «jo» here is a flavoring particle — 'why, as you know'.

Lad os saa enten slaae en Streg over Abraham, eller lad os lære at forfærdes ved det uhyre Paradox, der er hans Livs Betydning, at vi maae forstaae, at vor Tid, ligesom enhver Tid, kan være glad, om den har Troen.  
Let us then either strike a line through Abraham, or let us learn to be horrified at the monstrous paradox that is the meaning of his life, so that we may understand that our age, like every age, can be glad if it has faith.
> «det uhyre Paradox» — the monstrous paradox: «det uhyre Paradox» (the monstrous, enormous paradox) is the book's central term: faith holds together what reason cannot, and to face Abraham honestly is to «forfærdes», to be horrified, not soothed. «slaae en Streg over» = to strike out, write off; «maae» = may/must (modern «må»).

Dersom Abraham ikke er en Nullitet, et Phantom, noget Stads, man bruger til Tidsfordriv, saa kan Feilen aldrig ligge i, at Synderen vilde gjøre ligesaa, men det gjælder om at see, hvor Stort det var, som Abraham gjorde, for at Manden kan dømme sig selv, om han har Kald og Mod til at forsøges i Sligt.  
If Abraham is not a nullity, a phantom, a showpiece one uses to pass the time, then the fault can never lie in the sinner's wanting to do likewise; but the point is to see how great was what Abraham did, so that the man can judge himself, whether he has the calling and the courage to be tested in such a thing.
> «Nullitet … noget Stads» — nullity, a showpiece: «Nullitet» (a nullity, a nobody) and «noget Stads … til Tidsfordriv» (a showpiece for passing time) are Kierkegaard's scorn for an Abraham emptied of terror. The logic: if Abraham truly matters, the longing to imitate him cannot be the error — the error is failing to see how great the deed was. «forsøges» = to be tested/tried (s-passive); «Sligt» = 'such a thing'.

Den comiske Modsigelse i Talerens Adfærd var, at han gjorde Abraham til en Ubetydelighed, og dog vilde formene den Anden at bære sig ad paa samme Maade.  
The comic contradiction in the speaker's conduct was that he made Abraham into a triviality, and yet would forbid the other to behave in the same way.
> «formene» — to forbid, deny: «formene nogen at …» means to forbid or deny someone (the right) to do something — not modern «formene», 'to suppose'. The «comiske Modsigelse» (comic contradiction) is exact: shrink Abraham to a «Ubetydelighed» (a triviality) and then, illogically, ban anyone from copying him. «bære sig ad» = to behave, go about it.

Skulde man da ikke turde tale om Abraham?  
Should one then not dare to speak of Abraham?

Det troer jeg dog nok.  
I rather think one should.
> «troer» — believe (period spelling): «troer» is the 1843 spelling of «tror» (believe, think), keeping the «-e-» before the ending. The little chain «dog nok» softens and affirms at once: 'I do rather think so', answering his own rhetorical question.

Hvis jeg skulde tale om ham, da vilde jeg først skildre Prøvelsens Smerte.  
If I were to speak of him, then I would first depict the pain of the trial.

Til den Ende vilde jeg som en Igle suge al Angst og Nød og Qval ud af en Faders Lidelse, for at jeg kunde beskrive, hvad Abraham leed, medens han dog under alt dette troede.  
To that end I would, like a leech, suck all the dread and distress and torment out of a father's suffering, so that I could describe what Abraham endured while yet, through it all, he believed.
> «Angst» — dread, anguish: «Angst» (dread, anguish) is a load-bearing Kierkegaardian word, later the title of «Begrebet Angest» (The Concept of Anxiety, 1844). Here it is heaped with «Nød» (distress) and «Qval» (torment, period «Q-»). The leech image is deliberate: the speaker must draw out every drop of a father's suffering before he may praise the faith that survived it.

Jeg vilde minde om, at Reisen varede 3 Dage og et godt Stykke op paa den åde, ja disse halvfjerde Dag skulde blive uendelig meget længere end det Par tusind Aar, der adskiller mig fra Abraham.  
I would call to mind that the journey lasted three days and a good way into the fourth, indeed that these three-and-a-half days would become infinitely much longer than the couple of thousand years that separate me from Abraham.
> «halvfjerde» — three and a half: «halvfjerde» means 'three and a half' (literally 'half-fourth', i.e. three whole plus the fourth only half), an old counting idiom. «op paa den åde» should be read «op paa den fjerde» (into the fourth day) — the «åde» is a defect of the source edition, kept verbatim. The point is psychological time: those slow days stretch longer than the millennia between Kierkegaard and Abraham.

Da vilde jeg minde om, hvad der er min Mening, at ethvert Menneske tør endnu vende om, inden han begynder paa Sligt, og hvert Øieblik kan angrende vende tilbage.  
Then I would call to mind, which is my view, that every person may still turn back before he begins on such a thing, and at every instant may in repentance turn around.
> «tør» — may, dare: «tør» (here 'may, is permitted to / dare') is the present of the modal «turde». «angrende» is the present participle 'repenting', used adverbially: to turn back 'in repentance'. Kierkegaard insists the road to faith always leaves an exit — one may still repent and return.

Gjør man dette, saa frygter jeg ingen Fare, ei heller frygter jeg for, at vække Lyst hos Folk til at forsøges i Lighed med Abraham.  
If one does this, then I fear no danger, nor do I fear awakening in people a desire to be tested in the likeness of Abraham.
> «ei heller» — nor: «ei heller» (nor, neither) uses «ei», the old negation that modern Danish has replaced with «ikke» (kept in fixed phrases like «ej heller»). The opening «Gjør man dette, saa …» ('If one does this, then …') is again a verb-first conditional without «hvis».

Men vil man afhænde en Godtkjøbs-Udgave af Abraham, og dog formene Enhver at gjøre ligesaa, da er det latterligt.  
But if one wants to peddle a bargain-price edition of Abraham, and yet forbid everyone to do likewise, then it is ridiculous.
> «Godtkjøbs-Udgave» — a bargain-price edition: «Godtkjøbs-Udgave» is a cheap, 'bought-cheap' edition («godt Kjøb» = a good buy, a bargain) — the watered-down Abraham of the easy sermon. The contradiction returns from §30: sell faith on the cheap and then forbid anyone to buy it. Note period «Kjøbs» («kj» cluster; modern «køb»).

Det er da nu min Agt af Fortællingen om Abraham i Form af Problemata at uddrage det Dialektiske, 'der ligger i den, for at see, hvilket uhyre Paradox Troen er, et Paradox, der formaaer at gjøre et Mord til en hellig og gudvelbehagelig Handling, et Paradox, der giver Abraham Isaak igjen, hvilket ingen Tænkning kan bemægtige sig, fordi Troen netop begynder der, hvor Tænkningen hører op.  
It is then now my intention to draw out from the story of Abraham, in the form of Problemata, the dialectical element that lies within it, in order to see what a monstrous paradox faith is — a paradox that is able to make a murder into a holy act pleasing to God, a paradox that gives Abraham Isaac back, which no thinking can master, because faith begins precisely there, where thinking leaves off.
---

Source text: public domain (Søren Kierkegaard, d. 1855; first published 1843, under the pseudonym Johannes de silentio). English translation: © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC — original draft, pending editorial review. NOTE: minimal seed excerpt; the 1843 Danish should be verified against Søren Kierkegaards Skrifter (SKS) before shipping, and full content is authored through the content pipeline.