Of his sons-and he had three,
Th'eldest sharp was as could be;
Second was nor dull nor bright,
But the third-a fool all right. <...> Now, these brothers planted wheat,
Brought it to the royal seat,
By which token you may know
That they hadn't far to go. <...> There they sold their golden grain
Counted carefully their gain
And, with well-filled money bags,
Home again would turn their nags. <...> But, upon an evil day,
Dire misfortune came their waySomeone, 'twixt the dark and dawn,
Took to trampling down their corn;
Never had such grief before
Come to visit at their door;
Day and night they sat and thought
How the villain could be caught,
Till at last it dawned upon them
That the way to solve the problem
And to save their crops from harm
Was, each night to guard their farm. <...> As the day drew near its close,
Up the eldest brother rose
And, with pitchfork, axe in hand,
Started out his watch to stand
Dark and stormy was the night,
He was overcome with fright
And, of all his wits deprived,
In the nearest haystack dived. <...> Slowly night gave way to day;
Our brave watchman left his hay,
And, with water from the well,
Soused himself-then, with a yell,
Pounded on the cottage door;
And you should have heard him roar!
"Hey, you sleepy owls," cried he-
"Open up the door-it's me! <...> First, in prayer he bent his head,
Cleared his throat, and then he said
(After bowing left and right):
"Why-I never slept all night! <...> You have served me well, my son,
I can only say, well done! <...> You have proved that you're a man
And have not disgraced me, Dan!"
As next day drew near its close,
Up the second brother rose
And, with pitchfork, axe in hand,
Also went his watch to stand. <...> Teeth a-chatt'ring in his head,
Freezing, from his post he fled. <...> But the morning came at last,
Found him on the porch once more <...>
Pyotr_Yershov._The_little_humpbacked_horse.pdf
Pyotr Yershov. The little humpbacked horse
--------------------------------------------------------------1834
"Конек Горбунок" Illustrated by N.M. Kochergin
Translated from the Russian by Louis Zellikoff
Designed by Yuri Kapylov,
First printing 1957
Printed in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics Progress Publishers Moscow
OCR: http://home.freeuk.net/russica2/
--------------------------------------------------------------PART
ONE
Now the telling of the tale begins
Past the woods and mountains steep,
Past the rolling waters deep,
You will find a hamlet pleasant
Where once dwelt an aged peasant.
Of his sons-and he had three,
Th'eldest sharp was as could be;
Second was nor dull nor bright,
But the third-a fool all right.
Now, these brothers planted wheat,
Brought it to the royal seat,
By which token you may know
That they hadn't far to go.
There they sold their golden grain
Counted carefully their gain
And, with well-filled money bags,
Home again would turn their nags.
But, upon an evil day,
Dire misfortune came their waySomeone,
'twixt the dark and dawn,
Took to trampling down their corn;
Never had such grief before
Come to visit at their door;
Day and night they sat and thought
How the villain could be caught,
Till at last it dawned upon them
That the way to solve the problem
And to save their crops from harm
Was, each night to guard their farm.
As the day drew near its close,
Up the eldest brother rose
And, with pitchfork, axe in hand,
Started out his watch to stand
Dark and stormy was the night,
He was overcome with fright
And, of all his wits deprived,
In the nearest haystack dived.
Slowly night gave way to day;
Our brave watchman left his hay,
And, with water from the well,
Soused himself-then, with a yell,
Pounded on the cottage door;
And you should have heard him roar!
"Hey, you sleepy owls," cried he
Стр.1