Виктор Мазанов – Tales of Wisdom. Insights from Russian Folklore (страница 5)
What lesson from this tale can you apply in your own life with friends and family?
Kolobok
In a small village lived a grandfather and a grandmother. They were not wealthy, but they lived together peacefully. The grandfather worked in the garden all day, while the grandmother kept the household and cooked meals.
One day the grandfather came home especially hungry and said:
– Wife, please bake me a kolobok. I’m dying for a bite!
The grandmother raised her hands:
– Darling, what am I supposed to bake? There’s no flour left in the house.
– Don’t worry, – the grandfather smiled. – Scrape the box, sweep the threshing floor – maybe we’ll gather enough!
The grandmother took a small scoop and a broom, swept the threshing floor, scraped the box – and indeed collected about two handfuls of flour. She mixed the dough with sour cream and baked a kolobok in the oven. The kolobok turned out golden‑brown and fragrant. She placed it on the windowsill to cool.
The kolobok lay there, soaking up the warm sunshine. Suddenly it jumped from the windowsill into the yard – the window was open – and rolled away: from the yard onto the street, from the street into the forest.
“What a beautiful world!” the kolobok thought as it rolled along the forest path and began to sing:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok,
Swept from the threshing floor,
Scraped from the box,
Mixed with sour cream,
Baked in the oven,
Chilled on the window!
I’ve fled from Grandfather,
I’ve fled from Grandmother!
Rolling and humming a cheerful tune, the kolobok suddenly met a hare:
– Stop, Kolobok! I’ll eat you!
– Don’t eat me, little hare, – pleaded the kolobok. – Better listen to my song!
And he sang:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok,
Swept from the threshing floor,
Scraped from the box,
Mixed with sour cream,
Baked in the oven,
Chilled on the window!
I’ve fled from Grandfather,
I’ve fled from Grandmother,
And from you, little hare – I’ll slip away even faster!
Then he rolled on.
Further along he encountered a grey wolf:
– Kolobok, Kolobok! Stop! I’ll eat you!
– Take your time, wolf, – said the kolobok. – First hear my song:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok,
Swept from the threshing floor,
Scraped from the box,
Mixed with sour cream,
Baked in the oven,
Chilled on the window!
I’ve fled from Grandfather,
I’ve fled from Grandmother,
I’ve fled from the hare,
And from you, wolf – I’ll slip away even faster!
While the wolf listened, enchanted, the kolobok rolled away again.
Soon a big brown bear appeared:
– Kolobok, Kolobok! I’ll eat you!
– Where are you going, clumsy one? Listen to my song! – laughed the kolobok, feeling clever and swift.
I am Kolobok, Kolobok,
Swept from the threshing floor,
Scraped from the box,
Mixed with sour cream,
Baked in the oven,
Chilled on the window!
I’ve fled from Grandfather,
I’ve fled from Grandmother,
I’ve fled from the hare,
I’ve fled from the wolf,
And from you, bear – I’ll slip away even faster!
The bear was left empty‑handed, and the kolobok kept rolling, feeling the smartest of all.
At last a red fox met him. She smiled warmly:
– Hello, Kolobok! How rosy and handsome you are! I’ll eat you!