Folk Tales of the Russian Empire. Коллектив авторов
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what happened?”
“Then your farm agent made him carry water.”
“But why was water needed?”
“Well, when your pigsty caught fire, the farm agent made him carry water to put out the fire.”
“What on earth do you mean, my pigsty has burnt down?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Why has it burnt down?”
“You see, sir, it was standing near your cowshed, and likely it caught a fire from the cowshed.”
“That is my cowshed has also burnt down?”
“It burned down like a candle, sir!”
“But why did it catch fire?”
“I don’t know that for sure, sir, whether it caught fire on its own or the fire spread from your house.”
“Do you mean that my house has also burned down?”
“Your house burned out completely, sir, disappeared without a trace!”
“Has my homestead burned out too?”
“Everything has gone to blazes. All the cattle have died off. There is an open field there, – it’s nice to sow grain!”
The host squeezed his head with his hands and began to wail…
“But why did the house catch fire?” asked then the landlord.
“It took fire from a candle, sir.”
“And what did they light the candle for?”
“What for, sir? As always, sir, candles should be lit if someone died!”
“But who died there, bloody hell?”
“Holy God, let her easily live in the other world! Your wife has passed away.”
“What… Come again? My wife has died, but why?”
“She had got some disease and then passed away.”
“Oh, my God… What kind of disease?” asked the angry landlord.
“I don’t know, sir, I’m not a doctor!” replied Stepan…
The Cock-And-Bull Story
An Abkhazian folk tale
Abkhazians call themselves Apswa (plural Apswaa) … Christianity arrived two centuries before its official introduction under Justinian sixth century. Sunni Islam spread with Ottoman Turkish influence from around 1500. Traditional paganism has never entirely disappeared, making adherence to either major religion relatively superficial, although within Abkhazia most Abkhazians are nominally Christian.
Encyclopedia of Russian History, editor in chief James Millar
When I was a young man, I had many herds of horses. They grazed freely on the seashore. One day I walked along the beach to drive my herds home. Having come to the place, I looked about, searching for the horses, but did not find them. Then I stuck a staff into the ground, stood up on the staff, looked around again and saw my horses over the hills and far away. I rushed there like a bird on the wing, put them together and drove them home.
On the way home, a grey mare relaxed her course, stopped running and foaled. A newborn foal could not follow my herds, and I could not leave the kid to its fate. I mounted the mare, placed the foal over her neck, but she was not able to get up and carry us. Then I took off the foal, saddled it up, put the mare on its neck and hit the road on the foal’s back. We raced like the wind!
By the end of the day, my horses got tired and thirsty. I drove them down to the sea and was about to water my herds, but what in hell was that? The sea was covered with ice! I threw a large stone down, trying to break the ice, but it did not help. I pushed a heavy rock to the ice, but it did not work. I left no stone unturned but could do nothing! Then I got angry, took a run and bashed my head against the ice – and it flew into pieces like glass!
I watered my horses, sat astride the foal, took the mare upon him and rode away. I was riding for a while but suddenly saw a beautiful girl, sitting on a balcony of a magnificent tower, playing an achamgure (a three-stringed instrument similar to a lute) and singing for me:
“How handsome
is this stranger!
I fell in love with him
at the first glance.
I would marry him,
if he had a head!”
I was very happy, although did not realize her allegory. However, when I passed my hand over the head, I noticed then that I had no head! Oh my God, it looked like I had left my head on the beach! I bowed the girl, turned back, rode to the sea, then I cast a glance at the seashore – my head was lying there.
But what the hell had happened to it? It was frozen into ice! I began to pull my head, but I could not drag it out of the ice. There was a herd of livestock grazing nearby. I hitched my head to a couple of buffalo and a couple of horses, but they were not able to pull my head off.
Thus, there I was standing not knowing what to do… But suddenly I saw two wasps. I caught them, yoked them and forced to pull my head. They pulled the traces, the ice cracked, and the wasps dragged out my head to the beach. I put the head on my shoulders, mounted the foal, placed the mare on its neck and rode away.
On the way home, I saw a rabbit that had never been born, sitting at a nut bush that had never been growing. I pulled out a gun without a trigger. I fired without aiming. I killed a rabbit without a shot. I picked up the rabbit, strapped it to the saddle and went on.
In my path, I met a man. He bowed his head, welcoming me, and said:
“Hey, old chap, let your mother feel happy! What can you gave me, if I tell you something joyful?”
“If you tell me something joyful, I’ll give you a rabbit.”
“Very well, your father was born today!” he said.
I was so delighted that gave him my rabbit.
I came home, entered the room and saw – there was my father, lying in a cradle and screaming. I took him in my arms. What a good baby boy! Of great joy, I presented my father that mare, which I had brought riding on the foal.
Since then we lived happily ever after.
The Gift of the Black Demon
A Polish folk tale
Relations between Poles and Russians have never been easy. Despite their close linguistic and ethnic ties, differences rather than similarities characterize the relationship between them. In religious denomination, political tradition, worldview, even the alphabets in which they write their related languages, Poles and Russians are clearly distinct.
Encyclopedia of Russian History, editor in chief James Millar
Once upon a time there was a poor farmer in a village. He had a wife and many children. He tried to do everything to the best of his ability, but could not keep his family. That is why his neighbours used to call him Jonah the Needy. The man inherited a piece of land from his father but it was useless. There was swamp on the left, sand on the right, and only a narrow strip of proper land in the middle, all covered with pits and stones. He had to be patient and to give up hope for the better.
One day Jonah the Needy went to plough his field and took the last loaf of bread with him. The day had already half gone but the man was ploughing and ploughing. He was so tired that his stomach cramped from hunger. He had