Viktor Gitin

River of fairy tales. Unprofessional translation from Russian


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      The old man sneered. He knew quite enough to learn to doubt his infallibility, so he said evasively:

      «Try to ask the bride’s opinion. Tell her everything you heard from the three fiancés when you talked in the garden. But don’t call their names. And let her appreciate their answers.»

      The sultan called the daughter and told her about his conversations with fiancés in the garden. The princess thought just a little bit; she looked into her father’s eyes honestly and confessed:

      «If the decision depended on me, I would choose the third one. The most worthless one, in your opinion. The one who does not believe that I will be his wife but continues to work and restore the garden. Because he did not seek joy in sciences or war, but in creation. Because he did not feel happy with discoveries and winning battles, but with his ability to give his work and love to other people. Because when he is working, he is not thinking about himself or his glory, but about his love, his bride, her future, and the future of her children! You can rely on such a person in family life. And it means that you can also rely on him in ruling the country.»

      The wise man smiled and said to the sultan:

      «I think you don’t need my advice anymore. I could not have said better.»

      GreediBerry

      Once there lived a man in a village. His name was Frol. Everything was fine with him: he had a nice house, a milk-cow, laying hens, a fertile field. But once he decided to go to the forest and pick sweet berries. He was about to leave when his neighbor, an old woman, told him:

      «Frolushka, pick some berries in the forest and bring a handful to me. I am too old to go to the forest alone.»

      «All right,» the kind Frol agreed. «Don’t worry, I’ll bring a whole basket of berries for you, so that you could eat as much as you like.»

      «Thank you, dear! But I’ll give you one important piece of advice. Don’t go to the huge cliff above the river,» the old woman warned.

      «Why not?» the curious man asked.

      «There is a bad berry there. GreediBerry! If you eat it, you will become greedy. And great trouble may happen to you then.»

      Frol laughed at the old woman’s words and went to the forest. He was walking along the road and thinking: «That’s stupid. There is no GreediBerry. And even if it existed, what is the trouble with greediness? Nobody has ever died of it. Greedy people just become richer than others.» thought Frol and headed for the huge cliff.

      Near the edge of the cliff there was a wonderful meadow. He saw a marvelous bush there with unusual red berries that grew in clusters. Frol could not help picking one berry and trying it. He liked it very much! The berry tasted so delicious that the man threw at it and ate almost everything at once.

      He was picking it and putting handfuls into his mouth so violently that he was covered in berries all over. He ate his full of juicy berries, felt heavy and flopped to the ground. He sat down and felt that he was too weak to go home.

      Frol had a little rest and thought: «The nasty old woman! She knew that the berry here was very tasty. That’s why she forbade going here. It’s good that I disobeyed. I have never tried such juicy berries in my life! And I won’t bring this disgusting old woman anything, I won’t appease her. I will keep for myself everything I will pick in the forest. I don’t have enough for myself!»

      The man picked the rest of berries from this wonderful bush and went home. But he did not notice and did not understand that he had become greedy. And now he was not his own master but gain and greediness were his masters.

      The man came to the village, and the neighbor was waiting for him:

      «So, Frolushka? Have you brought me some berries as you promised?»

      «I have not, and I will not bring anything to you!» the man answered angrily. «The berries I have picked are not enough for me. If you need berries, go to the forest and look for them yourself.»

      The old woman got angry with his rudeness, but decided to ask:

      «Tell me the truth, my dear neighbor: have you been to the huge cliff? Have you tasted the GreediBerry?»

      «Yes, I have!» Frol laughed. «And I understood why you forbade me to pick the berries there. I have never seen or tasted anything better than those berries. If I had obeyed you, I would have never known their wonderful taste. That’s why I am offended, and I don’t want to see you anymore! Off you go from my yard!»

      Frol drove the kind old woman away. She shook her head with regret, sighed heavily, turned around and went to her hut. And the man’s life was going its way, he did his usual duties. But his life started to change from day to day somehow. His interest in other people’s wealth was greater than the interest in his own fortune.

      It happened so that Frol’s cow ate several Greediberries. In some time, it stopped giving milk. The cow became too greedy to give its milk to the owner. Like Frol, it became greedy.

      The man spilt several berries in the yard by chance. The hens picked them and stopped laying eggs. They did not want to give Frol their eggs. They became greedy, too.

      Time came to gather harvest. Frol came to his field, looked at it and felt glad. The wheat was very good: ripe and magnificent heads with large grains. At this moment he had a worrying thought:

      «I have a good harvest, but if I reap it now, my neighbors will see it and come to borrow some. And if I refuse, they will be angry with me and complain to tax collectors about me. They will come, see my good harvest and ask to pay bigger toll than last year.»

      Frol felt greedy. He did not want to share his harvest with anybody and decided not to reap it at all. He did not want anybody to get anything. So, his wheat rotted on the field.

      Winter was approaching. He needed to chop some wood to heat the house when frost comes. Frol was about to go to the forest, but then he stopped and thought: «Now I will chop some wood for myself, and what if somebody comes at night and steals it?! I may die of offence then. I can’t share my wood with anybody.»

      He threw his axe to the fence and decided not to go to the forest.

      Frol’s house was old – he got it from his parents. It required a lot of repairs. He wanted to set about repairing his house a long time ago. One of the walls nodded and was about to fall and crumble. But now the owner looked at it with different eyes. He gave it a little thinking and got scared: «If I renovate the house and rebuild it, somebody may want to visit me. Or relatives will come to see me. I will have to give them something to eat and drink. No, I don’t need it. I don’t want to waste my food on guests. I’d better leave the house in ruins. Then nobody will visit me or stay in it.»

      That’s the way Frol was living. With one thought in his head – he did not want to do anything that might be good or beneficial for other people. And when it came to sharing anything with anybody, it was death-like for Frol.

      Winter came, it became frosty. The cow gave no milk. And the man did not feed it – he grudged hay for the cow. It was hungry, became weaker and weaker and then died. The hens did not lay eggs. Frol was starving them as well. He was too greedy to give any millet to his hens. They died, too.

      Frol was cold as he had no wood. He had nothing to eat, his harvest rotted in the field. The man had a quarrel with his neighbors, he became wicked and unsociable. He did not believe anybody and suspected everybody of stealing. And he was so