Kolobok

Once there lived an old man and an old woman. One day the old man said: — Bake me a kolobok, old woman. — What can I bake it from? There is no flour.

Once there lived an old man and an old woman. One day the old man said:

— Bake me a kolobok, old woman.

— What can I bake it from? There is no flour.

— Oh, old woman! Scrape out the flour box and sweep out the grain bin; perhaps you will gather enough flour.

The old woman took a little wing, scraped out the flour box, swept out the grain bin, and gathered about two handfuls of flour. She kneaded the dough with sour cream, fried it in butter, and set it on the windowsill to cool.

The Kolobok lay there for a while, then suddenly began to roll—from the window to the bench, from the bench to the floor, across the floor to the door. It leaped over the threshold into the entryway, rolled from the entryway to the porch, from the porch into the yard, from the yard out through the gate, and on and on.

The Kolobok was rolling along the road when a hare came toward it.

— Kolobok, Kolobok! I am going to eat you!

— Do not eat me, Hare-with-the-crooked-legs! I will sing you a little song,—said the Kolobok, and began to sing:

From the flour box I was scraped, From the grain bin I was swept, With sour cream was I kneaded, And in butter was I fried, On the windowsill was I cooled. I got away from Grandfather, I got away from Grandmother, And from you, Hare, I’ll easily get away!

And it rolled on; the hare saw it no more!

The Kolobok was rolling along when a wolf came toward it.

— Kolobok, Kolobok! I am going to eat you!

— Do not eat me, Gray Wolf! I will sing you a little song!

From the flour box I was scraped, From the grain bin I was swept, With sour cream was I kneaded, And in butter was I fried, On the windowsill was I cooled. I got away from Grandfather, I got away from Grandmother, I got away from the hare, And from you, Wolf, I’ll easily get away!

And it rolled on; the wolf saw it no more!

The Kolobok was rolling along when a bear came toward it.

— Kolobok, Kolobok! I am going to eat you.

— You, clumsy Bear, eat me? You never could!

From the flour box I was scraped, From the grain bin I was swept, With sour cream was I kneaded, And in butter was I fried, On the windowsill was I cooled. I got away from Grandfather, I got away from Grandmother, I got away from the hare, I got away from the wolf, And from you, Bear, I’ll easily get away!

And away it rolled again; the bear saw it no more!

The Kolobok rolled on and on, and a fox came toward it.

— Good day, Kolobok! How handsome you are!

And the Kolobok began to sing:

From the flour box I was scraped, From the grain bin I was swept, With sour cream was I kneaded, And in butter was I fried, On the windowsill was I cooled. I got away from Grandfather, I got away from Grandmother, I got away from the hare, I got away from the wolf, I got away from the bear, And from you, Fox, I’ll get away all the more easily!

— What a lovely song!—said the fox.—But I have grown old, Kolobok, and my hearing is poor. Sit on my muzzle and sing it once more, a little louder.

The Kolobok hopped onto the fox’s muzzle and sang the same song.

— Thank you, Kolobok! What a lovely song; I would like to hear it again. Sit on my tongue and sing it one last time,—said the fox, and she stuck out her tongue.

The foolish Kolobok jumped onto her tongue, and the fox—snap!—gobbled it up.