🦋 LEPTIR I JEŽ
Autor: Nelly Poerich
🇷🇸 Srpski (lektorisana verzija)
Zateko se leptir
na ježevoj njušci,
od zore se vrzmao
na cvetnoj krušci.
Prestrašen od bodlji,
ni leptić da makne,
umro bi u trenu
krilce da mu takne.
A jež, mrgud stari,
očima ga strelja,
da mu život uzme –
a nije mu želja.
Ježu igra fali,
usamljen je pravo,
kad bi mogao, jadnik,
život bi prespavo.
I kad se sklupča,
svoje bodlje skriva,
a opet se ljudi
plaše – bol ga živa.
Zabavan je leptir,
raznobojnih šara,
puklo bi mu srce
bodljom da ga para.
Ukipi se leptir,
smišlja begstvo svoje,
ističe mu život –
minuti mu broje.
Kad tačno u sumrak
s njuške leptir pade,
jež se opet sklupča,
u očaj ga stade.
🇬🇧 English
THE BUTTERFLY AND THE HEDGEHOG
By Nelly Poerich
A butterfly landed
on the hedgehog’s nose,
since dawn it had wandered
where the pear tree rose.
Afraid of the prickles,
not daring to sway,
it could die in a heartbeat
if wings brushed his way.
The hedgehog, a grumbler,
pierced him with his eyes,
to take the life from him –
yet no wish belies.
The hedgehog felt lonely,
no play filled his day,
poor soul, if he were able,
he’d sleep life away.
And when he curled tightly,
hiding spines in gloom,
still people all feared him –
his heart filled with doom.
The butterfly sparkled,
with colors so rare,
his tender wings would shatter
if pierced by a hair.
The butterfly stiffened,
thinking how to flee,
its moments were slipping,
counting – one, two, three.
Then just at the twilight,
from his nose it fell,
the hedgehog curled tightly,
in sorrow did dwell.
🇸🇪 Svenska
FJÄRILEN OCH IGRISSET
Av Nelly Poerich
En fjäril slog sig ned
på igelkottens nos,
från gryningen fladdrade
kring päronbloms ros.
Rädd för alla taggar,
vågade knappt stå,
kunde dö på stunden
om vingarna rör så.
Igelkotten butter,
stirrade så strängt,
ville ta hans liv –
men önskan var stängt.
Igeln saknar lekar,
ensam går han kring,
om han bara kunde,
sov han allting.
Och när han sig rullar,
gömmer taggar små,
ändå fruktar människor –
smärtan gör honom grå.
Fjärilen var lustig,
i färger som spel,
hjärtat skulle brista
av taggens hård stålspel.
Fjärilen stod stilla,
planerade flykt,
hans minuter rann bort –
tiden blev så tryggt.
Men just vid skymning
föll han från hans nos,
igelkotten rullad,
i sorgen var så tös.
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