BAKA RANKA KRIJE PARE
(Autorka: Nelly Poerich)
Baka Ranka krije pare
za nejake dane stare.
Tražila ih ovog puta,
na sebe je — k’o ris — ljuta:
„Gde li sam ih ostavila?
U maramče sam ih svila…
Ah, kakva sam ja guska!“
psuje baka, samo prska.
Tražila ih dva-tri sata,
a kuća joj na dva sprata.
Išla gore, išla dole,
noge stare baš je bole.
Razmišlja se baka Ranka,
da l’ je možda neko sanka?
„Koji vrag se ovde moto,
pa mi ovo bede smoto?“
Filmova mi sto u glavi,
ali ko je akter pravi?
Sa suzom joj sumnja pade
da l’ je možda deca rade.
Još od džema baka slatka,
dogega se kao patka,
na poljanče iza kuće,
gde za zimu skuplja pruće.
Igrala se deca žmurke,
jure deca, lete ćurke.
Viče baka da zastanu,
navija na svoju stranu:
„Ne zujite tu k’o ose
oko panja, oko kose!
Te su grane k’o jež ljuti,
na nevolju nos mi sluti.
Trk u kuću, palo veče,
palačinke baka peče.“
Ushićeno kliču deca,
a baka ih slašću peca.
Palačinkom sve ih mami,
dok ih služi, plače, drami,
pa ih merka ispod oka,
k’o prasiće gazda Proka.
Deca čuju i ne čuju,
dok prstiće oblizuju…
Samo Veka menja boje,
vrti glavom — ne zna ko je.
Baka Ranka, mudra lija,
lukavo ih pričom svija:
„Al’ me pusta noga štreca,
treba stići do kredenca.
Deca odmah pritrčaše,
ispod ruke povedoše.
Na stolicu baka sede,
ulovi im sve poglede.
Fioka ih škripom trže,
a baka će: „Bolje, brže!
Eto, to je tajno mesto
gde sakrivam pare često.
Starost teška, deco draga,
imah pare — sad do vraga!
Sumnjam da ih uzeo neko,
da ti nisi, možda, Veko?
Priznaj baki, moja mila,
dođi baki ti u krila.
Kao lula obućara,
žalila se lutka stara:
‘Kaže, za nju više ne haješ,
paučinu sa njom pajaš.
Barbiku si prigrlila —
od kog si je ti dobila?’
Veku obli stid po licu,
izu svoju patikicu,
pruži baki par dinara,
da ne plače, jer je stara.
Zagrli je tako tužnu,
učinila stvar je ružnu…
„Oprosti mi, bako mila,
detinje sam postupila.“
A baka se ka njoj naže,
pa joj glasom toplim kaže:
„Nemoj, Veko, više tako —
lopov može biti svako,
al’ mu nije slavno ime,
ne hvali se niko njime.“
GRANDMA RANKA HIDES THE MONEY
(Author: Nelly Poerich)
Grandma Ranka hides her pay,
for her hard and lonely day.
This time she searched, all upset,
like a lynx in a net:
“Where on earth did I put it away?
In my handkerchief? I thought — that day.
Ah, what a silly goose I’ve been!”
Grandma mutters, face turned mean.
For hours she searched, up and down,
through the two floors, round and round.
Up the stairs and down the hall,
her tired legs near to fall.
Grandma Ranka starts to wonder,
“Has someone played me, pulled me under?
What devil roamed around in here,
and took my poor coins — I fear?”
A hundred scenes run through her head,
but who’s the thief? Who misled?
With a tear, suspicion starts to grow —
“Could it be the kids? I just don’t know…”
Since the jam, sweet Grandma dear,
waddled out without any fear,
to the meadow just behind the shack,
where she gathered winter sticks to stack.
The children played a game of hide-and-seek,
turkeys flapping, children shriek.
Grandma shouts for them to freeze,
and calls them over with practiced ease:
“Don’t buzz around like wasps, my dears,
’round the stump and round my ears!
Those twigs are prickly, like a hedgehog’s pride,
my nose foresees some trouble inside.”
“Run to the house, it’s getting late,
Grandma’s pancakes — don’t be late!”
The children cheer, their joy unbound,
while Grandma’s sweets come passing ’round.
With pancakes she tempts them all,
serving treats in the cozy hall.
She peers at them with a knowing eye,
like Farmer Proka at piglets nearby.
The children hear her, yet pretend not to,
licking their fingers, as children do…
Only Veka’s face turns red,
shaking her head at what was said.
Grandma Ranka, sly as a fox,
weaves her words like secret locks:
“My silly leg gives me a twinge,
but I must reach the cupboard’s hinge.
The children hurry, grab my hand,
and lead her where the cupboard stands.
Grandma sits and holds their gaze,
as the drawer creaks in a sideways sway.
‘Here it is, the secret place,
where I hide my money case.
Old age, my dears, is not so kind,
I had the cash — now who’s in my mind?
Could it be you, Veka dear?
Come, sit with Grandma here…’
Like the cobbler’s pipe, old and worn,
she sighed: ‘Your doll feels forlorn,
you’ve left her in the cobweb’s care,
and hugged your Barbie everywhere.’
Veka blushed from ear to ear,
pulled off her shoe without fear.
She gave Grandma coins so small,
to stop her tears once and for all.
She hugged her tight, eyes full of sorrow,
‘I was childish — I’ll be better tomorrow.’
Grandma bent down, with a loving tone:
“Don’t do that again, my own.
A thief could be anyone, it’s true —
but it’s not a name for you.”
Recenzija slikovnice „Baka Ranka krije pare“
Autorka: Nelly Poerich
Slikovnica „Baka Ranka krije pare“ duhovita je i topla priča koja, kroz stih i nežnu ilustraciju, uvodi čitaoca u svet jedne snalažljive bake i nestašne dečurlije.
Tekst u rimi, pisan laganim i pitkim tonom, uspešno spaja humor i pouku — čitalac se smeje bakinom „detektivskom“ traganju za parama, a na kraju ostaje poruka o iskrenosti i poverenju.
Ilustracije, izvedene u akvarel-tehnici sa pastelnim bojama, donose vedar, pomalo nostalgičan ugođaj, a lik bake Rankе osmišljen je kao vižljasta, živahna starica sa iskrama lukavstva u očima. Poseban šarm daju prikazi domaće atmosfere — od kredenca sa teglama džema, do stola punog palačinki, gde deca oblizuju prstiće.
Priča i slike zajedno čine skladnu celinu koja je jednako zanimljiva deci i odraslima. Za decu, to je smešna i zabavna pustolovina; za odrasle, to je blagi podsetnik na to da mudrost često ide ruku pod ruku s nežnošću.
Review of the Picture Book “Grandma Ranka Hides the Money”
Author: Nelly Poerich
The picture book “Grandma Ranka Hides the Money” is a humorous and heartwarming tale that, through rhyme and gentle illustration, takes the reader into the world of a resourceful grandmother and a group of mischievous children.
Written in a light, flowing rhythm, the rhymed verses successfully blend humor with a moral lesson — readers laugh at Grandma’s “detective” search for her money, yet are left with a meaningful message about honesty and trust.
The watercolor-style illustrations, in soft pastel tones, bring a cheerful and slightly nostalgic feel, with Grandma Ranka depicted as a sprightly, witty old lady with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. The domestic settings — from the cupboard filled with jars of jam to the table piled high with pancakes while children lick their fingers — add a special charm.
Together, the story and illustrations form a harmonious whole that will delight both children and adults. For children, it’s a funny and engaging adventure; for adults, it’s a gentle reminder that wisdom often goes hand in hand with tenderness.
