Pače i tetka Guska/The Duckling and Aunt Goose#autor: Nelly Poerich
Zapita se guska gladna:
The Duckling and Aunt Goose
A little duckling, full of cheer,
stepped on Auntie Goose’s rear.
It wandered all day all around,
near her tiny home it was found.
Her food bowl empty, not a grain,
three whole meals had been in vain.
All day long she hadn’t fed,
so her goslings got yelled at instead.
She never thought to check next door,
her waist was thinner more and more.
She wondered where she ought to go,
how to survive the night of woe.
Longing for the morning light,
and for her master’s food delight.
At dawn she hid away in fear,
folded close her wings so near.
What strange force could this be now?
She saw that duckling, oh and how—
straight into her bowl it strode,
slurping, gulping, crumbs it mowed.
The hungry goose then asked in dread:
“What will I eat? I’ll starve instead!”
She spread her wings without delay,
and pecked the duckling right away.
The neighborhood was quickly stirred,
Mother Duck had soon been heard.
Shocked to see her child in fright,
his little bill bruised from the fight.
She found her strength and quacked aloud,
her duckling sobbed, the noise was proud.
She scolded Goose with sharp reproach—
it all could’ve been solved by approach.
“You could have spoken, calm and fair,
instead of pecking everywhere!”
She raised her beak and cried anew:
“That’s not the way, dear Goose, for you!”
She grabbed her duckling from the bowl,
a lesson learned, that was the goal.
“Who covets food that isn’t his,
a model child will never be!” — it is.
The duckling bowed, so small, so meek,
from all that pecking, feeling weak:
“Please forgive me, Auntie Goose,
for tasting what belonged to you.
That sweet pastry lured me near,
we seldom have such treats, I fear.”
But the angry Goose replied,
still with haughty, heavy pride:
“By all my goosey honor’s name,
you won’t touch my plate again the same!”
The Mother Duck laughed loud and clear,
“Not a single bite you’d spare, I hear!
So much for your goosey pride,
when begging scraps from all outside.
Just look at my duckling here—
he’ll grow up strong, have no fear!
Yes, yes, Auntie Goose, you see,
my clothes are tight as they can be.
Each new day I grow and grow,
to the sky one day I’ll go!”
“Hear this cheeky little chap—
he’ll grow to be a grand old drake!”
Mother Duck cut in with haste,
gave a peck and made her case:
“Don’t scowl and don’t deride,
be a better guide with pride.
Your goslings tear the yard apart,
my house is a broken heart!”
She grabbed her duckling, plump and round,
before a bigger fight was found.
The little one just followed home,
knowing trouble soon would come.
With scolding words he’d go to bed,
on straw that poked his little head.
Over his bill her voice would glide,
even in dreams it would reside:
“Joking here is not the way,
at home you’ll have your treat one day.
So long as you roam and stray about,
that’s my ducky verdict—out!”
.png)
