Now let's see what story I'm going to tell you...
- Now that it's hot (please) I want a story of boats and the sea.
- Not this one! If the problem is the weather, go to the beach. We wait a moment. Get out, my friend, get out.
- It rhymes with papaya.
- Well, it's just not serves to make a story ...
- Who said then that it doesn't work? I know one all by heart, from memory... if you want to write, write...
- You are foolish!
- Oh how good! Rhymes with cake.
- Right after the papaya, to then kill the hungry, I ate (it ate) a cake, a huge cake.
- How silly!
- Bolo-parvo I don't know and I don't forget the name of the sweets...
- It's not the cake that's silly - it's you.
- That's right! You call me a fool, anyway, but if there was a cake here, would you eat it or not?
- Now here we go: what a story do you want me to start counting?
- I already said the sea.
- I prefer the papaya one.
- You don't count anything here. I want a story told of a tiny boat that goes around the world...
- Well well! A boat that small, only if it's a canoe.
- This is good! And a canoe is not a boat?
- So it is. But it cannot go far.
- If I put them an engine...
- Just one engine is not enough. It needs to be a big boat to withstand the waves of the high sea in which it sails.
- So I put some wings on it and go on in that canoe (look at how it flies! How good it is to see it fly)! ...
- But listen there! Just say: what stories do you want me to start telling?
- I already told you: the papaya one.
- You can make a sweet with papaya, or eat it for dessert... some people even make juice, but stories (I don't know how) nobody makes them for sure.
- Who told you?
- I tell you. the papaya that I ate (it's been a long, long time)
- Don't say anything, it's better... You ate, you didn't even invite (big bullshit)! ...
- So let's find out: what is the story they want me to start writing?
- I've said it before and I won't go back - that of the sea.
- It must be and papaya. If she is so died.
- Died how?
- Here in my belly. So sweet! And I, if you want me to tell you... that good, to eat, it has to be better even to tell...
- I'll tell you: "Once upon a time, on top of the papaya tree, a papaya fell into the sea"...
- Fell how? Never goes ! Papaya in backyard is far from the sea. How can a papaya fall in the sand on the beach? In the end !!!
- Let hear. The story is that she fell into the water.
- Nothing fell. Who saw the papaya (which is sweet) get salty?
- Who knows if she wasn't a different papaya: very ripe, yellow...
- Lie, comrade! If it was like that yellow, it's because it was a papaya that the papaya is red.
- Do you want to hear it, or don't you? Either they just finished arguing, or I don't say anything else.
- See? This man says every one! ... He says he doesn't say anything else and until now (as far as I know) he hasn't written, nor told, for people no story.
- He didn't count, he was counting the one about the yellow papaya.
- incarnate. EN-CAR-NA-DA.
- But after all - is it you who count, or am I the one who counts?
- Ready! Ready! It's not worth getting angry.
- Yes it does. It was to hear tell that I came.
- Wait a minute, but I said...
- What a bummer! Don't interrupt again.
- What was it you said? BORROW? But that's a bad word that shouldn't be said.
- sorry that it was an accident.
- Well, yes, you are excused. Now be quiet, carefully, very quiet... let's hear the story, or if you want to discuss, will speak to the other side.
- Tell me then, that I'm already ready.
- Tell this story, this tale, of the papaya that there would be...
- would count. I would, if I still had time... But you talked so much, so much and discussed so much that time went and passed. Ended! It's our time and now I can't write anything else. Unless....a block.
A SAGE MAKES HIMSELF HEAR
A MAN AT WORK
A FOOL TO SEND COME
TO DISCUSS AND TRY.
(KOTA KURIKA)
JOURNAL DE ANGOLA / 272/17.10.83
HOW TO MAKE A FOOL
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
THE HUNTER AND THE DEER
It's been a long time now - long time - that the hunter would go out and not hunted. It's been a long time now - long time - that he was and he walked and did not see a mouse that he could hunt.
But animals, of course there were. I was sure -footprints, pasture grass, poops still fresh, but seeing a single animal, that's not it. It's been a long time now - saw nothing.
One day - a long time too - DINIANGA DIA NGOMBE was lurking in the woods when he saw a deer coming. just like that - eat what you eat, no more, no more caution.
"Do you see?! Tomorrow I'll hunt you - he thought, the hunter. Tomorrow, even tomorrow, you won't be able to escape. One shot (well centered) you're there tomorrow. Lucky for my pot, it will really be your bad luck"...
And early the next day, he prepared his shotgun. He took the knife that he always carried with him. He closed the dogs in a pen for don't scare the beast. He kept walking very early (as I said before) and arrived.
"Where am I going to hide? - thought the man again. I can't here (soon the deer takes care of it). I can't do it there (with the wind rushing like this, he sniffs right away, and he knows I'm here). Better to climb the tree. When this animal eats, it keeps its head down: it doesn't see anything. And the wind (if there is a wind) takes away my scent and, in this way, the deer escapes from feeling me".
And so thinking, he went up. And so climbed, waited.
The day comes. Dawn. And the deer, no shadows.
Come in the afternoon. The sun burned. And the deer, there's no smell.
Night came, almost night, and the deer...or nothing.
It was there all the time, and the deer... who saw it?
The other day he returned.
One more once up there, once more he waited. The day comes. Come in the afternoon. Night came, almost night. First it was dawn. Then the sun was burning. And when, already in the afternoon, the man despaired, the deer came... softly, grazing in its rest, so careless and happy that the hunter...
...had time to aim, to aim well (right in the center) to compose himself up there and think: "I'm shooting now, or I'm not shooting yet"? And without delay he fired.
The deer fell.
And the sun (almost at the end of the day) also started far away, wanting to go down to sleep.
"I have to skin the animal" - said the man to himself, pulling out his knife. "Before night comes, I must have it fixed."
And he began cautiously (a way not to spoil the valuable skin) to skin the deer.
And when he had everything ready (with his skin well groomed) he looked and saw: the deer, FUIM !!! escaped. Full of cold, poor thing, without the fur coat...
- Give me my skin, sir. I'm cold here.
The hunter didn't even hear. In a rage.
- This one then! How did you run away? Is there right? So much work that I had to wait, to kill, to flay, and you run away from me like that? Without saying anything? What kind of education did your people give you? Come here, Mr. Deer.
- Sir, no. I'm still a boy.
- Oh yeah?! Well then much worse. What is a boy doing. Inside from the woods alone and at a time like this?
- I was hungry and came to eat.
- Oh yeah?! You were hungry and you already ate - I'm hungry, and I need to eat.
- Eat then. Feel free. Just give me my skin so I can leave.
- Who said you're leaving if you're my food? Who said you're leaving, if I've already shot you?
- Leave the conversation for now: throw me the skin.
Stubborn, the man insisted:
- Oh, I don't shoot, no. If I threw it, it got dirty. Come get it.
- I've been a fool and I've learned: once is carelessness, twice is stupidity... Shoot, don't be afraid. If dirty, I can wash - water is something that is not lacking.
And the very smart hunter:
- No sir: "Whoever borrows clean, cannot deliver dirty".
- Borrowed?! Stop having ceremonies. Bloodstained already, with the shot that hit me. Either you give me the skin, or I'm leaving without it.
- Aren't you ashamed?! Show up naked at home? Your mother, your father, what are they going to say?
- They say nothing. Because shame, shame, it's really to have you. He comes home and tells him... “I shot, killed and skinned a deer. I'm going to prepare the pot, your wife will say. Do not. Deer skin is not cooked in the pan, it dries out in the sun. But what did you kill? Did you kill the skin, or did you kill the animal?"
- I killed the beast. Did I kill you or didn't I kill you?
- "Better than saying I killed, it's throwing the bone away and being able to say: I ate!".
And in one leap, the deer was lost in the darkness.
The hunter? I won't even tell you... mouth open and hands in the air, he stood in the woods, watching the bazaar animal.
DARIO IN MELO
modified
Traditional Umbundu
ANGOLA NEWSPAPER
Sup.319.1.l2.84
Definite Version in the book WANT TO HEAR?
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHARACTERS
Presenter, cat, duck, chicken, rooster, mouse, (not shown).... donkey.
APRE... Well, live, my boys: small and grown up people, old people, new people... Oh, won't you answer me? Don't say hello or anything? Have manners and be polite people: NOW LIVE! It's good this way. So let's get to the point: we have to present you a musical group: A BAND DA BICHARADA! So, you don't say anything? Not even thank you very much to those who had the trouble of bringing the cat, the duck and the dog, the KIKIRI chicken, the KARÓKOKÓ rooster, the XIRIM-XIXI mouse and O ...(Braying of the donkey that appears) What do you come here to do?
ASS... (Braying, pampers as the answerer) I come to sing.
APRE... But you can't sing!...
DUMB ... (Brays nodding his head yes).
APRE... What an ugly voice, boy...
DUMB ... (The pitiful braying of someone who cries).
APRE... Hold on! Stop for a while. If you want to sing, you will sing...
DUMB ... (Braying for joy and dancing)
APRE... For! Stop it's enough...
BURR... (Says yes with two brays).
APRE... I said: ENOUGH! Can't you see I'm talking, introducing the kids to Banda da Bicharada? This ensemble that sings the most listened to song, the most beautiful noise of our season!... Children's attention: let's listen now...
BURRO... (Brays that brays and pampers that sings)
APRE... (screaming) For! Stop coming...
BURR... (Brays and nods yes).
LEARN... I said: Stop! You are dumb you ASS. You don't know how to sing: Either shut up or leave the room - go for a walk.
DONKEY... (brays briefly and sits down in a corner).
APRE... Well, finally, we can get started. Girls and boys, I have the pleasure to bring and the honor to present the most meowing CAT I could find in the woods...
(The cat enters, meowing. The donkey lets out a short bray. The presenter makes a threatening gesture).
APRE... Next... the croaker that also comes to us from the bush. Girls and boys will enter Mister DUCK.
(Looks back, waiting for the braying of the donkey that doesn't come. Duck enters, quacking with a great fuss).
APRE... Wagging its tail, with great satisfaction (the dog enters backwards) you can see it through the nose: barking, finely tuned, we have another singer: O CÃO; ( instead of barking the dog starts howling).
APRE... What is it! Did you make a mistake in the music?
DOG.... (Nods yes while BAKING pitifully). The Donkey enters braying with joy).
APRE... You shut up: I already told you that you couldn't sing. And you, who are a dog, see if you learn your lesson and start barking. (Turning to the audience). My friends, I'm sorry. I know you'll forgive us: this singer is young, and he lives with his cousins (the dog's cousin is LOBO) that's why he makes a mistake and instead of barking softly - he howls, but he howls with gusto.
DOG... (Starts howling).
APRE... I didn't tell you to howl. I was just explaining.
(The Chicken hurriedly enters, clucking and pacing, lays an egg and leaves. The Rooster jumps, singing. He climbs onto the chair and takes the microphone. The Presenter struggles to take it away from him, but he resists and He ends up triumphant, climbs down from his chair and bows to the applause).
APRE... Now we already have everyone from the group here. Of course, the Mouse is missing (it was late, I don't see it) or it was eaten by the cat, or it was to the cheese shop. And the Chicken too, who came out happy (it had been so long since she had laid an egg, she ran away and went straight away, telling everyone). (The hen enters again, clucking, restlessly from side to side).
APRE... You again? It can't be: laying two eggs a day, you'll certainly weaken... (with tail facing the audience, the egg appears and ends up bursting). I soon saw that your eggs would not be real. And you don't sing, oh rooster? (Turning to the audience) Drop you off! When things are going well, the rooster opportunist starts to sing to the sky: (imitating) Kókórókókó, this egg is mine! This egg is mine.
(The Rooster comes running to the micro. The fight is repeated, but briefly).
APRE... Go to your place now. So let's get started. You, singing cat, give me the E to meow (the cat meows muffled by the donkey's braying) . I said Cat, you ASS. (Brief mournful bray). And you, Dog, if you already know the lesson, give me your barking Lá (the dog howls. It fumbles: but does not bark). You are very out of tune. Dona Chicken please give me your cluck (The hen clucks and runs away. Bents down to lay an egg.) The best thing is to finish, even without doing anything else. if the Band out of tune, you'll excuse me, because you are friendly people.
So let's get started: THE BAND OF THE BICHARADA.
Enter the donkey and the dog
Bark the chicken and the cat
But what a big mess
Q'ha in these singers of the bush
......................
crows the rooster
Meow the cat
the hen clucks
Squeaky the little mouse
The dog barks and the duck quacks
Interrupts because it's boring
The donkey who is jealous.
DARIO DE MELO
OUR STORIES
JORNAL DE ANGOLA/Sup./?/l985(?)
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
LET'S DO THEATER
"The Bicharada Band"
1 - The boy came running and said in amazement:
- Grandfather, our neighbor has strength! It didn't take half an hour to cut the old hose.
The grandfather smiled:
- IT'S ! he finished it in half an hour, which took thirty years to grow.
The boy had never thought. For him, who is only nine, thirty is a lot.
- so grandpa - If I plant a tree today, will it only be big when I'm my father's age?
- Yes. The tree takes time to grow, but it can live longer than man. It has trees, like the baobab, that live up to three and four thousand years.
two - And the grandfather continued to speak:
just think - if you go to the land where the Lord Jesus was born, you can find trees that saw him pass two thousand years ago. Trees from the time of Jesus that are still alive today.
And the boy, thinking to himself:
- Go grandpa! I would like to see a tree like that old.
And the grandfather teaching:
- And you can see. Here in our land you also have very old trees: in the Bailundo pack you have trees that our kings had planted. At “Mulemba Xiangola”, in Luanda, our King Ngola Kiluange and Queen Ginga sat there. In Cuanhama and elsewhere, there is always a tree with a story to tell...
And the astonished boy:
- If trees don't talk, how do they tell stories, grandfather?
3 - And the grandfather explaining:
Trees are like books. For books to speak, we need to know how to read. For trees to speak, the elders need to remember the things that happened to them.
- And does the grandfather know the story of a tree?
And the grandfather pointed and the boy saw it: it was an old avocado stick. So old it almost didn't bear fruit. The boy laughed mockingly and asked:
- That one tree has a story?! A dry stick that is only good for firewood. Better to cut.
- You are right, my grandson. But before I cut you off, I'll tell you something. When I was younger than you, my grandfather planted it for you.
4 - The boy was amazed:
- Grandpa's grandfather, is my what in the family?
- He's your father's great-grandfather and your great-great-grandfather...
- Xi!!! the boy was startled.
- Well then, my grandfather called me one day and said: “My grandson, let's plant a tree together so you can remember me when I die”.
And we planted the tree and it grew. All my eighties, I used to come here, catch its shadow, cherish my grandfather. Now, there is almost no avocado, but it still gives shade, it still stops the dust and the winds, it still reminds me of my oldest... Shall we cut the tree, my grandson?
5 - The two stayed - grandmother and grandson - without saying anything. Then the boy said:
- After all, grandfather, we can't cut down the tree. She will stay there until she dies of her own accord. I will show you in my children. It's the Family Tree. I will remember the grandfather and that great-grandfather who planted it.
- And will tell them that this stick that you can cut in half an hour, to plant, to grow, to bear fruit, it took seventy years to get here. No one can spoil what took your life time to grow.
6 - And the very curious boy:
- How many trees has grandfather planted?
- Lots of. At my age, not a year has gone by without planting a tree. That's why dust and wind don't reach our house here, because of the trees I planted around it. That's why we have fruit. That's why we have firewood.
- Why did grandpa plant a tree yesterday? You won't see him grow...
- We don't plant just for each one. Old people plant trees and it's for their children, for their grandchildren, just like your great-great-grandfather did. He planted it for me, for your father, for you... Every tree that remains is a memory for the family to come.
7 - were walking - the grandfather and the grandson - for the Family Tree. sat down. They leaned against her and enjoyed her coolness. Grandfather said:
- Look, my grandson: there are people who say that a man is only really a man when he makes a child or plants a tree.
And the grandson remembering:
- So this is what the elders are saying: “Each one must plant his own tree"...
- That's right! That's why we talk like this - a man, a tree.
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
A MAN - A TREE
THE FOX AND THE MOLE were comads in the robbery. And they agreed like this: one stole chickens, the other stole cornmeal that she took from the yard where the women walked on her.
One day, they were returning from stealing (after making the funge and fixing the chicken) when the mole remembered:
- What if before eating, we were to take a bath in the river?
- With this heat now... I think it's good.
They left, then they went. The mole dove. And as there was a hole right under the water - he went out through it, walked, passed, and soon he arrived home. He went to the chicken and the fungi, and the chewing that chews didn't leave a single sample.
And returned in a hurry. He came out of the water and shouted:
- I already had a bath, comadre. We can go.
So they got home, and the poor fox saw only bones for food.
- Who will have stolen the chicken we made?
- How do you want me to know if I've always been with you?
And the other day the same: the fox went to the chickens and the mole went to the fuba. They beat the fungi, refined the sauce - the chicken was smelling such an appetite, when the trickster remembered:
- Shall we wash in the river?
- How not?! "People who are educated, should eat well washed".
They left and arrived. The mole dove, entered the hole and went out by the house. And, in the chicken and the fungi (bites that bite and chew) ate the whole lunch. He returned, came out of the water, and shouted to his companion:
- I already had a bath, comadre. We can go.
And the same scene from yesterday repeating itself just now.
- Who was the thief who ate what is ours?
- How can I know if I've always been with you?
And the fox, already so hungry, thought: "I don't know how this godmother can stand so much hunger! I would eat a whole rooster myself. Big rooster. It can't be a chick or a hen. I'm hungry enough to eat. 'to kill a chicken coop".
There went the fox walking in search of his meat. And the mole, dodging, to go get the fuba. And everything came back the same...
- Shall we shower, comadre?
And the fox hesitating:
- Who knows if today the thief is afraid to come here?
- Really! It was shameless to come stealing every day.
- It was also only possible to guess that we were going to the river today.
- So it is.
- Only if you were peeking... Did the godmother see anyone?
And the mole (with innocent eyes) lying and pretending:
- I didn't, no.
- Let's go then. It would be very unlucky for the thief to return.
And so they arrived at the river. The mole dove in, got into the hole, got home, ate and then ran again.
- I already had a bath, comadre.
- Come on, I'm hungry.
Run that run, the fox and the mole - a full of hunger and such a full chat. But, again, the thief...
- Who could have been the bad guy?
- So how do you want me to know if I've always been with you?
- I leave later tomorrow. I only leave at noon.
And the mole saying:
- I can't be too late. At noon, the women are working. I have to go stealing while they're sleeping.
And it was. And the fox stayed. She stayed--it's not quite staying, because I saw her go out by the river path. He went out into the water, searched and searched until he found the hole.
"Well then, this godmother, that's how she deceived me"?
And he went to see on the other side, where the hole would have: right next to the house. Hidden, disguised, with a lot of grass.
"Well then, the smartass!... You'll just see how you pay me".
And set a trap.
And then the mole arrived with its bag of cornmeal. Then came the fox with his stolen chicken. They lit fire, cooked, refined...
- Shall we bathe in the river?
Now the fox was speaking, and the godmother, happy:
- Let's go - I'm so dirty. Carrying it with flour, we are all pigs.
Were. They arrived. They tasted the water: it was good. They dove. The mole, as we know: it slipped into the hole and when it was reaching the other side, it fell into that trap - trapped and well trapped.
- Help, comadre, help.
- Is it? Who are you? I do not know you.
- I am your godmother.
- It cannot be, my friend. My own godmother is in the river taking a bath.
- It's just that I came to the house to see if I could find the thief...
- Why didn't you tell me so I could come with you?
- Because if there was bad luck (like this bad luck in the trap) there would only be a bad luck person. The other came to help.
- Oh yeah?! "You put your hand in the fungi and you put the fungi in your mouth - it's not something to eat, but to see if it's hot?"
- That's it, comadre, that's it.
- So it is! So guess now: "if two cook and only one is watching, who then ate?
How the story ended, I don't know. What I do know and have been told is that the fox and the mole were never friends again. And after what happened, ashamed to be seen, the mole lives in holes: hidden, deep down, buried in the ground.
Shame and fear also that the fox appears to him asking again: "If two cook and only one watches, who then ate?"
DARIO IN MELO
Adaptation
Traditional Umbundu
JORNAL DE ANGOLA/Sup.318/24.ll.84
Edited in the Book WANT LISTEN?
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
THE FOX AND THE MOLE
I got to thinking and listening to what the Scissors said to the Matchbox...
- Well, I won't even tell you what work I have! I cut dresses, suits and hair - and today, as you can see, I came to help these boys play (and cut out) paper dolls.
- Now! What you do is garbage. I don't even want to hear the noise their mother is going to make.
And the mother came in (and started to scold: the room was all dirty, everything was so messed up...)
- What dump is this?
- We're just kidding...
- And the living room is a place of play?
- We'll sweep later, mother.
Whether they swept or not, I don't know: I forgot to see. I paid attention to the Box that was talking and coming from inside the back of the kitchen.
- I did not say? Why don't you choose a job like mine? This is what work is: clean and important... without me lighting the fire, there would be no food: the babies' milk wouldn't heat up; the elders' tea did not boil; everyone's funge couldn't be done.
And Scissors (angry now) responding angrily to such foolish vanity:
- Look how she talks! Have you forgotten your home-burning life? From a fire pit in the woods and in the fields? From a bandit killing young birds that are the little boys in the sky? ...
And it reminded him (and began to tell) the story of the partridge who had four children. Three learned to fly. The other didn't: he had heavy laziness wings and only thought about sleeping.
At hunting time, the men and the Box appeared. They made a fire. They set fire to everything there was. Who could run away, ran away. Those who knew how to fly, flew (and there were three droplets that flew). One stayed, was lazy, didn't want to get up right away... He slept (until the fire arrived, until the fire burned, wings, laziness and all...)
The Caixa heard, shamed and shut up:
- After all, when misused, instead of good I am disgrace.
And the scissors thought:
- Me too. Sometimes I spike and even cut.
And the two were sad: Scissors didn't want to cut anymore (it got rusty) afraid of doing harm. The Box started looking for water to get wet (and spoil) and not light up not even a match.
That's when I, who was right at the door of the conversation, spoke and said:
- Things are neither good nor bad. It is according to the service that we do with them...
" Stone that breaks the head, also serves to hold the wall".
And they listened and learned. They came together and combined:
- Are we going to work for a place where nobody makes us do wrong?
And they went. They entered a hospital. There, the story was different...
Once upon a time, there was a woman who was going to have a baby. We know: When a baby is born, you need very hot water, boiled scissors and the rest too.
The midwife arrived. The Box lit a match. Scissors boiled.
And the baby, the boy (or would it be a girl?) was born.
DARIO DE MELO
ANGOLA NEWSPAPER
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
THE STONE THAT BREAKS THE HEAD
Look, the jaguar was afraid of the goat. And come on, he was a little right, because the goat (which, even because he was older, should have been called a goat) had horns, a big goatee, and a very respectful face. No respect. Fear is what it was.
And the goat - which was as old as a goat - smart and a thief, did everything to make the jaguar believe he was a bad animal.
- Thief, how? - are you asking...
I tell you everything (everything) you want to know. It's just not worth it, nor is it nice, to put your word in someone else's conversation without permission. Who speaks, speaks; who listens, listens...
- And what is this listening?
It's listening carefully. Just now I spoke, so as not to interrupt me, and soon a question appeared. I know you heard what I said. But listening, distracted, if you heard, you didn't listen...
So I'm going to go back to the story of the jaguar that was afraid, the goat that was a bad guy, and what else happened and you want to know...
- So where were we?
In the goat that knew how afraid the jaguar was, the lady exploited it. Because this sister of ours had a very large palm grove, and so, with so many palm trees, she had a lot of wine at home... Do you know or don't you know, do you know or don't know, that palm wine is even called MARUFO? Well... Right here in this story, if the jaguar had the wine, the goat had the thirst. And every day he arrived and this is how he said:
- Good morning sister.
- Thank you very much. Good morning - and the jaguar, full of fear, did not stop shaking.
- It's hot. I'm thirsty.
- Well, the heat is too much.
- Well, thirst too, said the goat, frowning and looking at the marufo's gourd.
Out of fear, the jaguar could barely walk. He was shaking, and it was shaking that he gave that goat a drink. who drank and drank more - after one gourd, another. After another, one more.
- See you tomorrow - said the goat without thinking of payment.
- be well, see you tomorrow - the jaguar replied, without receiving, not even just asking, when do you pay me...
And the next day, and the next, there was the goat again;
- Good morning sister.
- Thank you very much. Good morning - and the jaguar trembled.
- It's hot. I'm thirsty.
- Well, the heat is too much.
The jaguar wanted to see if he could escape handing over the marufo gourds. He pretended not to understand what the goat was saying.
- Well, the thirst too.
And the jaguar, full of fear, gave the goat to drink.
And the goat, well he drank, and when he was done - fired, left, didn't even say thank you, didn't even pay.
But one day...
The goat came and the son came - a small, jumping, wading kid. There was the jaguar and there was the daughter - a younger girl, who sometimes even jumped, but today she was so scared, she didn't even move.
- Good morning, said the goat, getting more and more rude. I want to drink, I'm thirsty - And, talking to the son: Go play with the girl while I have a drink.
The little jaguar, poor thing, full of fear:
- But I don't even know how to play or jump like a goat.
- You don't know, learn, come on. Go play I tell you.
And the girl, no peeps - that goat had a face! The goat had a snout!... And that evil beard, and the rascal eyes... the girl said nothing, she was very afraid.
- Let's play what? asked the little goat.
- You really are the one who knows, if you really are in charge.
- We fight. Let's fight.
- But that's not pretty: we're not even angry...
Full-breasted, the kid:
- It doesn't hurt. We can be angry now.
And the leopard trembling:
- But I don't want to get angry... and even, there's no right, because you're stronger, and besides being a goat, you're older...
- I already said: let's fight.
And, without further talking, he threw a butt at him. The leopard swerved away: it jumped to its left and grabbed the goat, right by the neck.
- M... M... screamed the poor thing - you're hurting me.
- You were the one who wanted to fight. It was you who attacked.
And the girl didn't let go:
- After all, where is your strength, kid?
- Me... please can you let me...
And the girl left, and went to her mother, and very quietly told...
- Another gourd, asked the goat, happy. This marufo is pretty good.
- It's a first-class marufo, that is - said the warned jaguar, and now without any fear. That's why I sell expensive.
- It's good, comadre, it's good: whoever wants good pays better, said the fool, thinking he was still scared.
- So the man agrees?
- How it is?! Shouldn't you agree? A marufinho like this, whoever drinks, must pay. Well then! And pay well.
- Does the compadre think so?
-I think. Of course I do.
- So if you think, compadre, why do you think and not pay?
- I?
And the goat scowled, showed horns, showed a beard, jumped up, got hideous... Only the jaguar smiled.
- Bad face muzzle, don't pay good marufo. Stop dancing. Put your money there: it's thirty days a month; there are six gourds a day...
- Better be careful - threatened the thief... Don't you know who I am?...
- Oh I know, compadre, I know that. Right now I know: you are just like your son's family. You only have strength in your throat to cry and say MÉ. If I grab you by the neck... do you want to try it, compadre?
Did not want to. And thirty days a month, at six gourds a day (the goat didn't even say anything) paid.
And ever since then: never again!...
Traditional Kissorongo Tale
Free adaptation by RÙBEN TITO
JORNAL DE ANGOLA /Sup.263/15.10.83
Definite Version in the book I WILL COUNT
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
THE JUNG AND THE GOAT
You know how lazy the mouth is: it just talks and doesn't work, just eats, eats and nothing else. The hands are yes: they do all the work... In the field, they sow, plant and weed; At lunch they serve: with the sauce and take the fungi the mouth. She is the one who eats and who likes it, who is like this, satisfied...
And then do you know why?
Well, they don't know. I'll tell...
There in the lands of Lunda, Boca lived and Mão lived. Both in the same village. One day it happened that they agreed to go on business to Nhemba.
That was their life: they went to the South, in Menongue, to sell some bales of
cloths and blankets; they would then return upstairs with the changed imbambas: they would bring goats and oxen, or even sheep and weapons.
Walking and walking, they had walked many days already, when the sky darkened. The mouth started to speak:
- Look, it's going to rain. We're going to be really bad - the bales will get wet. It doesn't escape: the cloths, our blankets, our business with the rain, it's going to be a bad business...
- And because it talked and talked, the Mouth did nothing. The Hand - that one - cut grass on one side, pulled sticks on the other, always boiling with the work of building a hut. Finished, got in. The mouth continued...
But when the rain was dripping, he got the urge to fall harder and asked permission to enter.
- Don't get involved here, said the Hand. "Whoever builds the house, rests in profit."
- You're right. I'll stay out here. Let me just put the burdens of my business inside.
- Do not . Neither. "Everyone's business, it is not kept in someone else's house".
And it rained (if it rained!) and all night it rained and it just rained. The sun came. Then the Mouth (wet through the night) spoke and said to the Hand:
- Sister: let's wait a bit. Let me dry my clothes and spread out my cloths.
- Do not. We are already late enough. Let's go anyway. "Lizard that stays in the sun, it's because there's no service". We have.
And they walked and walked and came to a village and slept. The Hand opened its burdens. He exchanged well: cloths for sheep and goats, blankets for oxen and weapons. Boca wanted to sell, but everyone was enjoying it:
- Who's going to want these moldy rags? Just look!...
AND I hadn't even finished taking everything out, they were already on their way back. The Hand was in a hurry:
- Don't waste time: if the mouth speech and the ear listens, the eyes buy. Nobody will buy you anything.
And they came back - walking and walking in the days of your return. On the way was a man.
- How is it then, O Boca? You come back like that, loaded, without doing your thing? Let's make a trade, said the man. give me your cloths that I give you my dog.
- A dog alone for all these rags of mine?
- Take a good look: this dog is not just any dog. The job he does is catching elephants.
Mouth accepted. And walking, always walking until they reach the land. So yes sir...
... The Hand was well greeted. Rich vineyard. There were oxen and there were goats. It had sheep and it had weapons - it had everything. The Boca couldn't even regret it: look at that, it brought a dog!
A dog that catches elephants - well done! And where are the elephants, if there were none on earth? ... So what is the dog for?
And the time that passed passed, until one day, on the farm...
... cassavas that you put in today, they'll be eaten by you tomorrow. There was an elephant there - or just one, or many more, no one knew for sure.
- My sister, asked the Hand, a favor only one that I wanted you: to lend me your dog.
- Oh yeah?... You who used to belittle me, now you want my dog?
And the Mouth spoke-spoke, nonsense a bit. She also knew words of help. Then he said:
- Take the dog but be careful: you must never hit him.
- You can rest easy.
- And take a good look, my friend - don't lose my dog. See if you pay attention: a dog that catches elephants, or anything can pay it.
And the hand (which only thinks about working, doing things, not wasting time, always moving, moving) was already out of patience to put up with those who just talked. He took the dog and left. He entered the field and waited for the elephants to arrive.
One arrived. The dog ran. The elephant fell. The Hand came, he had a gun and right there he killed him. You know: "dog that has a nose in the meat, doesn't wait for a license to be able to chew". And the Hand (which cannot be still, nor still, always moving and even knocking) as soon as he saw the dog eating, he slapped him. It wasn't bad. But only then did he remember not to knock.
Because the truth was this: as soon as she came and knocked, the dog disappeared (or ran away, or I don't even know)...
-My sister: I come to pay you for the dog.
I brought the sheep first. the mouth looked and said:
- They are fat, they are. But just like that, the sheep can't pay the dog.
And he sent for the oxen. Mouth appreciated...
- Beautiful oxen, that's what they are. But even so, all together, it is not possible to pay the dog.
It was the Hand - it was herself - to get the weapons she had.
- How good the weapons are! But it's still missing, it's not enough; I can't pay the dog.
- Madam," said the Hand, "I really don't have anything else. I already gave everything I had. But since it's not enough yet, I'll work for you. I will be at your service.
And stayed. And since then, Boca (our Boca) only talks and eats and nothing else. The Hand does it all: dig, sow, plant, weed, harvest, dry, wash, treat, color, season, cook... put it on the plate, mix the funji in the sauce and even take it to the door of Boca.
And Boca, without further work, eats. The funji doesn't even chew: it likes it, swallows it and stays like that, satisfied waiting for more to come...
But just tell me: what if one day the Hand thinks of resting?
Poor Dona Boca! Either he eats his words, or if he wants manioc, he really has to work.
FIFTY QUICO TALES
Free Adaptation of DARIO IN MELO
OUR STORIES
NEWSPAPER IN ANGOLA/
top No. 248/02.07.83
CHILDREN'S STORIES
CHILDREN'S STORIES
THE HAND AND THE MOUTH
There once was a star. Little, little. A little light button. An almost nothing. It was a pity to see her: like that alone, without color or shine, in the abandoned garden of heaven.
Because the sky is a garden, where the stars are flowers that the sun sows with light, with light of all colors...
And the star (small little one), the little star that didn't even have a color, was in the sky like a girl (without a name) trying to find out who it was.
- Father Sun, she called, with such a weak, poor and yellow light, who am I, abandoned like this, in a lost bed in your sky?
And the Sun did not respond. Didn't speak. Words? Not just one... And the little star cried. A tear of light that fell on her (but so small) that it didn't fall anywhere.
And so much asked and asked. And so much walked and walked, walked so much (that already not quite knowing where he was) went to a road and rested.
- Road of light, pebbles of heaven, tell me: do you know what I'm good for?
Nobody spoke to him, nor answered him (roads don't talk...)
- There! Everyone shut up. How poor I am. I'm going to go to the moon, which is on the other street behind the sky...
And the moon arrived. And the moon slept.
- Oh! moon, wake up, so told him.
And the moon woke up.
- What good am I, who don't even know who I am?
And the Moon smiled and advised "Fly to the land that you would know there, the land is so close".
And the star flew, until it happened to fall in a desert.
What an idea!
Such an ugly thing,... a desert!
Just sand and more sand! (and so, so much heat, so much wind, that people even thought that the moon was bad and would not have, neither heart, nor love, nor feeling).
And the little star stayed. Even sadder and alone...
It's a day...
…an ant was walking through the desert beyond, dying of thirst. And behold: he saw the star resting on the sand and he thought it was the sea...
- It looks like a mirage: so much water! I'll take a shower. I will drink first. I'm going to end my journey here, to build an anthill here.
And she was all happy, calling her sisters who were nearby (ants and ants, dying of thirst also in this desert).
And the star girl (little one) that was after all, rain that the wind had forgotten...
The nameless star (so alone) I didn't even know who it was...
The different star (the little star in the sky) that shouted to everyone: "What about me? do I serve?"... Now he knew what it was for. How much was it worth...
Do you say it or do you want me to say it? Or do you mean first?
It was water for the ants' thirst (and was worth) the life of an entire anthill. all.
DARIO DE MELO
JOURNAL OF ANGOLA /
Sup.179/05.12.81
Russian translation - USSR Children's Magazine -nº3 -March 83
Miruí Collection (INALD) 1986