Waltey
Dan velike nevihte
037 THE DAY OF THE GREAT STORM
Živalske zgodbe Clare Dillingham Pierson · Clara Dillingham PiersonO besedilu
Dan velike nevihte
- Vir
- Živalske zgodbe Clare Dillingham Pierson
- Avtor
- Clara Dillingham Pierson
- Jezik branja
- Slovenščina
- Jezik izvirnika
- English
- Čas branja
- 5 min branja
- Obseg
- 4 strani
- Naslov izvirnika
- 037 THE DAY OF THE GREAT STORM
O izvirniku
Živalske zgodbe Clare Dillingham Pierson
Devetindevetdeset avtorskih zgodb o živalih na kmetiji, travniku, v gozdu, ob ribniku in ponoči. Bralni jezik je Slovenščina, izvirnik pa prihaja iz vira Živalske zgodbe Clare Dillingham Pierson v jeziku English.
Besedilo
Dan velike nevihte
Na travniku je bilo vse suho in prašno. Listi svilnic so rumeneli od žeje, poljske cvetlice so v sončni pripeki povešale svoje nežne glavice in trava je bila tako rjava in suha, da je v vetru kar šelestela.
Kadar so se prebivalci travnika srečali, so si vselej rekli: »No, to pa je vročina!« Kača podveznica, ki je tam živela dlje kot kdor koli drug, pa je zatrjevala, da tako vročega in suhega vremena še ni doživela. »Resnično,« je rekla, »tako vroče je, da še jesti ne morem, kaj takega pa se mi ni zgodilo še nikoli.«
Kobilice in Kobilice selivke so bile zelo srečne, saj jim je bilo takšno vreme prav po godu. Niso razumele, kako se lahko kdo pritožuje nad tako čudovitimi žgočimi dnevi. A saj veste, tako je zmeraj: vsem hkrati pač ni mogoče ustreči in za dobro letino je potrebno vsakršno vreme.
Uboga Rega se je zavlekla na najhladnejše mesto, kar ga je mogla najti — v votlo drevo, v senčen kotiček pod praprotjo ali celo pod rob velikega kamna. »Oh,« je vzdihovala, »ko bi bila spet paglavec in bi plavala v senčni mlaki! Pot do močvirja je tako dolga in vroča, da se ne morem odpraviti tja. Sinoči se mi je sanjalo, da sem paglavec in čofotam po vodi. Kako težko se je bilo zbuditi in ugotoviti, da sem le stara Rega, ki ji je neznansko neudobno.«
Nad njeno glavo so Zelene kobilice pele: »Krasno vreme! Krasno vreme!« Rega, ki je bila navsezadnje dobrodušna stara žaba, pa jim je pomežiknila in rekla: »Kar pojte. To ne bo trajalo večno in potem bom jaz na vrsti za petje.«
In res je že naslednji dan po nebu priplul droben oblaček in Rega, ki je vedno vedela, kdaj se bo vreme spremenilo, je začela svojo dežno pesem. »Pukr-r-rup!« je pela. »Pukr-r-rup! Deževalo bo! Deževalo bo! D-d-d-dež!«
Drobni beli oblaček je postajal vse večji in temnejši, za njim je prišel še eden, nato še eden in še eden in še eden, dokler ni bilo vse nebo prekrito s hitečimi črnimi oblaki. Tedaj je dolgo in zamolklo zagrmelo in vsi prebivalci travnika so pohiteli iskat zavetje. Vešče in Metulji so se oprijeli spodnjih strani velikih listov. Kobilice in njihove sorodnice so zlezle pod repince in lučnike. Mravlje so hitele vsaka proti svojemu domu. Čebele in Ose, ki so nabirale med za svoja gnezda, so naglo poletele nazaj. Vsi so hiteli, da bi bili pred ploho na varnem, nad vsem šumenjem in vrvežem pa je bilo slišati glas stare Rege: »Pukr-r-rup! Pukr-r-rup! Deževalo bo! Deževalo bo! D-d-d-dež!«
Veter je pihal vse močneje, veje so se zibale in premetavale, listi so poplesovali in nekatere je celo odtrgalo z njihovih dreves mater; stotine drobnih bitij se je vse tesneje oklepalo listov, pod katerimi so se skrivala. Potem pa je prišel dež — in kakšen dež! Velikanske kaplje so hitele z neba, se prerivale druga mimo druge, tlačile travo k tlom, zalivale domove Mravelj in Os grebač, da so se te že napol dušile v vodi, ter prevračale Kobilice in jih premetavale kakor listje. Bliskalo se je in grmelo, in kadar je veter silovito zabučal, je v bližnjem gozdu marsikatero drevo s truščem treščilo na tla.
Ko so bili vsi premočeni in so po travi curljali potočki ter se v kotanjah stekali v velike luže, je dež ponehal, kar naenkrat ponehal. Drug za drugim so prebivalci travnika prilezli ali priplavali na plan.
Osa grebača je na listu plavala po veliki luži. Bila je preutrujena in premokra, da bi poletela, in od vrtenja lista ji je bilo slabo ter se ji je vrtelo v glavi, vendar je trdno stala na svojem drobnem čolničku in se trudila dajati vtis, da pri tem uživa.
Mravlje so hitele urejat svoje domove, Pajki so marljivo jedli stare mreže, ki jih je neurje potrgalo in razcefralo, nekateri pa so že začeli presti nove. Velika družina Čebel, ki jim je veter podrl drevo, v katerem so prebivale, je preletela travnik v iskanju novega doma. Zdelo se je, da so v hladnem zraku po nevihti vsi zaposleni in zadovoljni.
Kača je drsela skozi mokro travo, lačna kakor nekdaj, Rega je bila srečna kot takrat, ko je bila še paglavec, le Kobilice in njihove sorodnice, Kobilice selivke in Zelene kobilice, so bile čemerne. »Kako ostuden dež!« so godrnjale. »Vse veselje nam je pokvaril. Pa po tako čudovitem vročem vremenu!«
»Nikar ne bodite neumne,« je rekla Rega, ki je znala biti tudi zares stroga, kadar se ji je zdelo potrebno. »Čebele in Mravlje se nič ne pritožujejo, pa so jo precej huje skupile kot ve. Ali res ne znate iz ničesar potegniti najboljšega? Prav lepa lačna in čemerna druščina bi bile, če ne bi deževalo, saj potem ne bi imele dobre, sočne hrane. Tako je nazadnje bolje tudi za vas, pa tudi če ne bi bilo, bi se lahko sprijaznile in poiskale kaj dobrega, kakor sem jaz v vročem vremenu. Ko boste živele toliko časa kot jaz, boste vedele, da ne Kobilicam ne Regam ne more biti vedno vse po volji, a se na koncu vse vendarle dobro izteče, ne da bi se morale zaradi tega jeziti.«
Izvirnik
037 THE DAY OF THE GREAT STORM
Naslednje strani prikazujejo izvirno besedilo za primerjavo.
Everything in the meadow was dry and dusty. The leaves on the milkweeds were turning yellow with thirst, the field blossoms drooped their dainty heads in the sunshine, and the grass seemed to fairly rattle in the wind, it was so brown and dry.
All of the meadow people when they met each other would say, "Well, this is hot," and the Garter Snake, who had lived there longer than anyone else, declared that it was the hottest and driest time that he had ever known. "Really," he said, "it is so hot that I cannot eat, and such a thing never happened before."
The Grasshoppers and Locusts were very happy, for such weather was exactly what they liked. They didn't see how people could complain of such delightful scorching days. But that, you know, is always the way, for everybody cannot be suited at once, and all kinds of weather are needed to make a good year.
The poor Tree Frog crawled into the coolest place he could find--hollow trees, shady nooks under the ferns, or even beneath the corner of a great stone. "Oh," said he, "I wish I were a Tadpole again, swimming in a shady pool. It is such a long, hot journey to the marsh that I cannot go. Last night I dreamed that I was a Tadpole, splashing in the water, and it was hard to awaken and find myself only an uncomfortable old Tree Frog."
Over his head the Katydids were singing, "Lovely weather! Lovely weather!" and the Tree Frog, who was a good-natured old fellow after all, winked his eye at them and said: "Sing away. This won't last always, and then it will be my turn to sing."
Sure enough, the very next day a tiny cloud drifted across the sky, and the Tree Frog, who always knew when the weather was about to change, began his rain-song. "Pukr-r-rup!" sang he, "Pukr-r-rup! It will rain! It will rain! R-r-r-rain!"
The little white cloud, grew bigger and blacker, and another came following after, then another, and another, and another, until the sky was quite covered with rushing black clouds. Then came a long, low rumble of thunder, and all the meadow people hurried to find shelter. The Moths and Butterflies hung on the under sides of great leaves. The Grasshoppers and their cousins crawled under burdock and mullein plants. The Ants scurried around to find their own homes. The Bees and Wasps, who had been gathering honey for their nests, flew swiftly back. Everyone was hurrying to be ready for the shower, and above all the rustle and stir could be heard the voice of the old Frog, "Pukr-r-rup! Pukr-r-rup! It will rain! It will rain! R-r-r-rain!"
The wind blew harder and harder, the branches swayed and tossed, the leaves danced, and some even blew off of their mother trees; the hundreds of little clinging creatures clung more and more tightly to the leaves that sheltered them, and then the rain came, and such a rain! Great drops hurrying down from the sky, crowding each other, beating down the grass, flooding the homes of the Ants and Digger Wasps until they were half choked with water, knocking over the Grasshoppers and tumbling them about like leaves. The lightning flashed, and the thunder pealed, and often a tree would crash down in the forest near by when the wind blew a great blast.
When everybody was wet, and little rivulets of water were trickling through the grass and running into great puddles in the hollows, the rain stopped, stopped suddenly. One by one the meadow people crawled or swam into sight.
The Digger Wasp was floating on a leaf in a big puddle. He was too tired and wet to fly, and the whirling of the leaf made him feel sick and dizzy, but he stood firmly on his tiny boat and tried to look as though he enjoyed it.
The Ants were rushing around to put their homes in shape, the Spiders were busily eating their old webs, which had been broken and torn in the storm, and some were already beginning new ones. A large family of Bees, whose tree-home had been blown down, passed over the meadow in search for a new dwelling, and everybody seemed busy and happy in the cool air that followed the storm.
The Snake went gliding through the wet grass, as hungry as ever, the Tree Frog was as happy as when he was a Tadpole, and only the Grasshoppers and their cousins, the Locusts and Katydids, were cross. "Such a horrid rain!" they grumbled, "it spoiled all our fun. And after such lovely hot weather too."
"Now don't be silly," said the Tree Frog, who could be really severe when he thought best, "the Bees and the Ants are not complaining, and they had a good deal harder time than you. Can't you make the best of anything? A nice, hungry, cross lot you would be if it didn't rain, because then you would have no good, juicy food. It's better for you in the end as it is, but even if it were not, you might make the best of it as I did of the hot weather. When you have lived as long as I have, you will know that neither Grasshoppers nor Tree Frogs can have their way all the time, but that it always comes out all right in the end without their fretting about it."
Nadaljuj z branjem
