Prevod

Heinz was lazy, and although he had nothing to do but drive his goat out to pasture each day, he would still sigh when he came home in the evening after his day’s work. “It truly is a heavy burden,” he said, “and a wearisome business, driving a goat out into the fields year in, year out, right into late autumn. If only one could lie down and sleep while doing it! But no, you have to keep your eyes open so she doesn’t damage the young trees, push through the hedge into a garden, or even run away. How is a man ever to get any rest and enjoy his life?” He sat down, gathered his thoughts, and considered how he might lift this burden from his shoulders. For a long time all his pondering was in vain, but suddenly the scales fell from his eyes. “I know what I’ll do!” he cried. “I’ll marry fat Trine. She has a goat too, and she can drive mine out with hers. Then I shan’t have to torment myself any longer.”

So Heinz rose, set his weary limbs in motion, and went across the street—for that was as far as he had to go—to the house where fat Trine’s parents lived, and asked for the hand of their industrious and virtuous daughter. Her parents did not take long to consider. “Birds of a feather flock together,” they thought, and gave their consent. Thus fat Trine became Heinz’s wife and drove both goats out to pasture. Heinz had an easy life and needed to recover from no other exertion than his own laziness. Only now and then did he go out with her, saying, “I’m only doing this so I’ll enjoy my rest all the more afterwards. Otherwise one loses all appreciation of it.”

But fat Trine was no less lazy. “Dear Heinz,” she said one day, “why should we make life hard for ourselves for no reason, and waste the best years of our youth? Wouldn’t it be better to give our neighbour the two goats, which disturb our sweetest sleep every morning with their bleating, and have him give us a beehive in exchange? We can put the hive in a sunny spot behind the house and not trouble ourselves about it again. Bees need neither tending nor driving out into the fields. They fly off, find their own way home again, and gather honey without the least effort on our part.” “You have spoken like a sensible woman,” Heinz replied. “Let us carry out your plan without delay. Besides, honey tastes better and is more nourishing than goat’s milk, and it keeps longer too.”

The neighbour gladly gave them a beehive for the two goats. From early morning until late evening, the bees flew tirelessly in and out, filling the hive with the finest honey, so that in autumn Heinz was able to take out a whole jarful.

They put the jar on a shelf fixed high on the wall in their bedchamber, and because they feared it might be stolen or the mice might get at it, Trine fetched a stout hazel stick and laid it beside her bed, where she could reach it without getting up needlessly and drive away any uninvited guests from her bed.

Lazy Heinz did not like leaving his bed before noon. “He who rises early,” he would say, “eats up his fortune.” One morning, as he lay snug in bed in broad daylight, resting after his long sleep, he said to his wife, “Women are fond of sweet things, and you keep dipping into the honey. Before you eat it all yourself, we had better trade it for a goose and a little gosling.” “But not,” Trine replied, “until we have a child to tend them. Am I supposed to plague myself with young geese and waste my strength for no reason?” “Do you think,” said Heinz, “the boy will tend geese? Children no longer obey nowadays. They do as they please because they think themselves wiser than their parents, just like that farmhand who was sent to look for the cow and went chasing three blackbirds instead.” “Oh,” Trine answered, “he’ll be sorry if he doesn’t do as I say. I’ll take a stick and tan his hide with more blows than he can count. Look, Heinz,” she cried in her excitement, seizing the stick she meant to use to drive away the mice, “look, this is how I’ll beat him!” She swung the stick, but unfortunately struck the honey jar above the bed. The jar crashed against the wall and fell in pieces, and the lovely honey flowed over the floor. “There lies the goose and her little gosling,” said Heinz, “and neither needs tending now. Still, it’s a blessing the jar didn’t fall on my head. We have every reason to be content with our lot.” Then, noticing a little honey left in one of the broken pieces, he reached for it and said quite cheerfully, “Wife, let us enjoy this last little bit, and then rest a while after the fright we’ve had. What does it matter if we get up a little later than usual? The day is still quite long enough.” “Yes,” Trine replied, “there’s always time enough to arrive. You know, a snail was once invited to a wedding and set off on her way, but by the time she arrived, they were celebrating the christening. Just outside the house she stumbled over the fence and said, ‘It never does to hurry.’”