Prevod

A poor widow lived all alone in a little cottage, and in front of the cottage was a garden where two rose trees grew, one bearing white roses and the other red. She had two children who were like the two rose trees: one was called Snow-white and the other Rose-red. They were as good and devout, as hardworking and cheerful as any two children in the world, only Snow-white was quieter and gentler than Rose-red. Rose-red liked best to run about the meadows and fields, gathering flowers and catching butterflies, while Snow-white stayed at home with her mother, helping with the housework or reading aloud to her when there was nothing to do. The two children loved each other so dearly that whenever they went out together, they always held hands; and when Snow-white said, "We will never leave each other," Rose-red answered, "Not as long as we live," and their mother added, "Whatever one of you has, she must share with the other." They often roamed the forest alone, gathering red berries, but no animal ever harmed them. Instead, the creatures came trustfully up to them: the little hare ate a cabbage leaf from their hands, the roe deer grazed beside them, the stag bounded merrily past, and the birds stayed on their branches and sang every song they knew. No harm ever befell them. If they stayed too late in the forest and night overtook them, they lay down side by side on the moss and slept until morning came; their mother knew this and never worried about them. Once, when they had spent the night in the forest and the rosy dawn woke them, they saw a beautiful child in a shining white robe sitting beside their resting place. The child rose and looked at them kindly, but said nothing and went into the forest. When they looked about them, they found that they had slept close to a precipice and would surely have fallen over it had they gone a few steps farther in the darkness. Their mother told them it must have been the angel who watches over good children.

Snow-white and Rose-red kept their mother's cottage so neat that it was a joy to look inside. In summer, Rose-red tended the house, and every morning, before her mother woke, she placed a bunch of flowers beside her bed, with a rose from each little tree among them. In winter, Snow-white lit the fire and hung the kettle on its hook; the kettle was made of brass, but it was scoured so clean that it shone like gold. In the evenings, when the snowflakes fell, their mother would say, "Go and bolt the door, Snow-white." Then they sat by the hearth, and their mother put on her spectacles and read aloud from a large book while the two girls sat spinning and listening. A little lamb lay on the floor beside them, and behind them a white dove perched on a pole, its head tucked beneath its wing.

One evening, as they were sitting cosily together, someone knocked at the door as though asking to be let in. Their mother said, "Quick, Rose-red, open the door. It must be a traveller looking for shelter." Rose-red went and drew back the bolt, thinking it was a poor man, but it was not: it was a bear, thrusting his great black head through the doorway. Rose-red screamed and sprang back; the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered up, and Snow-white hid behind her mother's bed. But the bear began to speak. "Do not be afraid," he said. "I will not hurt you. I am half frozen and only want to warm myself a little by your fire." "You poor bear," said the mother, "lie down by the fire, and take care not to burn your fur." Then she called, "Snow-white, Rose-red, come out. The bear will not hurt you; he means us no harm." So they both came over, and little by little the lamb and the dove drew near too, no longer afraid of him. The bear said, "Children, knock a little of the snow out of my fur." They fetched the broom and swept his coat clean, while he stretched out beside the fire, growling contentedly. Before long they were quite at ease with him and began to play tricks on their clumsy guest. They tugged his fur with their hands, set their little feet against his back and rolled him to and fro, or took a hazel switch and beat him with it, laughing whenever he growled. The bear willingly put up with it all, but when they became too rough, he called, "Spare my life, children.

Snow-white, Rose-red, would you beat your suitor dead?" When bedtime came and the others went to bed, the mother said to the bear, "You may stay here by the hearth, in God's name. You will be sheltered from the cold and the foul weather." At daybreak the two children let him out, and he trotted across the snow into the forest. From then on, the bear came every evening at the same hour, lay down by the hearth, and let the children play with him as much as they pleased. They grew so used to him that the door was never bolted until their black companion had arrived.

When spring had come and everything outside was green, the bear said to Snow-white one morning, "Now I must go away, and I cannot come back all summer." "Where are you going, dear bear?" asked Snow-white. "I must go into the forest and guard my treasures from the wicked dwarfs. In winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they have to stay below, for they cannot burrow through it. But now that the sun has thawed and warmed the ground, they break through and come up to search and steal. Once something is in their hands and stored in their caves, it does not easily see the light of day again." Snow-white was very sad to say goodbye. As she unbolted the door for him and the bear squeezed through, he caught on the door hook, and a piece of his hide tore open. Snow-white thought she saw gold gleaming beneath it, but she could not be sure. The bear hurried away and soon vanished behind the trees.

Some time later, their mother sent the children into the forest to gather brushwood. They came upon a great tree lying felled on the ground, and beside its trunk something was jumping up and down in the grass, though they could not make out what it was. When they came closer, they saw a dwarf with an old, withered face and a snow-white beard a yard long. The end of his beard was caught in a cleft in the tree, and the little fellow was hopping to and fro like a small dog on a leash, not knowing how to free himself. He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and shouted, "Why are you standing there? Can't you come and help me?" "What have you been doing, little man?" asked Rose-red. "Stupid, inquisitive goose!" answered the dwarf. "I wanted to split the tree to get some small wood for the kitchen. Thick logs burn up the little food we need—we don't gobble down as much as you coarse, greedy creatures. I had driven the wedge in nicely, and everything would have gone as I wished, but the accursed bit of wood was too smooth and suddenly slipped out, and the tree closed up so quickly that I couldn't pull my beautiful white beard free. Now it's stuck, and I can't get away. And there you stand laughing, you silly, smooth-faced milksops! Fie, what nasty creatures you are!" The children tried as hard as they could, but they could not pull his beard free; it was caught too tightly. "I'll run and fetch someone," said Rose-red. "You crazy blockheads!" snarled the dwarf. "Why go calling other people? There are already two too many of you here. Can't you think of anything better?" "Don't be impatient," said Snow-white. "I'll find a way." She took her little scissors out of her pocket and cut off the end of his beard. As soon as the dwarf felt himself free, he seized a sack full of gold that lay among the roots of the tree, pulled it out, and muttered, "Ill-mannered creatures, cutting off a piece of my magnificent beard! May the devil reward you!" With that he slung his sack over his back and went away without so much as another glance at the children.

Some time after this, Snow-white and Rose-red went fishing to catch themselves a meal. As they drew near the brook, they saw something like a large grasshopper hopping towards the water as though about to jump in. They ran over and recognised the dwarf. "Where are you going?" said Rose-red. "Surely you don't mean to jump into the water?" "I'm not such a fool as that!" shouted the dwarf. "Can't you see that this accursed fish is trying to drag me in?" The little fellow had been sitting there fishing, and unfortunately the wind had tangled his beard in the line. When a large fish bit soon afterwards, the feeble creature had not the strength to pull it out. The fish had the upper hand and was dragging the dwarf towards it. He clutched at every blade of grass and every rush, but it did little good: he had to follow the fish's movements and was in constant danger of being pulled into the water. The girls arrived just in time, held him fast, and tried to untangle his beard from the line, but in vain: beard and line were hopelessly knotted together. There was nothing to do but bring out the little scissors and cut his beard, so that another small piece of it was lost. When the dwarf saw this, he screamed at them, "Is that any way to behave, you toads, disfiguring a fellow's face? It wasn't enough to trim the end of my beard—now you've cut off the best part of it! I daren't show myself among my own people. May you have to run till the soles fall off your shoes!" Then he fetched a sack of pearls lying among the reeds and, without another word, dragged it away and disappeared behind a rock.

Soon afterwards, their mother sent the two girls into town to buy thread, needles, cord, and ribbons. Their way led across a heath strewn here and there with great boulders. They saw a large bird hovering in the air, circling slowly above them, sinking lower and lower until at last it swooped down beside a rock not far away. A moment later they heard a piercing, pitiful cry. They ran over and saw to their horror that the eagle had seized their old acquaintance, the dwarf, and was about to carry him off. The kindhearted children caught hold of the little man at once and struggled with the eagle until it let go of its prey. When the dwarf had recovered from his first fright, he shrieked, "Couldn't you have handled me more gently? You've tugged at my thin little coat until it's torn to shreds and full of holes, you clumsy, witless rabble!" Then he picked up a sack of precious stones and slipped back beneath the rock into his cave. The girls were used to his ingratitude by now; they went on their way and did their errands in town. On their journey home, as they crossed the heath again, they came upon the dwarf by surprise. He had emptied his sack of precious stones onto a clear patch of ground, never thinking anyone would pass that way so late. The evening sun shone on the glittering stones, and they sparkled and gleamed so splendidly in every colour that the children stopped to admire them. "Why are you standing there gaping?" shouted the dwarf, his ashen face turning scarlet with rage. He was about to go on scolding when a loud growl was heard and a black bear came trotting out of the forest. The dwarf sprang up in terror, but he could no longer reach his hiding place: the bear was already upon him. In mortal fear he cried, "Dear Mr Bear, spare me! I will give you all my treasures. Look at the beautiful jewels lying there. Grant me my life! What would you want with a puny little fellow like me? You wouldn't even feel me between your teeth. There, seize those two wicked girls: they would make tender morsels for you, plump as young quails. Eat them, in God's name!" The bear paid no heed to his words, but struck the wicked creature a single blow with his paw, and it never moved again.

The girls had run away, but the bear called after them, "Snow-white and Rose-red, don't be afraid! Wait, I will come with you." They recognised his voice and stopped, and when the bear reached them, his bearskin suddenly fell away, and there stood a handsome man dressed all in gold. "I am a king's son," he said, "and the wicked dwarf, who stole my treasures, laid a curse on me, forcing me to roam the forest as a wild bear until his death should set me free. Now he has received the punishment he deserved."

Snow-white married him, and Rose-red married his brother, and they shared between them the great treasures the dwarf had gathered in his cave. Their old mother lived peacefully and happily with her children for many years. She brought the two rose trees with her, and they stood before her window, bearing the most beautiful roses every year, white and red.