Bilingual (Dual-Language) Books

Bilingual (Dual-Language) Parallel-text Books
Current Languages: English French Spanish German Italian Russian

Digital books available through Amazon, Google Play, iBookstore, Barnes & Noble (Nook), etc.

Print books also available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Ingram, NACSCORP, Baker & Taylor, CreateSpace Direct, etc.

Nik Marcel (2Language Books)

Sunday, 1 December 2013

Brothers Grimm Vol.2 (English)

Brothers Grimm Vol 2
Brüder Grimm Vol 2

English partly translated anew from German.
Copyright © 2013 Nik Marcel
All rights reserved.
2Language Books
(A Bilingual Dual-Language Project)

Brothers Grimm Volume 2

Cat and Mouse in Partnership

A certain cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had said so much to her about the great love and friendship she felt for her, that in the end the mouse agreed to stay in her house and live communally together.
“But we must make provisions for winter, or else we shall suffer from hunger,” said the cat; “and you, little mouse, cannot venture out just anywhere, or you will end up in a trap.”
The good advice was followed, and they bought a pot of fat.
However, they did not know where to put it. Finally, after much consideration, the cat said, “I know no place where it will be better stored than in the church, for no one dares take anything away from there. We will put it beneath the altar, and not touch it until we are really in need of it.”
So the pot was placed in safety, but it was not long before the cat had a great longing for it, and said to the mouse, “I want to tell you something, little mouse. My cousin has asked me to be godmother; she has brought a little son into the world. He is white with brown spots, and I am to hold him at the christening.
Let me go out today, and you look after the house by yourself.”
“Yes, yes,” answered the mouse, “in God’s name, go; if you eat something good, think of me. I would also like a drop of the sweet red christening wine.”
All this, however, was not true: the cat did not have a cousin, and had not been asked to be godmother.
She went straight to the church, slunk over to the pot of fat, began to lick at it, and licked the top of the fat off.
Afterwards, she took a walk upon the roofs of the town, looking out for opportunities, and then stretched out in the sun, wiping her whiskers whenever she thought of the pot of fat.
Only when it was evening did she return home.
“Well, here you are again,” said the mouse; “you have no doubt had a nice day.”
“All went well,” answered the cat.
“What name did they give the child?” asked the mouse.
“Top-off!” said the cat quite coolly.
“Top-off!” cried the mouse. “That is a queer and curious name. Is it a common one in your family?”
“What does it matter,” said the cat; “it is no worse than Crumb-thief, as your godchildren are called.”
It was not long before the cat was seized by another bout of lust.
She said to the mouse, “You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house by yourself. I have again been asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a white ring around its neck, I cannot refuse.”
The good mouse consented, but the cat crept behind the town walls, went to the church, and devoured half the pot of fat.
“Nothing ever tastes better,” she said, “than what one eats all by oneself;” and she was quite satisfied with her day’s work.
When she returned home, the mouse inquired, “What name was this child christened with?”
“Half-done,” answered the cat.
“Half-done! Is that what you said?! I have never heard that name in all my life. I bet it is not found in the calendar!”
The cat’s mouth soon began to water for some more of the tasty work.
“All good things come in threes,” she said to the mouse; “I am asked to be godmother again. The child is quite black, only it has white paws. With that exception, it has no white hair on its whole body, which only happens once every few years. You will let me go, won’t you?”
“Top-off! Half-done!” answered the mouse. “They are such curious names; they make me very thoughtful.”
“You sit at home in your dark-grey fur coat and long tail,” said the cat, “and are filled with ideas. That is what happens when you do not go out during the day.”
The mouse cleaned during the cat’s absence, and brought the house into order, while the greedy cat ate the pot of fat all up.
“When everything is eaten up one has some peace,” she said to herself, and well filled and fat, she did not return home until night.
The mouse immediately asked what name the third child had been given.
“You will probably not like it,” said the cat. “He is called All-gone.”
“All-gone!” cried the mouse. “That is the most worrisome name of all! I have never seen it occur in print. All-gone! What does that mean?”
She shook her head, curled herself up, and went to sleep.
From then on, no one asked the cat to be godmother; but when winter approached, and there was nothing more to be found outside, the mouse thought of their stored food, and said, “Come on, cat, we will go to our pot of fat that we have stored up for ourselves; it will taste good to us now.”
“Yes, indeed,” answered the cat; “you will enjoy it as much as you would enjoy stretching your dainty tongue out the window.”
They set out on their way, and when they arrived, they found that the pot of fat was indeed still in its place, but it was empty.
“Ah!” said the mouse. “Now I see what has happened; now it has dawned on me! You are a true friend! You have devoured everything when you stood in as godmother. First top off, then half done, then…”
“Will you be quiet,” cried the cat; “one word more, and I will eat you too.”
‘All gone’ was already on the tip of the poor mouse’s tongue; it was hardly out before the cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down.
This is the way of the world, you see.

Our Lady’s Child

Near a great forest lived a woodcutter with his wife, who had only one child: a little girl three years old.
They were, however, so poor that they could no longer earn their daily bread, and did not know what to give her to eat.
One morning, the woodcutter went out sorrowfully into the forest to do his work, and while he was cutting wood, suddenly there stood a tall and beautiful woman before him. She had a crown of shining stars on her head, and said to him, “I am the Virgin Mary, mother of the Christ child. You are poor and needy; bring me your child; I will take her with me, be her mother, and care for her.”
The woodcutter obeyed: he brought his child, and gave her to the Virgin Mary, who took her up to heaven with her.
There the child fared well: she ate sweet bread, drank sweet milk, her clothes were made of gold, and the little angels played with her.
And when she was fourteen years of age, the Virgin Mary called her one day and said, “Dear child, I have to go on a long journey, so take the keys to the thirteen doors of the kingdom of heaven for safekeeping.
You may open twelve of these, and look at the splendours they contain, but the thirteenth, which this little key belongs to, is forbidden to you. Make sure you do not open it, otherwise you will become miserable.”
The girl promised to be obedient, and when the Virgin Mary was gone, she began to examine the abodes of the kingdom of heaven. Every day she opened one, until the twelfth one came round.
In each of them sat one of the Apostles, who was surrounded by a great light; and she rejoiced in all the magnificence and splendour, and the angels — who always accompanied her — rejoiced with her.
Only the forbidden door remained, and she felt a great desire to know what could be hidden behind it, and so said to the little angels, “I will not quite open it, and I will not go inside it, but I will unlock it so that we can just see a little through the opening.”
“Oh no,” said the little angels, “that would be a sin. The Virgin Mary has forbidden it, and it might easily cause you misfortune.”
Then she was silent, but the desire in her heart was not silenced; rather, it gnawed and pecked away at her disciplined mind, and gave her no peace.
And when the angels had all gone out, she thought, “Now I am quite alone, and I could have a peep. No one would know if I do it.”
She sought out the key, and when she had it in her hand, she put it in the lock; and when she had put it in, she also turned it around.
Then the door sprang open, and she saw the Trinity, sitting there in fire and splendour.
She stayed there for a while, and looked at everything in amazement; then she touched the radiance a little with her finger, and her finger became quite golden.
She immediately felt a great fear, slammed the door violently, and ran away.
However, her fear did not want to go away, no matter what she tried to do; and her heart kept pounding and would not be quiet. What is more, the gold stayed on her finger, and would not go away, no matter how much she washed and rubbed it.
It was not long before the Virgin Mary came back from her journey.
She called the girl before her, and asked to have the keys of heaven back.
When the maiden gave her the bunch of keys, the Virgin looked into her eyes and said, “Have you not opened the thirteenth door also?”
“No,” she replied.
Then she laid her hand on the girl’s heart, and felt how it beat and beat, and was well aware that she had disobeyed her order and had opened the door.
Then she said once again, “Are you certain that you have not done it?”
“No,” said the girl, for the second time.
Then she saw the finger that had become golden from touching the fire of heaven, and saw plainly that the child had sinned, and said for the third time, “Have you not done it?”
“No,” said the girl for the third time.
Then the Virgin Mary said, “You have not obeyed me, and you have also lied; you are no longer worthy of being in heaven.”
The girl then fell into a deep sleep, and when she awoke, she was lying on the ground, in the middle of the wilderness.
She wanted to cry out, but she could bring forth no sound.
She jumped up and wanted to run away, but whichever way she turned, thick hedges of thorns held her back — she could not break through.
In the desert in which she was imprisoned, there stood an old hollow tree, and this had to be her abode.
When night came, she crept into it and feel asleep. When it stormed and rained, she also found shelter there, but it was a miserable existence. When she remembered how beautiful it had been in heaven, and how the angels had played with her, she wept bitterly.
Roots and wild berries were her only food, and she sought these as far as she could go.
In the autumn, she picked up the fallen nuts and leaves, and carried them into the hole. The nuts were her food in winter, and when snow and ice came, she crept amongst the leaves like a poor little animal, so that she might not freeze.
It was not long before her clothes were all torn; and they fell off her, one piece after another.
As soon as the warm sun shone again, she went out and sat in front of the tree; and her long hair covered her on all sides like a cloak.
She sat like this, one year after another, and felt the pain and misery of the world.

End of Preview

No comments:

Post a Comment