Tale of the: Old Hunter and the Golden Hare [In SPANISH and English now]
There once lived an old man and his goodwife
On the edge of the thick of the woods;
They lived in an old run-down shack
For forty-years and some.
The old man hunted for his living,
And his wife sewed on her lap.
He once was hunting in the woods,
The marshes were high with game
When the waters rise, many animals die
And he thought (as always), 'Such a shame.'
Well, this day he saw a Golden Hare,
'No common hare,' thought he.
Stranded on a mud bare little isle
So he quickly grabbed the hare by the ears,
To save it, if you please.
Now the Golden Hare started to examine him,
And it spoke like a human being:
"Let me go, old man, back in the woods-
I will give you most anything!"
The old man was surprised and scared,
For he had never heard of a hare talking.
So gently by its ears, he put the hare down
And kindly said, as he did so:
"God be with you, my lovely little Golden Hare!
And thank you-but I want for noththing;
Go back to your home in the woods,
And roam free as you normally would."
But the hare stood stone-still, shaking,
Too weak was she-I'll have you know-:
Thus, into his sack, the old man put her
And brought her back to his home.
There he dried the hare, gave her food,
And said: "Now go-before night!"
And thus, the hare was gone for good.
To his wife, the old hunter was cautious
To tell her about the talking, Golden Hare,
And so he explained: "I caught this hare
Stranded, and thought to set her free-
Whereupon, she promised me, most anything;
But like a good Christian, I simply said
'God be with you? [and] I need nothing.'
Thereupon, his wife reprimanded her husband:
"You old fool?you big stupid man!
You might have asked for a sewing machine!
Now go find the hare and ask!"
The old man turned to the woods,
Where the morning was flickering with light.
And off he went, calling out to the Golden Hare.
And the Golden Hare appeared, behind a bush,
"What is it, old man, what is your wish?"
With his eyes cast down, the old man answered:
"I am sad to say, Most Beautify Hare~!
But my old woman scorned me utterly-
Bothers me every second of the day,
She says she wants a sewing machine."
The Golden Hare mumbled in reply:
"So be it, go home old man, be at peace,
For your wife will soon have it."
And behold, when the old man arrived home,
His wife was laughing, by a sewing machine.
But she screamed at her husband evermore:
"You silly old man, go back and ask for a farmhouse!"
And again he went back to the woods,
But this time the rain was pouring,
He called out to the Golden Hare,
And the Golden Hare appeared again, saying:
"Now what is it old man, what is your wish?"
"It never ends; forgive me, but my wife?
Now wants a farmhouse."
The Golden Hare mumbled in answer:
"As you desire, go home and you'll have it~!"
And when he arrived back home,
His shack was replaced by a farmhouse.
Oh yes, even with a huge towering silo.
And there sat his old wife by the window.
But the old woman was still hungry with greed
Told her husband, "Go back and ask for money!
Perhaps a ton of gold, she will give to you!"
And the old hunter did as she asked,
Hollered out for the Golden Hare to appear
And although the hare appeared, said nothing,
She listened angrily as the old man begged:
"Forgiven me of my wife's greed, but now she Wants a ton of gold, or just a lot of money."
The hare just whoosh its golden ears
And vanished back into the woods.
When the husband arrived back home-
Behold, his old wife was like before,
Sitting by their old broken down shack
Sewing an old shirt, on her lap, bored.
#769 7/11/05
IN SPANISH
Translated by Nancy Peñaloza
Cuento del: cazador anciano
Y la liebre de oro
Por Dennis L. Siluk
Allí una vez vivía un viejo hombre y su buena esposa
En el borde de la espesura del bosque;
Ellos Vivian en una vieja choza
Por cuarenta años y algo.
El anciano cazaba para su vida
Y su esposa cosía sobre su regazo.
El una vez estaba cazando en el bosque,
Los pantanos eran altos con juego
Cuando el agua creció, muchos animales murieron
Y el pensó (como siempre) "que vergüenza".
Bien, ese día el vio una liebre de oro,
"rara liebre" pensó él.
Varado sobre el barro desnudo de la pequeña isla
Así, el rápidamente agarro a la liebre por las orejas,
Para salvarla, si te parece.
Ahora la liebre de oro empezó a examinarlo,
Y le habló como un ser humano:
"¡déjame ir, anciano, de regreso al bosque-
Yo te daré algo, mas!
El anciano estaba sorprendido y asustado.
Porque el nunca había oído de una liebre que hablaba.
Tan gentilmente por sus orejas, el dejo la liebre
Y amablemente dijo, ¿como hizo él eso?:
"¡Dios este contigo, mi amada pequeña liebre de oro
Y gracias - pero, yo no quiero nada;
Regresa a tu casa en el bosque,
Y vaga libre como normalmente tu puedas!".
Pero la liebre aun permaneció parada como piedra, sacudiéndose
Demasiado débil estaba ella- te haré saber:
Más, dentro de su saco, el anciano la puso
y la llevó de regreso a su casa.
Allí el secó a la liebre, le dio comida,
Y le dijo: "¡ahora vete- antes que anochezca!"
Y así, la liebre se fue para siempre.
Para su esposa, el anciano cazador fue cauteloso
Para decirle acerca de la hablante, liebre de oro
Entonces el explicó "Cogí esta liebre varada y pensé
Ponerla en libertad- por lo cual ella me prometió algo más;
Pero como buen cristiano simplemente dije.
"Dios este contigo?.y no necesito nada"
Con eso, la esposa reprendió a su marido
"¡tú viejo tonto?.tu hombre grande entupido"
"¡Pudiste haber pedido una máquina de coser!"
"Ahora vaya a buscar la liebre y pida"
El anciano regresó al bosque,
Donde la mañana Recién parpadeaba luz.
Y él fue llamando a la liebre de oro
Y la liebre de oro apareció detrás de un arbusto
¿Que es eso anciano? ¿Cuál es tu deseo?
Con sus ojos destrozados el anciano contestó:
"¡Estoy muy triste para decir muy bella liebre!
Pero mi vieja me despreció completamente-
Me molesta cada segundo del día
Ella dice que quiere una maquina de coser!"
La liebre dorada masculló
La respuesta "vete a casa en paz anciano
Por que Tu esposa pronto lo tendrá"
Y contemplo, cuando el anciano llegó a casa,
Su esposa estaba riéndose, Por una maquina de coser.
Pero ella Le grito a su esposo cada vez mas
"¡Tú anciano tonto, vuelve y pide
una granja!"
Y otra vez el anciano volvió a los bosques,
Pero esta vez la lluvia estaba fluyendo,
El llamó fuerte a la liebre de oro
Y la liebre de oro apareció otra vez diciendo:
¿Y ahora que anciano cual es tu deseo? .
"Esto nunca se termina perdóneme, pero mi esposa
Ahora quiere una granja".
La liebre de oro mascullaba la respuesta
"¡Como tu . Deseo, ve a casa y lo tendrás!"
Y cuando él regresó a su casa,
Su choza fue substituida por una granja.
Oh si, hasta con un enorme silo altísimo.
Y allí se sentó a su vieja esposa por la ventana.
¡Pero la anciana todavía tenía el hambre con la avaricia
Dijo a su marido, " Vuelve y pide el dinero!
¡Quizás una tonelada de oro, ella te lo dará! "
Y el viejo cazador hizo como ella preguntó pidió,
Gritando alto para que la Liebre De oro apareciera
Y aunque la liebre apareció, no dijo nada,
Ella escuchó con ira como el anciano rogó:
"Perdóneme la avaricia de mi esposa, pero ahora ella
Quiera una tonelada de oro, o justo una cantidad de dinero"
"La liebre justo whoosh orejas de oro
Y desapareció dentro del bosque.
Cuando el marido regresó a casa -
Contemplan, su vieja esposa estaba como antes,
Sentada por su vieja choza.
Cosiendo una vieja camisa, sobre su regazo, aburrido.
*769 7/11/05
Poet/Author Dennis Siluk http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
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Choices
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Bleed
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I shake my fist and say: '?show me! But no one does'So alive, so brave, with strong and hungry hearts;I say, show me one that sings in poverty and smilesProve me one that celebrates year-round of its heroesShow me painters that are as good-that sell on streets-As good as: Picasso, Dali, Rembrandt, and Yang YangAnd that welcomes the world with stretched out arms-Show me all this, or some of this, and I will say no moreWith this,I descend to its streets, its crowed winding streetsAs well as, to its neighborhoods with dust and soiled air,And hear the laughs of the children; the dogs on roofsSights of the shoe-shiners: men and boys, in the parksAnd the numerous food carts; -- musicians, paper sellersAnd with its naked featherless wings, covering all-My Lima, Peru with its renowned Cathedral:Golden yellow with towering crowns, andWithin its plaza-square, a water fountain-celebrated.Under its sins, with its wrinkled aged men, lovely women,They all stand tall and bow to its Inca history, its glory-Its world that once ruled all, like the Roman Empire,Like the American Dream, they were the noble, the kingsAnd now, from drudgery and toil, sweat and strive, all, all Grinding, grinding away, each and everyday, lover of the, King of Kings: Jesus Christ-this is the Lima I know today; a mighty ship that has already sailed the seven seas, now resting!?Spanish VersionLima,La ciudad con las alas extendidasTranslated by Rosa PeñalozaEsta es una noche oscura: no estrellas, ni luna a la vistaSolo puntos: rojo, verde y blanco-luces blancasMientras que el avión desciende, desciende, bajandoA la larga-extendida-plana persistente ciudad de luces Plana como un panqueque, encendida como un árbol de navidad-La despierta ciudad, con sus alas extendidasExtendidas desde las montañas hacia el océanoZigzagueante a través de los valles, bosques y riachuelosEstirando, estirando sus alas desnudas-interminablesMientras,Voy descendiendo, abajo, por encima y alrededor de la ciudad(Descendiendo, descendiendo, y deslizándose a la tierra)La ciudad con las alas extendidas-y luces interminablesAbajo, Abajo, detrás, alrededor, la tierra, es inmune a míSólo soy parte de esta noche, un bautizado en su oscuro océanoInvisible: gente, gatos, perros, pájaros, y ratas, infinidadIncontables: puntos, riachuelos de luz, puntos de luz; Gente: caminando, conversando, durmiendo, comiendo bajo los puntos de luzGente: esperando, matando, robando, rezando bajo los puntos de luzPor mañana, mañana y otro mañanaEllos dicen--:Tu eres implacable, y yo se que esto es verdadY ellos me dicen tú tienes ladrones, y muertes-Y esto, me atrevo a decir, que esto también es cierto, muy ciertoPero muéstrame una ciudad de ocho millones contraria --?Sacudo mis puños y digo: "?muéstrame," pero nadie lo haceTan viva, tan valerosa, con corazones fuertes y hambrientos:Digo, muéstrame una que canta en pobreza, y sonríePruébame una como esa, que celebra alrededor del año a sus héroesMuéstrame pintores tan buenos-que venden en las calles-Tan buenos como: Picasso, Dali, Rembrant y Yang YangY que recibe al mundo con extendidos brazosMuéstrame todo esto, o algo de esto, y no diré masCon esto,Desciendo a sus calles, atiborrada, zigzagueantes callesAsí como su raro vecindario con polvo en el aireY oigo la risa de los niños, los perros en los techosVista de los lustrabotas, hombres y muchachos, en los parquesY los numerosos carros de comida, músicos y vendedores de periódicosY con su desnuda y desplumadas alas, cubriendo todo-Mi Lima, Perú, con su renombrada catedral:Amarilla dorada con su coronadas torres, yDentro de su plaza cuadrada, una celebrada piletaBajo su piel, con sus arrugados ancianos, tiernas mujeres,Todos ellos parados altos, y reverenciando a su historia inca, sugloria-Su mundo que una vez gobernó todo, como el Imperio RomanoComo el sueño de América, ellos fueron los nobles, los reyesY ahora de pesadez, y esfuerzo, sudor, lucha, todos, todos extenuados, fatigados, este y cada día, amantes delRey de los Reyes: Jesucristo-esta es la Lima que conozco, hoy; un poderoso barco que ya navegó los siete mares, ahora descansando?Author/Poet Dennis Siluk, web site: http://dennissiluk.
