Tricks of Madam Baba-Yaga. Сергей Чаров

Somewhere you’re on the move,

      And in such a simple matter your brain is removed.

      Let’s take an example:

      The King with the Queen made a visit.

      What did they take? Make it explicit.

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      Pickles-jams of all sorts, forest gifts.

      Cloud-granny.

      You are right.

      And what is the czardom full of for a gift?

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      Open pies, kulebiakas…

      Well, in general, fish pies are gifts.

      Cloud-granny.

      Exactly.

      And also they can take as a gift

      Their craftsmen’s masterpiece.

      King and Queen – clothes from their Tailor,

      And the Tsar with the Tsarina – shoes from their Shoemaker.

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      Oh! Now I understand why they feel so free

      To visit each other whenever they like and agree.

      How interesting they veiled the natural exchange!

      Cloud-granny.

      Finally understood! That’s it!

      As they say about us, «thick as thieves»,

      The same words are suitable for these people.

      Only Babe Yaga, this wild creature

      Can destroy this idyllic picture.

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      And maybe she will not come here at all,

      As she had never been to this part of the world.

      Cloud-granny.

      Unlikely.

      Very few places remain on the ground,

      Where her face was never found.

      And besides, she has an eye for the kindness,

      If there’s no evil, she always does not like this.

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      And how many misfortunes does she bring to people?

      Cloud-granny.

      Case by case, because all people are different

      And the ideas of life are so wide:

      Where some people could laugh – others cried.

      Desires and aspirations are also different,

      In dreams, someone imagines a gray horse, and someone – red,

      But who is grateful for what he has —

      Their consciousness Baba-yaga will never possess.

      Only in life of people sold on money-possession,

      She takes frequent participation.

      There are still, the moments for many around,

      When Baba-yaga is wandering the nearby ground.

      To surrender to her magic…

      But this has no end, no start – it is tragic

      (Listens.)

      From a distance, the sound of the flight of Baba-yaga grows.

      Cloud-granny. (against the background of the sound of passing Baba-yaga).

      Ah… What did I say! Do you hear?

      Speak of the devil and he will appear!

      Baba-yaga landed somewhere.

      Cloud-granny.

      Yes… It’s unlucky for the locals today,

      Soon the problems will appear on their way.

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      I wonder, what do you think, who is the first

      With whom will the disaster start to burst?

      Cloud-granny.

      Quite possibly, with the King.

      He always gets up with the first sunbeam.

      Cloud-granddaughter.

      I know. He is precise like clock,

      Every day at dawn he goes for a walk.

      The King (coming from the palace, singing).

      Someone likes the evening darkness, another likes day light,

      Someone likes to wander through alleys at night.

      For me the best thing in the world – to leave in early morning,

      To meet the sunrise, the awakening of the world.

      Leave my footprint on the dewy grass,

      As I, barefoot, through my land pass,

      And listen as the sounds bound,

      And see the joy that reigns around,

      And fills my heart.

      (He speaks against the background of the disappearing music.)

      Eh! Well, how nice it’s to live in this world!

      Only the sun today too brightly shines.

      It has been raining for some time, and now it’s hot,

      How hot will be further, if even now there’s no cold spot!

      It’s time to rush into the river

      And swim there until evening.

      I’d like to drink something…

      (He saw a jar of compote.)

      Oh! How nice that we left the compote here yesterday.

      (He drinks.)

      How skillful my Queen is —

      A simple compote, but like nectar it seems!

      (He drank it, put the jar onto its place, became thoughtful.)

      May be… Indeed to call my wife

      And go swimming with her and in the sun to lie.

      Only in shallow water, where she chooses the place,

      Always I’m bored with the limited space!

      Oh… If only my beauty could swim…

      We’d have so much fun, didn’t prim.

      Who is faster we would like to peep

      And would dive into depth from the steep.

      May be, I’m a bad teacher with no strain,

      I educated, and trained her, all in vain.

      Neither breaststroke she can swim, nor the crawl…

      And butterfly stroke all the more.

      At first, she showed some kind of interest,

      And then this wish was gone for some reason.

      Though, maybe she’s just shy,

      That