MuchiShona
Paivepo. (Dzepfunde!) Gava rakanga rava nenguva refu richida kudya huku dzomumusha, asi Imbwa yaichengetedza musha yairamba yakasvinura. Gava harina kukwanisa kuswedera pedyo, saka rakafunga zano renhema.
Rimwe zuva, Gava rakapfeka jasi refu jena, rikatakura bhuku hombe, rikasunga bhero muhuro, ndokufamba richienda kudanga rehuku richirira bhero — ngerengende, ngerengende!
“Hama dzangu huku!” rakadaidzira Gava nezwi rakanaka. “Ndiri muparidzi ndauya nezvishamiso. Ndakadzidziswa kurapa zvirwere zvose, uye ndinoziva munamato unoita kuti huku dzikandire mazai egoridhe! Unganai muno mumba mangu musina mahwindo, ndikunamatirei mose.”
Huku duku dzakafara, dzikatanga kumhanyira mumba muya. Asi jongwe guru, rakanga rakura rakaona zvakawanda, rakambomira. Rakatarisa pasi — rikaona muswe wakapfava uchibuda napasi pejasi. Rakatarisa mumwe wemakumbo — rikaona nzara ndefu dzisiri dzehuku.
“Imbomirai, hama dzangu!” rakadaidzira jongwe. “Muparidzi uyu ngaatange atiratidza mazino ake, tione kuti anonamata sei!” Gava, risingafungi, rakashama muromo waro — uye mazino marefu anopinza akapenya pazuva.
“Gava! Gava! Inhema, iGava!” huku dzakaridza mhere, dzikabhururuka kumativi ose. Imbwa yakanzwa ruzha, ikauya ichimhanya nokuhukura kukuru. Gava rakarasa bhuku nebhero, rikatiza jasi richibhururuka mumhepo, Imbwa iri pamuswe waro.
Rakapunyuka napaburi rouzhowa, dumbu risina kana huku imwe chete, asi rakasiya chimedu chomuswe waro muzino reImbwa.
Kubva zuva iroro, huku hadzivimbi nomweni anouya achinyanya kutaura zvinotapira. Uye jongwe rikawana rukudzo rwokuva murindi wedanga, nokuti rakaona nhema dzakapfeka jasi jena.
Ndipo pakaperera sarungano.
In English
Paivepo — once upon a time. (Dzepfunde!) For a long while, Jackal had hungered after the hens of the village, but the Dog who guarded the homestead never once closed his eyes. Jackal could not get near — so he devised a plan built on lies.
One day Jackal dressed himself in a long white coat, carried a great book under his arm, hung a bell around his neck, and walked up to the fowl-run ringing the bell — ngerengende, ngerengende!
“My dear sisters, the hens!” Jackal called out in a honeyed voice. “I am a preacher, and I come bearing wonders. I have been trained to cure every disease, and I know a prayer that makes hens lay eggs of pure gold! Gather inside my windowless house, all of you, and I shall pray for you together.”
The young hens were delighted and began hurrying into the little house. But the old rooster, who had lived long and seen much, paused. He looked down — and saw a soft bushy tail peeping out beneath the coat. He looked at the stranger's feet — and saw long claws that never belonged to any bird.
“Wait, my sisters!” crowed the rooster. “Let this preacher first show us his teeth, so we may see how he prays!” Without thinking, Jackal opened his mouth wide — and long, sharp teeth flashed in the sun.
“Jackal! Jackal! It's a trick — it's Jackal!” shrieked the hens, scattering into the air in every direction. The Dog heard the uproar and came at a run, barking thunder. Jackal flung away his book and his bell and fled, the white coat flapping behind him and the Dog hard on his tail.
He escaped through a gap in the hedge with not a single hen in his belly — but he left a piece of his tail in the Dog's teeth.
From that day on, the hens have never trusted a stranger who arrives speaking words too sweet. And the rooster was honoured as the sentry of the fowl-run, because he had seen the lie beneath the white coat.
And there the storyteller's tale came to its end.