MuchiShona
Paivepo. (Dzepfunde!) Mumwe murume nomukadzi wake vaiva nevanasikana vatatu: Shamiso, Nyasha, naTarisai — gotwe ravo. Tarisai aidiwa nevose nokuda kwomoyo wake munyoro, uye ambuya vake vakanga vamupa chuma chitsvuku chinoyevedza chaakapfeka muhuro.
Vakoma vake vaviri vakamuitira godo. “Sei gotwe richipiwa chuma chakanaka kudai isu tisina?” vakanyunyuta. Godo rakakura mumoyo yavo serimwe pfumo.
Rimwe zuva, vasikana vatatu vakatumwa kunotsvaka nhungirwa musango. Vari kure nomusha, vakoma vaviri vakarova Tarisai, vakatora chuma chake, ndokumuviga pasi pomuti womuchakata. Vakadzoka kumusha vachichema misodzi yenhema, vachiti, “Tarisai akarasika musango! Tamutsvaka tikashaya!”
Musha wose wakatsvaka mazuva namazuva, ukashaya. Vabereki vakachema kusvikira meso avo aoma.
Zvino pamuchakata uya pakamera kashiri kaduku kane minhenga mitsvuku sechuma. Kashiri kakabhururuka kakasvika padare romusha, kakaimba nezwi rinorwadza moyo:
Ndakaurayiwa nevakoma vangu,
Nokuda kwechuma changu chitsvuku,
Ndivigwe pasi pomuchakata.
Baba chemai, amai chemai,
Ndipo pandiri, ndipo pandiri.
Vanhu vakashamisika. Shiri yakaimbazve rwiyo urwu pamberi pababa, pamberi pamai, pamberi paMambo. Vakoma vaviri pavakanzwa rwiyo, vakadedera, vakaedza kudzinga shiri — asi shiri yakaramba ichiimba, ichiimba, ichiimba.
Mambo akaraira kuti pacherwe pasi pomuchakata. Vakawana Tarisai nechuma chake chakabatwa muruoko rwevakoma vaviri musi wavakamuviga — uchapupu husingarambiki. Vakoma vakabvuma mhosva yavo pamberi pedare, vakatongwa nokudzingwa mumusha.
Uye vakuru vanoti kubva zuva iroro, kashiri kaya kakagara kachiimba mumuchakata — kuyeuchidza vanhu vose kuti hapana chakaipa chinogara chakavanzika nokusingaperi.
Ndipo pakaperera sarungano.
In English
Paivepo — once upon a time. (Dzepfunde!) A man and his wife had three daughters: Shamiso, Nyasha, and Tarisai, the lastborn. Tarisai was beloved by everyone for her gentle heart, and her grandmother had given her a string of beautiful red beads which she wore about her neck.
Her two elder sisters were consumed with jealousy. “Why should the lastborn be given such fine beads when we have none?” they grumbled. And jealousy grew in their hearts like a spear.
One day the three girls were sent to gather wild fruit in the forest. Far from home, the two elder sisters struck Tarisai down, took her beads, and buried her beneath a chakata tree. They returned home weeping false tears, crying, “Tarisai is lost in the forest! We searched and could not find her!”
The whole village searched for days upon days, and found nothing. The parents wept until their eyes ran dry.
Then, upon that chakata tree, there appeared a small bird with feathers as red as the beads. The little bird flew to the village meeting-place, the dare, and sang in a voice that pierced the heart:
I was slain by my own sisters,
All for my beads of red,
And buried beneath the chakata tree.
Weep, my father; weep, my mother —
There I lie, there I lie.
The people were struck with wonder. The bird sang its song before the father, before the mother, before the Chief himself. When the two sisters heard the song they trembled and tried to drive the bird away — but the bird sang on, and on, and on.
The Chief commanded that the earth beneath the chakata tree be dug. There they found Tarisai — and her red beads clutched in the hands of the two sisters from the day they had buried her: proof that could not be denied. The sisters confessed their crime before the dare and were judged and banished from the village.
And the elders say that from that day, the little bird has lived on in the chakata tree, singing still — to remind all people that no evil deed stays hidden forever.
And there the storyteller's tale came to its end.