MuchiShona
Paivepo. (Dzepfunde!) Tsuro yaizivikanwa nesango rose nokumhanya kwayo. Yaizvikudza mazuva ose ichiti, “Hapana angandikunda pakumhanya! Ndini shasha yenyika yose.”
Rimwe zuva, Kamba, mhuka inofamba zvinyoronyoro kupfuura dzose, yakaneta nokuzvikudza kwaTsuro. Yakati, “Tsuro, ndinokukoka kumujaho. Tichamhanya kubva pano kusvika pagomo riya riri mhiri kworuware.”
Tsuro yakaseka kusvikira yabata dumbu. “Iwe, Kamba? Kumhanya neni? Unofamba sechirimo chinouya! Asi zvakanaka — ndichakupa mukana wokuti sango rose rione kuti ndini mambo wokumhanya.”
Mhuka dzose dzesango dzakaungana kuzoona mujaho. Hohodza yakarira hwamanda, mujaho ukatanga. Tsuro yakabhururuka semhepo, ikasiya Kamba kure shure kwayo. Payakasvika pakati penzira, yakacheuka — Kamba yakanga isingaonekwi kunyange nokure.
“Regai ndimbozorora zvishoma,” yakafunga Tsuro. “Kunyange ndikarara hope, Kamba haangatombosviki pano manheru ano.” Yakarara pasi pomumvuri womuchakata, mhepo inotonhorera ikaivaraidza, hope dzikaitora.
Kamba haina kumbomira. Nhanho imwe neimwe, zuva richipisa, yakaramba ichienda mberi. Yakapfuura Tsuro yakarara, ikaramba ichifamba, ichifamba, ichifamba.
Tsuro yakazopepuka zuva rava kuvira. Yakamhanya nesimba rayo rose, asi payakasvika pagomo, mhuka dzose dzakanga dzichipururudza. Kamba yakanga yatosvika. Yakamira pamusoro pegomo, ichinyemwerera zvinyoronyoro.
“Wakundwa sei, shasha?” dzakabvunza mhuka. Tsuro yakarereka musoro nenyadzi. Kamba yakati, “Handina kumhanya kupfuura Tsuro. Ndakangoramba ndichifamba, ndisingamiri, ndisingazvikudzi.”
Ndipo pakaperera sarungano.
In English
Paivepo — once upon a time. (Dzepfunde!) Hare was famous throughout the bush for his speed. Every day he boasted, “No creature alive can beat me in a race! I am the champion of the whole land.”
One day Tortoise — the slowest walker of all the animals — grew tired of Hare's boasting. She said, “Hare, I challenge you to a race. We shall run from here to that hill beyond the great rock.”
Hare laughed until he clutched his belly. “You, Tortoise? Race me? You move like the coming of a new season! But very well — I shall give you your chance, so all the bush may see that I am the king of running.”
All the animals gathered to watch. The horn sounded, and the race began. Hare shot away like the wind, leaving Tortoise far behind. Halfway along the path he glanced back — Tortoise could not be seen, even in the distance.
“Let me rest a little,” thought Hare. “Even if I sleep, Tortoise will not reach this place by nightfall.” He lay down in the shade of a chakata tree, and the cool breeze soothed him, and sleep carried him away.
Tortoise never stopped. Step by step, under the burning sun, she kept on. She passed the sleeping Hare and walked on, and on, and on.
Hare awoke as the sun was setting. He ran with all his strength — but when he reached the hill, the animals were already ululating. Tortoise had arrived. She stood at the top of the hill, smiling quietly.
“How were you beaten, champion?” the animals asked. Hare hung his head in shame. Tortoise said, “I did not run faster than Hare. I simply kept going — without stopping, and without boasting.”
And there the storyteller's tale came to its end.