JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF WISDOM
Once upon a time alone a little boy under the cover of a dark moonless night, he complained: “Mom, you know: this night bothers me so much!” A pure soul little man craved sunlight and hard to endure even a short summer night.
Time passed. The boy, like all people on earth, stopped paying attention to the night, or maybe just stopped talking about it ... He learned to make long mysterious journeys alone, desperately ride a motorcycle, go on big night fishing trips. And when he entered into independent life, fate threw him ashore for a long time Pacific Ocean. And it was so in keeping with the spirit of his favorite characters from the books of Melville and Jack London, Stevenson and Jules Verne, Hemingway and Edgar Allan Poe.
Rejection night darkness did not go away, but it became conscious and required creative reflection. This is how the pages of this book began to be born, in which the most important foundations are considered human being. And one of them: each person must make a choice between Good and Evil. But in our hard time it is even more difficult for a person to carry the torch of Light than in old days. No wonder the world we live in is called black.
I'm not talking about beautiful world Nature, which is magnificently arranged by the Creator, but about the world that exists in the homes and families of people, on our streets and in our institutions - the world that adult unreasonable people have created and are creating. It's about that people to this day have not learned to live according to the Commandments of the Creator. And these Testaments are reminded to us by Poets and Writers, Artists and Musicians. It also reminds me of a boy who, when he grew up, wrote this fairy tale about Alya and Alya.
When we read this tale, we see very well that those who aspire to the Light are supported by the eternal forces that create everything in the world. With his courage and energy, his irresistible desire to fight Darkness and Evil, each person strengthens the most important foundations of Life and wins the right to be Happy.
Each generation of people must discover this Wisdom of life. Each generation of those entering life touches this Wisdom in fairy tales. That's why any folk tale is philosophical, philosophical means Wise. The tales written by the Great Masters are also philosophical: such are the tales of Kipling and Hoffmann, Hauff and Maeterlinck, Ch. Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, Andersen and Lagerlöf, Odoevsky, Pushkin and Aksakov, J. Rodari and Selten, Alexander Volkov and Tove Jansson.
The favorite fairy tale of the author of this book was the fairy tale about the Hobbit, who, in the company of grumpy gnomes, reluctantly leaves the house and embarks on the path of fighting Evil. Gourmand and homebody, the Hobbit is by nature kind and completely disinterested. And therefore only he is destined for the fate of the Great Burglar - he is given an amazing opportunity to open the locks in the doors through which the heroes of the fairy tale of the English scientist, philosopher, writer John Ronald Reuel Tolkien go to victories. But this book about the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins will come later, much later, when the last pages about Alya and Alya. Each Person has His book, and it will surely come to him, but only at the appointed hour.
And when the fairy tale about Alya and Alya asked for paper, the boy, who did not like the night, had already grown into a twenty-year-old youth. And now he is already thirty-three years old, and he has two charming little daughters - Nastenka and Dashenka, who are looking forward to the release of this book. Because their dad had never told them about her before. And their grandmother told them about this, who once helped dad invent heroes - the stork Polyphilia, the swallow Linda, the Old Lamplighter, the parrot Diderot, the Organist and the Artist, the rooster Gorlastik, the girl Yulia, the mouse Pinya, the dolphin Graham, the spider Karakur, Shaggy. and the octopus Volosil, the owl Brynza, her son - Prince Zaika and the Keeper of Time. Everything is born into the world when the Time of Birth comes. Everything is waiting in the wings. Apparently, the hour has struck so that we can all read the tale about Alya and Alya.
Life and fairy tale are always near. So it is now: the parrot Diderot has been living in the house of Nastenka and Dashenka for the second year. And now Diderot has a girlfriend Fedor. They are very wise birds. They like to fly out of the cage at night and nest on the petals of a beautiful chandelier in the children's room. They are there for a long time whispering about something, and then muttering something and even shouting. Then they sing their poignant songs, and these songs touch a nerve. Dad has been listening to them for a long time. Everyone in the house knows that only one dad understands their language. And maybe someday he will tell us about what the parrots tell him. Probably, it will be a story that played out a very long time ago somewhere in Australia, or maybe on the shores of New Zealand. There is an assumption that the pope once lived in these distant lands. And of course, it will be a very interesting story.
XX. SON ALI
The girl fell asleep in the lighthouse. And she dreamed that she was standing on the edge of a cliff near the Lighthouse. In her hands was the Old Lamplighter's Torch. Alya looked up and was very surprised: the starry sky was nearby. It seemed as if you could only reach out your hand and touch the star.
Directly above the girl flashed two stars. Alya looked at them for a long time and could no longer understand: whether they were stars, or someone's bottomless eyes. A dazzling cosmic ray slid towards her from the stars. In the beam, an endless celestial staircase flashed. Alya stepped onto the stairs and took the first step. And then Paradox Dog appeared before her. He stepped straight out of space. In his eyes, the girl saw the abyss. She thought that she could easily drown in this abyss. Paradox looked at Alya, and her Torch shone with new force. Alya jumped up and flew towards the stars with the Torch in her hands. Paradox the Dog floated noiselessly beside her. Music rushed towards them, and the gentle calm look of the Dog seemed to inspire: "Do not be afraid, girl."
With all her being, Alya comprehended the laws of flight, and she did not notice how her companion dissolved. Maybe the Paradox disappeared when she was on a beam of light piercing through space. And rushed at the speed of light? This almost imperceptible flight filled her whole being with unspeakable joy.
Carried by the beam, Alya found herself outside the universe. From here the paths of all the luminaries were clearly visible, and they themselves celestial bodies looked like transparent glass stars. The universe pulsated, and its rhythms resembled musical ones: the girl heard harmonic music celestial spheres. From everything she saw and heard, the girl laughed - and the whole Universe laughed joyfully with her! And at that moment Alya saw native land, the City of Great Lanterns, the Black Cloud over the City and Al, sailing through the raging ocean on the blue Dolphin Graham. And not far from the Lighthouse, in a ruined house, the petrified Organist behind his organ was clearly visible. And in the labyrinths of the Underworld, Alya saw the townspeople entangled in the gloomy dungeons, and the owl Brynza at the head of an innumerable army of bats. Suddenly, the Black Cloud parted, and countless rays of stars rushed towards the City from all sides. Their light streamed lightly and irresistibly, and this festive radiance filled everything around.
And then Parrot Diderot spoke:
Not everything that dreams is a dream!
What did you say, Diderot? Alya asked, struck by this thought. - Not everything that dreams is a dream? She looked once more at the flaming Torch and, falling asleep again, whispered:
Not everything that is dreamed is a dream.
UNDERGROUND KINGDOM OF OWL BRYNZA
I. UNDERGROUND
The entrance to the Underworld began under the Old Tower. Gradually it became wider and broke up into many labyrinths. Long ago, the inhabitants of the City of Great Lanterns dug through these labyrinths. There is a legend that a magical treasure is hidden under the ruins of the Tower. IN different times legends pushed numerous adventurers in search of treasure. But, in the end, everyone got tired of digging up the earth in vain, and people abandoned their fruitless search. Since then, the townspeople avoided appearing at the old ruins. It was rumored that it was unclean there: on rainy nights, someone's groans come from the ground, and ghosts lurk in the dungeons of the Tower.
Before her appearance in the Dungeon, the owl Brynza lived in the forest near the City of Big Lanterns and fed on toads, bugs and slugs. But sometimes the owl managed to find tasty in the city dump, and then she had a real feast.
Once, having flown into the outskirts of the city at dusk, an owl dragged a piece of cheese in one house. But people noticed the thief and shouted after him:
The owl stole the cheese! Bryn-for ... Bryn-for ...
The owl really liked the militant word "brynza". And she appropriated it to herself, calling herself the owl Brynza.
More than anything, the owl Brynza hated daylight. The light pursued her: catching up and blinding, penetrating into the deepest hollows of the trees, where the owl hid for a day.
One day, fleeing from the approaching day, the owl Brynza flew into the dungeons of the Old Tower. She liked the eternal darkness of abandoned caves. And Brynza settled under the Old Tower.
At first, in search of food, the Brynza owl flew out at night to the surface of the earth, until it found entire settlements of bats in the depths of underground caves. The last discovery terribly pleased the ever-hungry owl. “I will become their mistress,” Brynza decided, “then you won’t have to hunt every day: the bats come to me for dinner."
And, carrying out her insidious plan, Brynza began to exterminate bats in huge quantities. The poor mice lost all peace, and at the mere recollection of a voracious owl came to indescribable horror. Soon, utterly intimidated, they decided that it couldn’t be worse than it was and recognized the owl-robber as their mistress. On the same day, the inhabitants of the dungeons took a solemn oath and pledged to gather at the meal hours of the newly-minted empress, where she orders. Wanting to give a legitimate look to her violence, Brynza told the mice that her dinners were the craft of Fate itself, after which the unscrupulous villain mercilessly ate two dozen of her loyal subjects. The bats obeyed the owl implicitly, secretly hoping that its appetite would always end. But their hope was in vain. Brynza quickly grew fat, and her imperial appetite grew by leaps and bounds.
The power-hungry owl Brynza divided the Underworld into squads. To identify the leaders of the detachments, Brynza came up with special competitions: who will scratch whom. The winners of the tournament were nicknamed Zatsarap. Zatsarapy led the detachments, becoming their sovereign sole commanders. But they knew that the most big-eyed and big-eared mice, the Flying Rascals, Brynza's personal informants, were also vigilantly watching them. Scratches were not subject to ordinary eating and were devoured by an owl only at the secret slander of the Flying Rogues, the latter were completely exempted from being eaten. In the future, the owl Brynza hoped to widely breed Zatsarapov and Flying Rogues in the dungeons. For this privilege, the Flying Scoundrels, together with the Scratches, by hook or by crook, began to serve their benefactor.
Non-rumor mice were eaten by the owl Brynza in the first place.
II. rite of passage
Owl Brynza chose the most spacious cave of the Underworld as her residence, naming it Bolshedyr Thronesalny. But the ambitious owl did not revel in power for long. Like any ruler, it soon seemed to her that her kingdom was not enough. Now she listened more and more often to the moles digging underground. And she decided to enslave the mole people. "With the help of moles, I will definitely get a magical treasure that the townspeople have never found," the owl dreamed.
But how to conquer the moles? Brynza herself did not know how to catch them. Bats were not suitable for this purpose either. And then she remembered the rats that lived upstairs in the Old Tower.
Brynza entered into negotiations with Krysid - the Rat Kagan and concluded a mutually beneficial agreement: the rats pledged to help the owl subdue the moles, and for this they were solemnly admitted to owl meals in Bolshedyr Thronozalny.
All the rat stock moved to the Underworld and began to be on duty at the mole holes. Once the rats managed to catch the mole leader. He turned out to be a very fat and agile short man. And the rats, in order to moderate the ardor of the fat man, pretty much strangled him. Half-crushed, he was brought to Bolshedyr Thronesalny. Here Brynza, who loves all sorts of mystical mysteries, decided to arrange a ritual for the mole to join her Empire.
For the sacred ceremonial, the herald rats drove the entire underground population to Bolshedyr Thronozalny. The monarch nestled on the throne cobblestone, and around her were representatives of the Rat Kaganate. The four venerable Stamping Rat, led by the most venerable Chief Stamper, prepared for the ceremony.
At a sign from Brynza, the Chief Stamper proclaimed:
The sacrament of initiation begins! ..
And then the drumming rats hit with their paws on specially prepared ritual tins. Under their tinkling into the middle of the Thronesal Big Hole, the stamping rats pushed a frightened little mole to death. The Chief Stamper turned to him:
O you filthy and unworthy! The most powerful monarch of the owl Brynza most mercifully joins your grubby diggers to her Underworld. And you, how chief representative of your people, you will receive the sacred branding. Blindfold him, - the Chief Stamper commanded the assistants.
Have mercy, - the unfortunate leader of the moles cried out, - after all, we, moles, are blind from birth. Why blindfold a blind man?
This is beside the point, - cut off the Chief Stamper, - a rite is a rite! - And the mole was tightly blindfolded. And then the Chief Puncher exclaimed:
On your knees, oh filthiest of moles!
The front paws of the mole voivode buckled in fear, he poked his nose into the sand and tried to burrow. But the stamping rats grabbed him by the hind legs and pulled out of the ground, like a carrot from a garden.
The one who passes the rite of branding alive is assigned high title Underworld - Chief Underground Singer. In case of death - the title is assigned to him posthumously. So, are you ready to join? - the Stamper turned to the leader of the moles.
Great! You deserve to be branded!
The world of a fairy tale is always the world of Wisdom. The fairy tales created by the writer's pen have long been occupying an honorable place on the bookshelf next to the fairy tales of the peoples of the world. "The Tale of Alya and Alya" by G. Grigoriev deserves to stand next to the tales of Odoevsky and Pogorelsky, Aksakov and Al. Volkov. Philosophical depth, combined with a free creative flight of fantasy, makes the fairy tale interesting for both adults and children.
JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF WISDOM
Once upon a time, a little boy, under the cover of a dark moonless night, complained: “Mom, you know: this night bothers me so much!” The pure soul of the little man longed for the Sun's Light and could hardly endure even the short summer night.
Time passed. The boy, like all people on earth, stopped paying attention to the night, or maybe just stopped talking about it ... He learned to make long mysterious journeys alone, desperately ride a motorcycle, go on big night fishing trips. And when he entered a completely independent life, fate for a long time threw him on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. And it was so in keeping with the spirit of his favorite characters from the books of Melville and Jack London, Stevenson and Jules Verne, Hemingway and Edgar Allan Poe.
The rejection of the darkness of the night did not go away, but it became conscious and required creative reflection. Thus, the pages of this book began to be born, in which the most important foundations of human existence are considered. And one of them: each person must make a choice between Good and Evil. But in our difficult time it is even more difficult for a person to carry the torch of Light than in the old days. No wonder the world we live in is called black.
I'm not talking about the beautiful world of Nature, which is magnificently arranged by the Creator, but about the world that exists in the homes and families of people, on our streets and in our institutions - the world that adult unreasonable people have created and are creating. The point is that people to this day have not learned to live according to the Commandments of the Creator. And these Testaments are reminded to us by Poets and Writers, Artists and Musicians. It also reminds me of a boy who, when he grew up, wrote this fairy tale about Alya and Alya.
When we read this tale, we see very well that those who aspire to the Light are supported by the eternal forces that create everything in the world. With his courage and energy, his irresistible desire to fight Darkness and Evil, each person strengthens the most important foundations of Life and wins the right to be Happy.
In a certain caliphate, behind high mountains, behind wide valleys, behind three deserts in a huge valley, called the Golden Valley for its beauty, there was a city, beautiful and ancient, and a wise and just sultan ruled in it. Crafts flourished in that city, there was a brisk trade, caravans with goods left every day at dawn for distant cities, and at sunset new caravans with new outlandish goods returned to replace them. And there was everything in this city, no matter what was praised in the world, and there was even a school in this city for special young men, gifted with the talent to make dreams and dreams come true, to turn the essence of things, to embody the most daring wishes. It was a school of sorcerers and was run by the most powerful and ancient living sorcerer, Hassan al Rashid ibn Sa'addat. His students glorified both their school and their city all over the world, becoming famous healers, architects, poets and even advisers to sultans. Few people outside the city knew about the true power of their knowledge, and they themselves forever vowed not to divulge the secrets of magical art for any earthly benefits under any threat.
And there was one young man among Hassan's disciples, Ali son of Rahman. He was inquisitive and cheerful, loved pranks and pranks more than teaching, and of all disciplines, he especially revered the magic of turning pranks and jokes, but he taught everything else with laziness and reluctantly. His parents were poor and could not pay Hassan for his son's education, and therefore, in his free time, Ali did all the work on a par with the servants who worked at Hassan's school. I must say that as he began to get more and more hard work, he began to exert more and more diligence in such subjects as the conversion of the essence of objects, control of the elements - this is to manage water in washing the huge rooms of the school, as well as the eternally littered school yard.
But now the time has come for the students of the school to keep their last exam to receive the coveted letter stating that Hassan al Rashid ibn Saaddat himself granted them the title of Master of Magical Sciences. Everyone coped with their tasks, so did Ali, the son of Rahman. As usual, Hassan gave along with the diploma and a personal gift for each student, whatever he wished at the time of receiving the diploma - be it a new palace in their blessed city, or a flying carpet, or even a cauldron that itself cooked any food. But it was only necessary to guess correctly, because all desires were fulfilled, but they never turned back, and if he changed his mind, the student wanted to get a carpet instead of a boiler, it wasn’t there - know your dream, Hassan liked to say, and he also liked to say - be afraid of your desires, because if they come true, they can turn against you. And something else, a lot of things that Ali did not bother to remember, for he favored teachings and wisdom, but he remained as he was - a lover of pranks and pranks.
On the eve of the solemn day, Ali lay on his bed and looked out of the long narrow window into which the clear moon shone. What can you think of to bring to your father and mother, Ali thought, looking at the moon. Should I bring my mother a potty? So she cooks without any magic so that you lick your fingers. Maybe bring the father the keys to the new house, so that it would not be like their old shack, but a huge three-story palace? So, after all, the old people will grumble at him - they will say that you gave us a whole palace, and who will clean it up? Ali sighed, and turned on his side, trying to fall asleep ... and so he tossed and turned, but still he could not fall asleep. Dawn was coming soon, and all his thoughts overcame that he had no wishes, and what to give his mother and father when he himself appeared to help them?
The first roosters crowed, but Ali did not fall asleep. And then he hears, a goat bleated in the yard, the same goat that was brought to their school from no one knows where. Everything would be fine, but only she was a lame goat, and she was not allowed to graze along with all the goats, so that she would not fall behind and get lost. So the shepherd took her alone to graze just in the schoolyard, where Ali with the third roosters usually watered the bushes and flower beds with water, cleaned the rubbish. He used to pick the flowers that grew in the flower beds, and gave them to the goat to chew, joking, moreover, I bring flowers to my beauty Lameleg.
Ali heard the goat bleating and he felt sorry for her. He had no friends among the students, they were all from rich and high-ranking families, where could a poor man find their friendship. He only joked with the servants all day long, and the lame goat carried flowers for the sake of leprosy.
And what, and let Hassan guess my desire, he will never guess what the poor man dreams of. Will I offer palaces, expensive horses or even a fighting elephant. And don't even think about the goat. So I'll catch him, - Ali thought about a new prank and fell asleep happy, just in time for the second roosters.
At noon, when all the students passed their exam, Hassan gathered them all in the school yard and ordered them to sit in a circle around him. WITH important view all the students approached him one at a time, received their letters from the hands of the teacher, bowed to him in the ground, and while bowing, the Sorcerer held his hand over their heads with an outstretched palm and read their hidden desires. He guessed all desires and all dreams, and each of the students received the fulfillment of his desire as a reward. And so, when the sky turned pink from sunset, and the first star flashed in the east, Hassan called his last disciple, Ali, the son of Rahman, to his side.
Come on Ali. Here is your diploma.
Ali bowed to the ground in front of the teacher, and merrily thought to himself - that's just a joke! I don't need castles or horses, just a lame goat. Go guess, Hassan!
Smiling from ear to ear, Ali rose to his feet and looked boldly into the teacher's eyes. Hassan, on the other hand, looked at him with surprise and interest, rubbing his chin, and muttering something to himself in an incomprehensible language. That's right, the poor man's son puzzled him.
Well, Ali, son of Rahman, get what you want the most. To each his own reward. And yours is waiting for you, - the thin hand of the magician in the wide sleeve of the robe pointed to the post to which the lame goat was tied.
The disciples, seeing what the poor man's son had received as a gift, burst out laughing, and some even fell to the ground and rolled with laughter. Here's the weirdo! Probably, he fell in love with the goat so much that it’s a pity to leave it!
Ali blushed with shame that the teacher read his thoughts and desires, but did not say anything. He only thanked for the gift and went to untie the goat. But the teacher stopped him. He rose to his feet and approached the young man, looking into his eyes with his deep black eyes.
Do not be ashamed that you wished to take the one soul to which you became attached, for years of study. Everyone deserves his reward, and everyone is worthy of the desires of his heart. Take care of your gift. Do not sell to anyone and do not give offense. Maybe she will bring you good luck, and you will bring her.
Ali did not understand the words of the teacher, but who will understand when the whole school yard was shaking from the laughter of his comrades. He took the goat and, satisfied that his apprenticeship was over, went home.
On the way he walked past the market square. As the sun went down, all the shopkeepers hurried to close their shops and go home. Ali felt his stomach rumble, so loudly, as if a hungry beast had settled in him. The young man stopped near the fruit merchant's shop and admired the ripe peaches - that would be at least one ... at least starve to death, as long as it reaches the house.
What do you want, noble sir? the merchant asked him, looking at Ali's embroidered student robe.
Thanks, nothing, - Ali answered and wandered between the rows, he had no money, so why tease himself.
Hey, leave me your goat, and I'll give you a whole cartload of peaches and grapes to boot! - shouted the merchant, but Ali only waved his hand.
Hey, good young man, sell a goat, what’s a lame leg for you, I’ll exchange it for pies with dried apricots, ”another merchant offered, slipping a dish with a steaming ruddy pie under Ali’s nose, but Ali only squeezed the rope more tightly in his hand, by which he led his goat and moved on.
Ay, young, handsome and well dressed, but what about your shoes are so worn out? Ai ai ai, come, come here, sir, I'll sell you the best shoes! From golden brocade. You will not find such second ones in the entire Golden Valley!
Ali looked at the shoes, and indeed they are gold! And how beautifully the pebbles shimmered, from which the patterns on the socks were laid out! A feast for the eyes! But in such shoes and to the palace! Who would dare not let Ali, the son of Rahman?!
Yes, I will give you the shoes anyway, my dear lord, and you leave me the goat for them. The price is not expensive, but the bargaining is good, - the shoemaker pressed on him, showing the shoes on one side, then on the other, so that even Ali's eyes began to sparkle.
You have beautiful shoes, - Ali answered, stopped, looked closely, but waved his hand, - I won’t take them. This goat is dearer to me. Present.
Yes, it’s a real gift of fate, - the shoemaker grinned, giving way to Ali, all the same, - Well, go with your gift!
A gift of fate, - thought Ali, but what, and the truth ... but only now, what's the use of you, Gift?
You might think that you were a lot of use in learning, - the goat shook her head.
Ali's legs gave way, he almost stumbled when he heard what the goat said to him. He looked into her eyes and thought - wonderful, apparently I'm so hungry that it already seems that my goat is talking to me.
Here it does not seem. And instead of thinking about hunger, it would be better to take me home, until some trickster really exchanged me with you for some trifle.
Ali could not believe his eyes, and his ears too. The goat is talking! Plus, he reads his mind!
So what's so smart about that? Your thoughts are written on your forehead and in your eyes. Just now you remembered that your mother swore that it was always dark in the house at sunset, and your father would not go broke on a lamp.
Ah... why should I buy a lamp when I don't have a penny? Ali asked, completely surprised.
And you go to that merchant over there, you see him, you can’t put the goods on a cart alone, he’s already all gone. Help him, and ask for a lamp for his work. Just look, don't ask for anything. Choose the one over there, which lies in the farthest corner of his shop.
Copper what? With a dent? - Ali asked skeptically, trying on how many bales he would have to carry for such an unseen thing.
Take that one, - the goat shook its horns, - Go, and I'll wait for you.
Ali listened to the advice of the goat, and the merchant really accepted his help, and as a reward he offered to choose any thing from his shop that the young man would like. Oh, and how much was there! And a scimitar in a sheath studded with stones, and a beautiful turban with a huge diamond in the clasp and with a heron feather, and robes embroidered and sweets unseen from the countries of the north. Ali held out his hand to the beautiful scimitar, but he remembered the words of the goat. What if you listen to her? So far, the sultan will not take the yatagan to his army, except as a clerk. And the lamp will fit at least at home, and for the mother there will be at least some joy from his return.
Ali took the lamp, thanked the generous merchant, and went on his way. And the goat next to him is running, bleating merrily, even jumping up and down, even though it was limping on one leg.
When you get home, don't light the lamp right away. Wait till night and then you'll see,” said the goat as they turned down the street towards Ali's father's house.
And why did I buy it, if not kindle? - Ali marveled, but did not argue - the house already seemed close, and at the gate his mother met him.
Ali's father and mother rejoiced at the return of their son from the teachings. Even though it hasn’t become more important than it was before, but at least you’ve got the mind of the mind? They looked at the diploma, and since both of them could not read, they put it aside, along with family relics. And they fed their son. They left his goat in the yard of the house, let him graze himself. Although lame, but in the economy it does not hurt.
Night has come. Ali forgot to think about both the goat and his lamp. He went to bed in his little room, and would have slept like that, but the goat from the yard bleated so that it woke him through his slumber. Ali looked out the window, and the goat shouted to him:
Well, what are you, light the lamp. Night in the yard!
Ali laughed and waved his hand. The lamp will wait ... But the goat did not let up. Then Ali took a lamp. He turned it over in his hands, rubbed it for a look, it seemed painfully dirty to him, shook it ... or maybe there was no oil in it at all?
Well, don't shake it, don't shake it like that! Shake your soul out! came from the lamp. Ali was so surprised that he dropped the lamp and sat down on the mattress that served him as a bed. Meanwhile, a bluish cloud flew out of the lamp and spread over the ceiling, scattered around the room, and then rose again to the ceiling and took on the outlines of a human figure with legs extending into the lamp nose.
I obey and obey, my lord! exclaimed the figure, and bowed to Ali to the floor.
You... you already speak more quietly, - Ali asked in a voice that had sunken from fright and amazement, - What are you, Genie?
But what about, - the Genie answered smugly, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.
Oh, - Ali ran his hand over his forehead, wiping the perspiration, - And what, can you do everything?
Everything, my lord.
That's the case ... well, so what, will you do everything that I command? - Ali remembered from the lessons that all the Genies had some kind of their own conditions, without which no magic worked - either three wishes, or to kill his enemy, or to steal something, but only Ali slept through that lesson sweet sleep and remember nothing.
I will do whatever you wish, my lord. But not to kill, not to resurrect, not to fall in love, I can not. Everything else - just tell me, I'll do it in an instant!
All, all, all? Ali asked, trying to sidestep the thorny issue of conditions.
Everything, everything, everything, - the Genie grinned, - For a friend of the Lame Goat, everything, everything, everything.
Is it like this? - Ali was surprised and looked out the window, in the yard his goat was chewing grass, as if nothing had happened.
And so. She is my true mistress. And anyone who becomes her friend will also be my master.
Oh... how entertaining this is... but... but then let me have sweet dreams for now... and yes, change my mattress for something soft. And get a lamp for my mother, she gets up early in the morning after dark... and... - Ali waved his hand tiredly and collapsed on a huge sofa with many pillows that appeared out of nowhere, - I'll figure it out tomorrow... - a goat bleated merrily outside the window, - Oh yes... give the goat my water... and juicy herbs... and flowers. She loves flowers like...
So Ali, the New Lord of the Lamp, fell asleep, and the Genie rushed to fulfill all his wishes, wondering to himself what an impractical master he got ... to match his girlfriend ...))
Once upon a time, in a Persian city, there lived two brothers, Qasim and Ali Baba. When their father died, they divided the money that was left after him, and Qasim began selling expensive fabrics and silk robes in the market. He knew how to praise his goods and invite buyers, and his shop was always crowded with a lot of people. Qasim grew richer and richer, and when he had accumulated a lot of money, he married the daughter of the chief judge, whose name was Fatima.
But Ali Baba did not know how to trade and make money, and he was married to poor girl named Zeinab. They quickly spent almost everything they had, and one day Zeinab said:
“Listen, Ali Baba, we will soon have nothing to eat. You need to come up with something, otherwise we will die of hunger.
“All right,” said Ali Baba, “I will think about what we should do.
He went out into the garden, sat down under a tree, and began to think. Ali Baba thought for a long time and finally came up with. He took the money he had left, went to the market and bought two donkeys, an ax and a rope.
And the next morning he went out of town, to high mountain, overgrown with dense forest, and chopped wood all day. In the evening, Ali Baba tied firewood into bundles, loaded his donkeys with them and returned to the city. He sold firewood in the market and bought bread, meat and greens.
Since then, Ali Baba went to the mountain every morning and chopped wood until the evening, and then sold it in the market and bought bread and meat for himself and for Zeinab. And then one day he stood tall tree, intending to cut it down, and suddenly noticed that dust had risen on the road to the very sky. And when the dust cleared, Ali Baba saw that a detachment of horsemen dressed in armor and chain mail was rushing straight at him; spears were tied to the saddles, and long sharp swords glittered on their belts. In front, a one-eyed man with a black beard rode on a tall white horse.
Ali Baba was very scared. He quickly climbed to the top of the tree and hid in its branches. And the horsemen rode up to the place where he had just stood, and descended to the ground. Each of them took a heavy sack from his saddle and slung it over his shoulders; then they stood in a row, waiting for the one-eyed one, their chieftain, to order.
"What kind of people are these and what do they have in their bags?" thought Ali Baba. "Probably they are thieves and robbers."
He counted the people, and it turned out that there were exactly forty of them, except for the chieftain. The ataman stood in front of his men and led them to a high rock, in which there was a small steel door; it was so overgrown with grass and thorns that it was almost invisible.
The chieftain stopped in front of the door and shouted loudly:
Simsim, open the door!
And suddenly the door in the rock flew open, the ataman entered, and his people came in behind him, and the door slammed shut behind them again.
"What a miracle!" thought Ali Baba. "After all, simsim is a small plant. I know that oil is squeezed out of it, but I did not know that it could open doors!"
Ali Baba really wanted to take a closer look at the magic door, but he was so afraid of the robbers that he did not dare to get down from the tree.
A little time passed, and suddenly the door opened again, and forty robbers came out with empty bags. As before, the one-eyed chieftain walked ahead. The robbers tied empty sacks to their saddles, jumped on their horses and galloped off.
Then Ali Baba, who was already tired of sitting crouched on a tree, quickly descended to the ground and ran to the rock.
"And what will happen if I also say: "Simsim, open the door?" - he thought. - Will the door open or not? I'll try!"
He plucked up courage, breathed more air and shouted at the top of his voice:
Simsim, open the door!
And immediately the door swung open before him, and opened the entrance to a large cave.
Ali Baba entered the cave, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind him again. Ali Baba was a little scared: what if the door will no longer open and he will not be able to go out? But he nevertheless went forward, looking around in surprise.
He saw that he was in a large room, and against the walls were many tables lined with golden dishes under silver lids. Ali Baba felt the delicious smell of food and remembered that he had not eaten anything since morning. He went to one table, removed the lids from the dishes, and his mouth watered - on the dishes lay all the dishes you could wish for: fried chicken, rice pilaf, pancakes with jam, halva, apples and many other delicious things.
Ali Baba grabbed the chicken and ate it instantly. Then he set to work on the pilaf, and having finished with it, he put his hands into the halva, but he could no longer eat a single piece - he was so full before. After resting a little, he looked around and saw the entrance to another room. Ali Baba entered there and screwed up his eyes. The whole room sparkled and shone - there was so much gold and jewelry in it. Golden dinars and silver dirhams lay in heaps right on the ground, like stones on sea shore. Precious dishes - cups, trays, dishes decorated with expensive stones - stood in all corners. Bales of silk and fabrics—Chinese, Indian, Syrian, Egyptian— lay in the middle of the room; on the walls hung sharp swords and long spears, which would have been enough for an entire army.
Ali Baba's eyes widened, and he did not know what to do: he would try on a red silk robe, then he would grab a golden tray and look into it as if in a mirror, then he would pick up a handful of gold coins and sprinkle them.
At last he calmed down a little and said to himself:
“This money and jewelry must have been looted, and the robbers who were just here put it here. These riches do not belong to them, and if I take a little gold for myself, there will be nothing wrong with that. After all, there are so many of them that it is impossible to count.
Ali Baba tucked up the skirts of his robe and, kneeling down, began to pick up the gold. He found two empty bags in the cave, filled them with dinars, dragged them to the door and shouted:
Simsim, open the door!
The door swung open immediately.
Ali Baba stepped out of the cave and the door slammed shut behind him. Thorny bushes and branches intertwined and hid her from view. Ali Baba's donkeys were grazing on the lawn. Ali Baba loaded them with sacks of gold, covered them with firewood and drove home.
When he returned, it was already night, and an alarmed Zeinab was waiting for him at the gate.
What have you been doing in the forest for so long? she asked. “I thought you were mauled by wolves or hyenas. Why did you bring firewood home and not sell it?
“Now you will know everything, Zeinab,” said Ali Baba. “Help me bring these bags into the house and don’t make noise so that the neighbors won’t hear us.”
Zeinab silently hoisted one of the sacks onto her back, and she and Ali Baba entered the house. Zeinab closed the door tightly behind her, lit the lamp, and untied the sack. Seeing the gold, she turned pale with fear and shouted:
What have you done, Ali Baba? Who did you rob?
"Don't worry, Zeinab," said Ali Baba. “I didn’t rob anyone, and now I’ll tell you what happened to me today.
He told her about the robbers and the cave and, having finished his story, said:
“Look, Zeinab, hide this gold and don’t tell anyone about it. People will think that we really robbed someone, and they will report us to the Sultan, and then he will take all our gold from us and put us in a dungeon. Let's dig a hole and hide the gold in it.
They went out into the garden, dug a hole by the light of the moon, put all the gold in it, and then again covered the hole with earth.
Having finished with this matter, Ali Baba went to bed. Zeynab also lay down, but she tossed and turned from side to side for a long time and thought:
"How much gold did Ali Baba bring? As soon as it dawns, I will count all the coins to the last!"
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