An old woman fries a little round bun, Kolobok, and sets it on the windowsill to cool. Kolobok soon grows tired of lying there and rolls off down the road toward the forest. A hare, a gray wolf, and a bear each want to eat it, and for every one of them it has a song.
Once upon a time there lived an old man and an old woman. One day the old man said, “Old woman, bake me a little round bun, a kolobok.”
“And what would I make it with?” asked the old woman. “There’s no flour.”
“Oh, old woman, sweep out the granary and scrape the bottoms of the flour bins, and you’ll find enough.”
So she did. She swept and she scraped until she had two handfuls of flour. She mixed the dough with sour cream, rolled it into a ball, fried it in butter, and set it on the windowsill to cool.
But Kolobok soon grew tired of lying there. It rolled off the windowsill onto the bench by the wall, off the bench onto the grass, off the grass onto the path, and away it went down the road.
As it rolled along, it met a hare.
“Kolobok, Kolobok, I’m going to eat you!”
“No, don’t eat me, Hare. Listen to the song I’ll sing you instead.”
The hare pricked up his ears, and Kolobok began to sing:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok! Swept from the granary, scraped from the bins, mixed with sour cream, put in the oven, cooled on the windowsill. I got away from the old man, I got away from the old woman, and it’s no trick to get away from you, Hare!
Then Kolobok rolled on, and that was the last the hare saw of it.
On it rolled, down the trail toward the forest, and there it met a gray wolf.
“Kolobok, Kolobok, I’m going to eat you!”
“Don’t eat me, Gray Wolf. I’ll sing you a song.” And Kolobok sang:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok! Swept from the granary, scraped from the bins, mixed with sour cream, put in the oven, cooled on the windowsill. I got away from the old man, I got away from the old woman, I got away from the hare, and it’s no trick to get away from you, Gray Wolf!
Away rolled Kolobok, and that was the last the wolf saw of it.
Deep in the forest, along came a bear, snapping branches and bending the bushes flat.
“Kolobok, Kolobok, I’m going to eat you!”
“Ha! You eat me, clumsy? Not a chance! Listen to my song instead.”
Kolobok began to sing, and the bear stood there, all ears:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok! Swept from the granary, scraped from the bins, mixed with sour cream, put in the oven, cooled on the windowsill. I got away from the old man, I got away from the old woman, I got away from the hare, I got away from the wolf, and it’s hardly any trouble to get away from you, Bear!
Away rolled Kolobok, and the bear could only stare after it.
On and on rolled Kolobok, until it met a fox.
“Good day, Kolobok! How pretty you are, and how rosy!”
Kolobok was so pleased to be praised that it sang its song for her. The fox listened, and all the while she crept closer and closer:
I am Kolobok, Kolobok! Swept from the granary, scraped from the bins, mixed with sour cream, put in the oven, cooled on the windowsill. I got away from the old man, I got away from the old woman, I got away from the hare, I got away from the wolf, I got away from the bear, and it’s no trick to get away from you, Fox!
“What a lovely song,” said the fox. “But the trouble is, my dear, I’ve grown old and I can’t hear very well. Come and sit on my nose, and sing it for me just once more.”
Delighted to hear its song praised again, Kolobok hopped up onto the fox’s nose and began, “I am Kolobok, Kolobok…”
And snap! The fox ate it up.
Retold by Talerie from Родное слово (opens in a new window) Public domain Copy this text, adapt it, use it however you like. A link back to Talerie is appreciated but never required. CC0 1.0 (opens in a new window)
