Showing results by author "Rudyard Kipling" in All Categories

This is a story from the Just So Stories collection.

This is a story from the Just So Stories collection.

This is a story from the Just So Stories collection.

Kimball O'Hara, an Irish orphan, is raised in Lahore by an Indian woman. When his parentage is eventually discovered, he is sent to a British school. But he longs to return home to his wanderings and heroic adventures with his friend, the old lama.

When Deesa the mahout wants to go on a drinking spree for ten days, he entrusts his beloved elephant Moti Guj to another mahout for the period. The elephant is well aware of the number of days that he is to serve under his temporary master. When Deesa loses track of time and fails to show up on the eleventh morning, Moti Guj enacts his own very effective protest.

Teper', moja ljubimaja, ty uznaesh', chto cherez nedelju posle togo, kak Tefimaj Metallumaj (my po-prezhnemu budem nazyvat' ee Tefi) sdelala bol'shuju oshibku otnositel'no ostrogi, chuzhogo cheloveka, pis'ma-kartinki i vsego ostal'nogo, ona opjat' poshla s Tegumaem lovit' karpov. Teshumaj Tevindroj hotela, chtoby Tefi ostalas' doma i pomogla ej razvesit' na zherdjah zverinye kozhi, no Tefi rano ubezhala k svoemu otcu, i oni prinjalis' lovit' rybu.

Ochen'-ochen' davno na svete zhil pervobytnyj chelovek. Zhil on v prostoj peshhere, ne nosil pochti nikakoj odezhdy, ne umel ni chitat', ni pisat', da emu sovsem i ne hotelos' uchit'sja chitat' ili pisat'. Chelovek jetot ne chuvstvoval sebja sovershenno schastlivym tol'ko v to vremja, kogda on byval goloden. Zvali ego, moja ljubimaja, Tegumaj Bopsulaj, i jeto imja znachilo: "chelovek, kotoryj ne speshit". No my s toboj budem ego zvat' prosto Tegumaj; tak koroche.

Rovno cherez pjat' nedel' na Krasnom more stalo tak zharko, chto zhiteli sbrosili s sebja vsju svoju odezhdu. Ognepoklonnik tozhe snjal so svoej golovy shapku, a nosorog skinul s sebja kozhu i, perebrosiv ejo cherez plecho, spustilsja k beregu; on zadumal vykupat'sja. V te dni kozha jeta zastjogivalas' u nego pod sheej na tri pugovicy i ochen' pohodila na nepromokaemoe pal'to.

V te daljokie dni, kogda vse sushhestva tol'ko chto nachali zhit' na zemle, moja ljubimaja, leopard poselilsja v pustynnom meste, kotoroe nazyvalos' Vysokij Fel'dt. Zamet': jeto ne byl Nizkij Fel'dt, ili Lesistyj Fel'dt, ili Gornyj Fel'dt; net, leopard zhil v sovershenno goloj, unyloj, znojnoj, zalitoj sijajushhimi luchami solnca pustyne, nazyvavshejsja Vysokim Fel'dtom. Mestnost' jetu pokryval pesok, skaly odnogo cveta s peskom i redkie kusty zheltovatoj travy.

V samye pervye gody, davnym-davno, vsja zemlja byla noven'kaja, tol'ko chto sdelannaja. Zhivotnye s pervyh zhe dnej stali sluzhit' Cheloveku. No v Uzhasno Unyloj Pustyne zhil Uzhasno Unylyj Verbljud, kotoryj i ne dumal rabotat'. On el suhie koljuchki, zhestkie vetki, tamarisk, ternovnik i koru, no rabotat' ni za chto ne hotel - takoj bessovestnyj bezdel'nik i lentjaj! I chto by ni govorili emu, on na vse otvechal: - Grrb!

V starodavnie vremena v more zhil Kit. Zhil i el rybu, vsjakuju raznuju rybu: tresku i kambalu, plotvu i makrel', shhuk i skatov, minog i lovkih v'junov ugrej. El on takzhe morskih zvjozd i krabov i vsjo, vsjo, vsjo, chto tol'ko emu popadalos'. Na vseh-to, na vseh ryb, na vseh morskih zhivotnyh, kotoryh Kit zamechal, on kidalsja i, otkryv ogromnuju past', hvatal ih. Am - i gotovo! Nakonec Kit s#el reshitel'no vseh ryb vo vseh morjah.

Nu, moja milaja detochka, teper' slushaj horoshen'ko-horoshen'ko, potomu chto vse, chto ja rasskazhu sejchas, proizoshlo i sluchilos', kogda nashi domashnie zhivotnye byli eshhe dikimi. Sobaka byla dikoj, loshad' byla dikoj, korova byla dikoj, ovca byla dikoj, svin'ja byla dikoj; vse oni byli sovsem-sovsem dikimi zhivotnymi i rashazhivali po syrym, dikim lesam, sovsem odni, gde im vzdumaetsja. No samym dikim iz vseh dikih zhivotnyh byl kot. On razgulival odin, gde hotel, i vse mesta byli dlja nego odinakovy.

V samye starodavnie vremena, moja kroshechka, vo vremena, kotorye byli ran'she staryh vremen, slovom, v samom nachale mira, zhil staryj, samyj staryj volshebnik i peredelyval po-svoemu vse, chto togda bylo. Sperva on sdelal zemlju, potom more, potom velel zhivotnym sobrat'sja i nachat' igrat'. Zhivotnye prishli i skazali: "O, starejshij i velikij volshebnik, kak nam igrat'?" I on otvetil im: "Ja skazhu kak".

Slushaj, moja detochka, slushaj horoshen'ko; ja rasskazhu tebe novuju chudesnuju skazku, ona sovsem ne pohozha na moi ostal'nye. Ja rasskazhu tebe ob jetom mudrom pravitele, kotorogo zvali Sulejman-Ben-Daud; jeto znachit Solomon, syn Davida.Ob jetom Sulejman-Ben-Daude sostavleno trista pjat'desjat pjat' rasskazov; no moja istorija ne iz ih chisla. Ja ne stanu govorit' pro pigalicu, kotoraja nashla vodu, ili pro udoda, kotoryj svoimi krylyshkami zashhitil Sulejmana ot solnechnogo znoja.

Teper', moja ljubimaja, ja rasskazhu tebe o tom, chto sluchilos' v davno-davno proshedshie vremena. Tak vot, v jeti dalekie vremena zhil da byl koljuchka-ezhik, zhil na beregah bol'shoj burnoj reki Amazonki, gde poedal ulitok v rakovinah, sliznjakov i tomu podobnye veshhi. On byl ochen' druzhen s tihonej-cherepahoj, kotoraja tozhe zhila na beregu Amazonki, ela listiki zelenogo latuka i drugie rastenija. Nu, znachit, vse bylo v porjadke, pravda, moja ljubimaja.

Nashemu staromu kenguru bylo vechno zharko; no v te vremena, o kotoryh ja govorju, on byl sovsem drugim zver'kom i begal na chetyreh koroten'kih nogah. Shkurka u nego byla seraja, pushistaja, i on otlichalsja gordym nravom. Stranno, on bol'she vsego gordilsja tem, chto tanceval na gornoj ploshhadke v centre Avstralii.

Mnogo-mnogo let tomu nazad, moja ljubimaja, u slona ne bylo hobota - tol'ko chernovatyj tolstyj nos, velichinoj s sapog; pravda, slon mog povorachivat' ego iz storony v storonu, no ne podnimal im nikakih veshhej. V jeto zhe vremja zhil na svete ochen' molodoj slon, slon-ditja. On byl strashno ljubopyten, a potomu vechno vsem zadaval razlichnye voprosy. Zhil on v Afrike, i nikto v jetoj obshirnoj strane ne mog nasytit' ego ljubopytstva.

This is a story from the "Great Ghost Stories" collection.

These stories were meant to be told aloud, and the narrator David Lazarus is perfectly suited to tell these 12 tales Kipling originally told to his children over a century ago. The stories are not only entertaining, but many include a moral lesson, such as "How the Camel Got His Hump," a lesson about being lazy and procrastinating. If you have a cat, you will see him in "The Cat That Walked by Himself".

Reinventata in chiave moderna e originale dallo scrittore Alessandro Spanghero, e costruita artisticamente per l’ascolto, la celebre opera di Kipling racconta di Mowgli, il cucciolo d’uomo, che viene adottato dal branco dei Lupi di Seonee, il Popolo Libero della Giungla. E con loro felicemente vive, fino a quando la terribile tigre Shere Khan decide che è giunto il momento di impadronirsi di lui, e divorarlo.