Over the hill, over the meadow,
at the edge of the forest, at the end of the village,
small house with a spacious yard,
there life of the three puppies.
Away from the city noise,
Berci, Benedek and Bátor.
The shy Berci, when he saw it,
shook like a leaf,
Benedek when he wasn't asleep,
the lazy dog ate everything.
Brave, who feared nothing,
was the smallest of all.
On a snowy winter morning,
the snow was still falling quietly,
Brave suddenly saw it,
the gate open, open.
"Who could it be?" Very strange,
his nose could not feel anyone.
Curious, he ran over,
and then it went a little further.
Houses, gates, came in rows,
he wondered, barked.
At some point they were all gone,
and then Brave stopped.
He looked around but did not see it,
where the gate is open,
then went after the smells,
but all lost in the snow.
Now Brave was getting scared,
away from home.
I missed the shy Berci,
the lazy, gluttonous Benedict,
the house, the gate and the courtyard,
"where is your home?"
The snow was falling from the sky,
and slowly it washed everything away.
Lost, lonely,
he began to whine immediately.
He trusted that someone
will help him.
Then you can finally go home,
you could not have hoped for better.
Suddenly a familiar voice
"Brave where are you?" he called.
Soon he came closer,
picked him up, stroked him.
"A familiar smell, a familiar hand"
Bator was already reassured.
Over the hill, over the meadow,
at the edge of the forest, at the end of the village,
in the spacious courtyard of a small house,
On the side of Berci and Benedek,
happy Brave the puppy,
has a home inside the gate.
/story illustrated by Tar Martin/
