Far, far away from here, beyond the midnight-black Tintatenger, and even beyond the glass mountain, there lived a very, very old, wrinkled and toothless old woman called Mother Time.
This very old mother-in-law wore a hundred folds of rocolya (a skirt with a ruffled bottom and plenty of pleats - ed.), like the very old women, and in the hundred folds of her rocolya there were a hundred winds.
When she smoothed the left fold of her magnificent rocolya, a light breeze swept across the ground, barely ruffling the green leaves of the trees. When the old mother smoothed out the right-hand fringe of this wonderful rococo, a cold wind whistled across the ground. The trees shivered as their leafy coats shrank, the people shivered as they took shelter under their sheltering roofs, and even the animals shrank in their stalls.
But what happened when the very old Mother Time smoothed out the middle crease of her skirt. Hey, then a devastating windstorm, a fierce hurricane, raced across the land, uprooting trees, toppling boulders, whipping rivers from their beds. It tore off the thatched roofs of houses and swept them far into the air, like a chalice.
- "Mother Time is in a bad mood again," people used to say in horror.
But I'm not going to tell you about Mother Time's wonderful cousin, but about her two handsome sons, the golden-robed Sun and the silver-robed Moon.
With these two beautiful sons lived the very old Mother Time in her deep cave. The eldest son was Lord Sun, who had lived millions of years on earth. Do you children know how many millions there are? It is many, so many that it would boggle the minds of the cleverest men to count it.
Well, that was the age of our Lord of the Sun, but it was nothing compared to Mother Time.
And Mr Moon was a little younger than his brother, Mr Sun. Master Sun was lively and always laughed a lot. And Mr Moon was a chilly little boy, who preferred to be quiet and quiet.
As I said, in Mother Time's cave they lived in peace. Mr. Sun always rose at dawn and ran up to the vault of heaven to do his daily work. And at dusk he returned to his mother's cave.
Not so his brother, the brooding, troubled Master Moon. He was certainly up late at night from his pillows and slowly making his way up through the sky.
- "Well, the moon is up now," said the people down on the ground, "it's evening again.
Such was the peace and quiet of the two brothers' mother.
But one beautiful summer evening, as Mr. Moon ran up into the sky, he heard the slowly floating clouds whispering softly.
- "What are the clouds whispering about?" thought Mr. Moon, curiously, "I'll just listen to them.
He opened his ears wide and listened.
- "How beautiful the moon shines," says one of the lamb clouds who had just been born, "how beautiful this silver disk shines, my mother.
- "That's nothing yet, my boy," said the mother of the young lamb cloud, an older rain cloud. How sweetly it shines.
The tame moon also turned pale at this.'I will show that I am more beautiful than my brother, the yellow sun. I know, he'll blush with envy.
In his revenge, he hid behind a big cloud and slept all night. Even at dawn, he was up in the sky, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and decided to wait in the sky for his brother, the yellow Sun Lord, to wake up.
It is not fair that he is always up during the day. Of course, it's nicer in the daytime in the big light of man. But now I will show that I am as fair in the day as my brother, the proud Sun Lord.
Slowly the sun rose from behind the mountains and the sleepy moon began to fade, to wink in the sky.
- "Nini - the sun is up," said the people on the ground below, "and the moon is still in the sky. But you can hardly see it, it's so pale in the sunlight.
In vain were all the efforts of Master Moon, his brother the Sun completely eclipsed him.
- "It's morning," said the people happily, "the sun is shining warmly.
And poor Mr Moon was no longer cared for. Sadly he bowed his head and what else could he do, he returned to his mother, Mother Time's deep cave. Sadly he lay down, for he knew that the day was not the time of the gentle moonbeams, but of the warm Sunbeams.
Since then, he no longer envies the Moon's brother, the Sun.
