Once upon a time there lived an old man and an old woman. One day the old man said:
“Bake me a kolobok, old woman.”
“What can I bake it from? We have no flour.”
“Oh, old woman! Scrape the flour box, sweep the grain bin; perhaps you will gather enough flour.”
The old woman took a little feather brush, scraped the flour box, swept the grain bin, and gathered about two handfuls of flour. She kneaded the dough with sour cream, fried it in butter, and put the kolobok on the windowsill to cool.
The kolobok lay there for a while, and then suddenly rolled away: from the window to the bench, from the bench to the floor, across the floor to the door, over the threshold into the entryway, from the entryway onto the porch, from the porch into the yard, from the yard through the gate, farther and farther away.
The kolobok rolled along the road, and a hare came toward him.
“Kolobok, Kolobok! I am going to eat you!”
“Do not eat me, little hare! I will sing you a song,” said the kolobok, and he began to sing:
I was scraped from the flour box,
Swept from the grain bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
And fried in butter,
Cooled on the windowsill;
I got away from Grandfather,
I got away from Grandmother,
And getting away from you, Hare,
Is no hard thing at all!
And he rolled on farther. The hare only saw him go!
The kolobok rolled on, and a wolf came toward him.
“Kolobok, Kolobok! I am going to eat you!”
“Do not eat me, gray wolf! I will sing you a song!”
I was scraped from the flour box,
Swept from the grain bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
And fried in butter,
Cooled on the windowsill;
I got away from Grandfather,
I got away from Grandmother,
I got away from the Hare,
And getting away from you, Wolf,
Is no hard thing at all!
And he rolled on farther. The wolf only saw him go!
The kolobok rolled on, and a bear came toward him.
“Kolobok, Kolobok! I am going to eat you.”
“How could you, club-footed Bear, ever eat me!”
I was scraped from the flour box,
Swept from the grain bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
And fried in butter,
Cooled on the windowsill;
I got away from Grandfather,
I got away from Grandmother,
I got away from the Hare,
I got away from the Wolf,
And getting away from you, Bear,
Is no hard thing at all!
And again he rolled away. The bear only saw him go!
The kolobok rolled and rolled, and a fox came toward him.
“Hello, Kolobok! How lovely you are!”
And the kolobok began to sing:
I was scraped from the flour box,
Swept from the grain bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
And fried in butter,
Cooled on the windowsill;
I got away from Grandfather,
I got away from Grandmother,
I got away from the Hare,
I got away from the Wolf,
I got away from the Bear,
And I will surely get away from you, Fox!
“What a wonderful song!” said the fox. “But you see, Kolobok, I have grown old and I do not hear well. Sit on my snout and sing it once more, a little louder.”
The kolobok jumped onto the fox’s snout and sang the same song again.
“Thank you, Kolobok! What a wonderful song. I would love to hear it once more. Sit on my tongue and sing it one last time,” said the fox, and she stuck out her tongue.
The kolobok foolishly jumped onto her tongue, and the fox snapped him up and ate him.
The End.