Russian folk story: Lake King

there's a ranch behind the black forest.

the green grass, deep in its waist, dies and rots in the fall, and becomes fertilizer for the coming spring.

there are only some of the thickest rods still shaking in the cold.

there were no trees on the pastures except for a few of the herbs.

they were desolate.

look away, i can't see a path.

only the wind from which it was not known was confined to the high walls of the forest, and it was like the air from the chest was floating on the pasture.

behind the pastures are mountains, rusty rock mountains.

there are few people in this place, except for the long, thin-legged deer, who runs from the grass like a swallow, into the depths of the dense forest.

there's a lake behind the mountain.

the color of the lake is strange, it's golden.

when the sun shines on it, it shines like a giant shield.

even gob and the reeds are golden.

years have passed, and the lake always shines.

every evening, groups of ducks fly on the lake, sometimes in circles and sometimes on the waves of plumes.

some ducks are nesting here.

they fly all the time.

they fly back before dawn.

from where? no one knows...

one time, there were two shadows behind a hill not far from the lake.

a man and a woman.

both are young, strong and beautiful.

their movements show that they are exhausted.

he was sweating on the face of the sun.

they looked up in the air.

they stopped.

"listen to me, myvost, let's drop the last golden-legged duck.

we seem lost.

and at night we'll meet the trap in the reeds." free ducks vibrate their wings and fly away to the low.

"good! the flow of gold is over there somewhere! the ducks were there dazzling their feathers.

go! let's go!" they ran away from the stones beneath their feet.

milvost ran in front, and suddenly stood up, with his arms open, and he said, "look! look! milvost didn't wait for his young wife to jump over.

the joy of victory would almost blow up his chest.

milvost is a greedy man who longs for wealth, and good luck has opened up a treasure bank before his eyes — the mysterious lake of gold.

he ran faster and faster, fell down and climbed up, hurt or nothing, and he ignored it.

he finally ran to the lake.

he almost got carried away.

he immersed his hands in the water, so that the water reached the elbow.

then take a look and leave a layer of gold on it.

milvost leans down on the lake, slaps the waves with his hands and cheers: "happy!" real happiness!" his wife, svava, looked up in the eyes and watched her husband's finger stitches.

"come on! put your hands in the water! feel the weight and the chill of this baby." while his wife was trying to take a step forward, as her husband had ordered, an old man with a white beard stood in their midst and blocked the woman ' s path with a lead cane.

"who are you?" myvost yells, "you're out of here, homeless, you have a word about this lakeDon't leak, you hear me?" "I pity you, old man nod." “You are not worthy of it, you old man, and you are not kept secret.” Who told you not to watch the ducks?" "I pity you," said the old man, "You're both young.

This treasure is not yours.

It's not too late for you to leave." "It's you who needs to get out of here! I'm going to rip your rotting head off! "I pity your door, but I can see that you are too arrogant.

I'll come when you've overcome your pride." The old man said calmly, and then it disappeared.

"What a nasty old thing." Milvost squeezed his fist, "He'd call us competitors.

There was a bad light in his eyes." "I think it's a good light," Svalva said, "We should probably think about what he said." Milvost's pissed off.

"Now, when we have reached the peak of fantasy, are we going to consider this nonsense? No, Svalva! Let's do it.

The bottom of this lake must be an inexhaustible gold.

We quickly get it out, so we can be happy people, as soon as possible.”