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excerpt AAAGH, WHAT A NIGHTMARE! I jumped up and forgot it was Sunday. I was just about to get dressed and go to school, to find out if Hari had come to any harm; I was like one of those old biddies who dream I don't know what, a black pond or something, and then think

excerpt  CHAPTER TWOIN WHICH MOTHER TELLS SNIPPETY-SNAP THE STORY OF A WHINEY, ROWDY LITTLE BOY Around five o'clock, at dawn,When the other kids sleep on,He would regularly moan.  What ails him, for goodness' sakeTo start moaning at daybreak?Well, at five he

A story, no matter how good or bad it may be, is in the end no more than a joining of words. That's something we know. But where do the story-tellers take out their words that they put together and make stories with (good or bad)? That's what we don't know.

In 1964, Creangă's memories were made into a movie (click here to see preview) by Elisabeta Bostan (b. 1931), whose filmography extending back to 1956, includes the Naica series (Naica and the Stork, Naica and the Squirrel, Naica Leaves for Bucharest), another film

Thou shalt not lie! A lie might get you lunch, but not supper. And there's no honesty in a liar. . . There lived once a little boy, Ionica by his name, who was always loath to help his parents. He didn't like it and that's that. Whenever his father said to

Once upon a time there was an old man who had a daughter famous for her diligence. The old man got married for the second time to an old woman who had a girl as well. But the old woman demanded that the old man's daughter see to all the chores of the house while her

A sad, broke kangaroo suddenly sprangInto the path of an orangutang. The latter said: Your pocket is the best. What about you? That's quite a hairy vest. They struck a deal 'neath the ylang-ylangAnd launched the model kangorangutang.  from Holiday Games, Cartea

You leave a four-pawed trail,Your fur is white as snow,Guess you don't have a tail – Bears don't, far as I know. For bears at the North Pole Sport is a common goal,While South-Pole bears appearQuite unprepared to hear. You are my only bear,Complete with monogram,

excerpt XVI. THE END The blizzard howled, tumbling boulders of petty snow, gasping when hitting icy walls and cliffs or moaning and screaming along the white nowhere. You couldn't tell the sky from the earth or the ice from the water. Nature was unleashed and that

excerptsSUKI – CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF THE THIRD KINDLook! There is a cat over there! Get it! Quickly! the little girl shouted. She was short and plump and she had freckles. She had just fallen while roller skating and damaged her knees, otherwise it would have been her running

Sandy, listen to your mammy! One spring, a very tired quail – tired since she was coming from far, far away, from Africa – alighted on a plain of green wheat, close to a stand of saplings. After she rested for a few days, she started to gather twigs, dried leaves, straws

It's winter. The night shines over a fairy tale world: sugar-coated trees, crystal field, mirror-like pond. And throughout the wide surface, the lights in the sky's huge chandelier are turned on one by one, as in an immense dance room. The wild animals of the forest