Z okazji Świąt Wielkanocnych wiersz amerykańskiego poety Dot McGinnisa.
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The Legend of Pussy Willows
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A Polish legend tells the tale
Of tiny kittens, oh, so frail.
Along the river's edge they chased.
With butterflies, they played and raced.
They came too close to the river's side
And, thus, fell in. Their mother cried.
What could she do but weep and moan?
Her babies' fate were yet unknown.
The willows, by the river, knew
Just what it was that they must do.
They swept their graceful branches down
Into the waters, all around.
To reach the kittens was their goal;
A rescue mission, heart and soul.
The kittens grasped the branches tight.
The willows saved them from their plight.
Each springtime since, the story goes,
Willow branches now wear clothes.
Tiny fur like buds are sprung
Where little kittens once had clung.
And that’s the legend, so they claim,
How Pussy Willows Got Their Name! |
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