The Green Bird

Once upon a time there was a man. He had a son and a daughter whose mother had died. They had a neighbor who was a widow, and every day she kept after the children, putting ideas in their heads.

"Tell me," she would say, "doesn't your father intend to get married?"

"No, not yet," they would answer.

"Why, then, don't you say to him," she would urge, "'Father, marry our neighbor.'"

"Father," they would go to him and say, "marry our neighbor."

"Children, you're still too young," he would answer. "If I get married now, your aunt will beat you. When you're older I'll marry again." And to his daughter he would say, "I'll wait until you're old enough to fill the water jug."

The girl would then go to the woman and say, "Such and such says my father." And the neighbor would go fill the water jug [at the spring], bring it to their house, and urge the girl to say to her father, "Father, I'm now old enough. I've filled the water jug. Marry our neighbor."

"I'll marry when you're old enough to knead the dough," the father would say. "When you're old enough to bake the bread. When you're old enough to cook." Whatever chore he mentioned, the neighbor would come to the house and do it, and the girl would go back to her father and say, "Father, here! I've done this and that. Marry our neighbor."

Eventually the man did marry the neighbor, and she turned against the children and beat them.

One day her husband said, "Wife, by Allah, we've got a craving for stuffed tripe."

"Bring the tripe," she answered, "and we'll cook it."

He went and got the tripe, and she scrubbed and cleaned it and put it on the fire. Her husband was plowing in the fields. After she had placed the food on the fire, she set to sweeping the floor. She swept a stroke or two and thought to herself that she might as well check 'and see if the food was ready. She picked up a foot and ate it. Another stroke or two with the broom, and again she said to herself, "Let me poke the food and see if it's ready." She picked up a portion of the tripe and ate it. By the time she realized what she was doing, she had eaten up the whole meal, leaving nothing behind.

"Yee!" she cried out. "The Devil take me! What's he going to do to me now? Soon he'll be home from plowing, and what's he going to eat? By Allah, I think he'll kill me. He'll blacken my face. Hey, you! Go call your brother right away."

The girl cried, knowing what the woman was up to.

"What do you want with my brother, aunty?"

"I'm telling you to call your brother. And, by Allah, if you don't call him, I'll kill you right now."

The girl went out, calling:

"Hey, brother! Come and don't come!

Come and don't come near!

For you they've sharpened the knives

In front of the shop doors."

Coming back in, she said, "O aunty! I haven't been able to find him."

"I'm telling you to call him," the woman snapped back. "Quick as a bird! Otherwise, I'm going to slaughter you."

Back out went the girl, and she called:

"Hey, brother! Come and don't come!

Come and don't come near!

For you they've sharpened the knives

In front of the shop doors."

This last time the woman said, "I'll kill you if you don't bring him." Finally the sister called her brother, and he came.

Taking him inside, the woman locked the door. She slaughtered him, cut him into pieces, and cooked him just as she would cook tripe and in the same pot. The other one sat crying and crying, but the woman said to her, "Consider yourself dead if you speak to your father or anyone else."

The father came home from plowing, hungry.

"Did you cook the tripe, wife?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

Setting the pot down, they cut pieces of bread, poured the sauce over it, piled the meat on top, and set to it.

"Come, girl," the father urged his daughter. "Eat!"

"I don't want any," she said.

"How can you not want any?" he asked. "Eat!"

"No, father," she replied. "I'm full. I've just taken some food and eaten."

"Leave her alone!" his wife cut in. "What do you want with her? All day long she's been hanging about and eating."

"All right," said the father. "But where's your brother? Doesn't he want to eat?"

"He just ate and went out to play," answered the wife: "When. he comes back, even if it's midnight, I'll give him some food."

From that day on, the man would set out for the fields with his team early in the morning and come home late in the evening, tired. He would • ask about the boy, and his wife would say he had just eaten and gone out to play.

Now the sister, after they had finished their meal, took the bones and dug a hole and buried them at the edge of the garden. And every morning she would sit by the place where she buried the bones and cry and cry until she had no more tears. Then she would go home.

One day there was a wedding at a neighbor's house. Her father, her stepmother, and all the girls. [in the neighborhood] put on their best clothes and went to the wedding. "Now that nobody's around," she thought to herself, "I'll dig up the bones and look at them again." She went and dug and (so the story goes) found a marble urn. She dug deeper, unearthed it, and out of it flew a green bird. And what else? The urn was full of gold bracelets, tings, and earrings. There was also a dress, which was something to look at. Putting it on, the girl set out for the wedding wearing all the jewelry. Everyone noticed her, admiring the clothes and the jewelry, but no one recognized her.

In a while, as the wedding procession moved along, a green bird came circling over the head of the bride. He sang:

"I am the green bird

Who graces this gathering!

My stepmother slaughtered me

And my father devoured me

Only my kind sister

(Allah shower mercy on her!)

Gathered up my bones

And saved them in the urn of stone."

"Look! Look!" they all shouted. "There's a bird, and it's speaking!" They forgot about the wedding procession and turned their attention to the bird.

"Speak, bird!" they clamored, "Speak again! How beautiful are your words!"

"I won't say anything more," he replied, "until that woman over there opens her mouth."

His stepmother opened her mouth, and he dropped a handful of nails and needles into it. She swallowed them, and behold! she died.

"Speak bird!" urged the crowd. "Say morel How beautiful are your words!"

"I won't speak again," he answered, "until that man over there opens his mouth." His father opened his mouth, and the bird dropped a handful of needles and nails into it. He, too, fell dead.

Again the crowd urged the bird. "Speak, bird! How beautiful are your words!"

"I won't say more," he answered, "until that girl over there opens her lap."

His sister opened her lap like this, the bird landed on it, and behold! he turned into a boy again. Her brother had returned as he was before, and they went home and lived together.

This is my tale, I've told it, and in your hands I leave it.

10.