Janek the Little Wanderer

I. JANEK THE LITTLE WANDERER

Would you like to meet a boy Who finds exploring such a joy, Who wandered over land and sea? Come hear how strange a trip can be! Now watch his face, his eager grin— Our Janek's tale will now begin! To little Janek, walls seemed tight, Though whitewashed clean and shining white. The roof of straw hung much too low. He thought, "I'll travel! Off I'll go, To see the world, both far and wide, Beyond the fields on every side. I'll cross the field's edge, then I'll go Past those tall poplars in a row, Across the stream, through fields nearby, To where the earth touches the sky!… But first, some bread and butter! Bye!"

II. ON THE STORK

And off he went! His house stood near The river, flowing cool and clear. A journey needs a ship to sail, As Crusoe shows us in his tale. Toward the river Janek sped And reached the steep, high bank ahead. Then who should Janek chance to meet? A stork upon his long, thin feet, A little fish held in his beak. Young Janek stopped and begged to speak: "Dear Mr. Stork, I'm on a trip. Where can I find a sailing ship?" The stork looked down, then made reply: "If these old eyes don't tell a lie— I lost my glasses, wading through The marsh last spring, which spoiled my view— We've met before! Now let me see: I brought you to your Mama's knee! You've grown so tall! You're off to roam? You're big enough to leave your home? No ships or boats are here for you, But here's what an old friend can do: I'll give you, sir, a friendly ride. Climb on my back! Sit here, astride." The stork flapped hard to start their flight. Well, what was Janek then to do? He hopped on, like a mounted knight, And off above the fields they flew!

III. BEHIND THE FENCE

Here's what a traveler finds is true: Traveling by stork? It just won't do! They'd barely crossed the river's flow And seen the village shine like snow When frogs croaked from the muddy ground. He clacked his beak and chased the sound. He dropped into the grass from flight: "Get off! I'll stop here for a bite!" You're lucky if he clacks his beak To warn you of the snack he'll seek! For if a frog should cross his track, He quite forgets who's on his back. He'll wade straight in to catch his prey And never ask what you might say! We each have places where we dine: A swamp is his; a house is mine. Young Janek soon grew tired of that: Wet feet, wet boots, each landing—splat! He jumped off when the stork flew low And gladly watched the creature go. Behind young Kasia's fence he stayed, Worn out by all the flights they'd made.

IV. IN THE ORCHARD

How hungry traveling makes you feel! How glad you are to find a meal! Young Kasia's bowl was filled up high With farmer's cheese. She wasn't shy: Though still so small, she ate her fill, As much as any grown-up will. A rooster darted at her spoon, Snatching her cheese; he'd empty it soon! The black hen grumbled, "I must lay Your eggs, yet get no cheese as pay? Ho, ho! You want my eggs, my dear? Then bring me cheese for breakfast here! I have my hungry chicks to feed!" Another hen flew in at speed. The flock rolled up as fast as it could: "What's Kasia eating that's so good?" Janek could see no meal in store, So off he went to look for more. An orchard grew beside the way. There Mrs. Marcin stopped to say, "My basket's full of apples. See? Choose any three you like—they're free!"

V. WITH THE SHEEP

Not wasting time, he strode ahead And ate his apples as he sped. He munched his apples with delight— Then strange cries gave him such a fright! His hair stood straight up on his head: What if fierce pirates lay ahead? For travelers sometimes meet that crew— Read Crusoe's tale; you'll find it's true. A lion gives a dreadful fright, A tiger, or a lynx, might bite. Such tales fill books on every page, With beasts that leap and roar in rage. Go on—or back? He shut his eyes; He didn't want to see it leap. But then—oh, what a great surprise! He'd only heard a flock of sheep! His heart grew brave; his fear took flight. He gave an apple, with delight, To one young shepherd girl, who pressed A motherless lamb against her chest.

VI. ON THE ROCK

"Oh, from this rock, how grand to see God's whole wide world spread out for me! The fields, the rivers winding blue, The sky that stretches out of view, Those misty hills that rise and fold, The shining sun, so bright and gold! The little birds that skim and glide Above the river, broad and wide, That cloud, which follows where winds blow And rocks across the sky so slow, The flowers and herbs below me raise Their little heads to meet my gaze!" So Janek thought. Then—crack!—he found His branch had snapped. Down to the ground He tumbled from his rocky stand, His little nose now plowing land…

VII. TO THE MILL

He said goodbye to all the sheep, Then ran through paths both rough and steep. What if a wolf should cross his track, Or even wolves—a whole fierce pack? Ho, ho! He wouldn't run away! A traveler must be brave, he'd say. To prove his courage, off he strode— Then hid behind a bush by the road. He sat and waited. Thieves in sight? He'd stab them all and win the fight! Or, if they chased him down the track, He'd run and never once look back! Then hoofbeats thundered down the road. His heart thumped like it might explode. The shouts and calls rang loud and clear: "The chief must have his robbers here!" Our hero shrank, his eyes shut tight, His neck pulled in, half dead with fright. He found the strength to beg relief: "Oh, mercy! Spare me, Mr. Chief!" His cry rang out from hill to hill; Then Franek's laughter answered back. From Marcin's house, bound for the mill, He led his donkey down the track. Our Janek laughed and jumped astride Old Floppy-Ears to take a ride. He pressed his heels: "The castle waits! I'm riding straight up to its gates!"

VIII. AT THE ROAD-KEEPER'S

A proper knight won't fuss at all; A forehead bump can't make him bawl. He pulled some bread out of his pack To keep his strength up on the track. He munched away with keen delight To be a stronger, braver knight. While chewing up the final bit, He saw a hut and stared at it. The keeper left his dog to stay And guard the hut while he was away. Then Janek gave a sharp command: "Your troops must yield! Don't make a stand! A fierce war's coming—fall in line! Surrender now! This fort is mine!" Before a moment passed, he'd won; His mighty deeds were quickly done. In armor, weapon in his paw, The beaten poodle stood in awe. Our Janek faced his troops with pride. "Attention! Order arms!" he cried.

IX. IN THE WATER

He dreamed of being in command, A corporal who conquered land. Just then the keeper came in sight— The poodle barked with wild delight! It jumped and bounced to greet its friend; And Janek's triumph met its end. A fine Napoleon he'd be With troops that bark and jump with glee! Two rascals with the keeper came; They soon were friends; he learned each name. Young Stach and Józiek asked, "Where to?" "Around the world!"—"We'll go with you! The meadow horseflies bite so hard— Let's stick together, on our guard!" They saw a boat upon the pond. Time for a voyage far beyond! Now Janek played Columbus, too, All set to lead his daring crew. They raised a shout, the valiant three: "Let's find America! Out to sea!" A boat's a boat—but getting in? That's where the trouble would begin. Stach, Józiek—both got in just right; But splash! Poor Janek dropped from sight. Without the keeper standing near, Who knows what might have happened here? He heard the children's frightened shout And raced to help the traveler out!

X. IN THE COTTAGE

The keeper, quick and young and brave, Dove in and swam just like a duck. He caught the boy he'd come to save And hauled him out with skill and pluck. A cottage stood nearby; he bore The dripping Janek through its door. The two boys followed at a run. "America? No thanks! We're done!" They dried him off, then did their best To dress him up in Józiek's vest And Stach's loose pants. They fit just right— Well, nearly! Nothing pinched too tight. While Janek's clothes hung up to dry, They served him breakfast, piled up high. The dumplings pleased him, bite by bite; The lady watched him with delight. And Maryś watched with curious eyes; Stach, on the bench, showed his surprise. The knife that cut each dumpling bite Seemed strange to him—it wasn't right! Stach used a wooden spoon instead; Just give him heaps to keep him fed! Our Janek soon forgot his plight; Adventures filled him with delight. Now dry and fed, he marched ahead To see where winding pathways led.

XI. IN THE FOREST

The sun beat down; he walked ahead. Far off, the woods' green branches spread. Another boy—heaven forbid!— Might find the forest dark and cold. But Janek never paused or hid; He strode beneath green oaks so old. Oh, how lovely all around! Flowers lift their heads from the ground, His feet sink deep in mossy beds; Fresh green surrounds him as he treads. A thousand birds sing everywhere; The trees all whisper words of prayer. Above, their leaves and sunlight spread A woven roof to shade his head. Where to look first? So much to see! A squirrel—zip!—runs up a tree. A bunny—swish!—bounds through the grass; Bright beetles glitter as they pass. A buzzing bee comes flying by; A cuckoo gives its cheery cry. A woodpecker taps at the bark, To find small bugs in cracks so dark. Young Janek runs about to play, Till tired out, he turns away. He wants to go—but where to go? He's lost the path! He doesn't know! He calls; the echoes of his cries Ring through thick trees that hide the skies. At last he lay in moss so deep And sobbed until he fell asleep.

XII. HOMEWARD

He dreamed that birds stood round his bed; A bunny sat up near his head. Then mushrooms popped up, plump and round, A little clump on mossy ground. His red hat changed! He saw instead A mushroom with a cap of red. He dreamed of meadows, green and wide; No forest trapped him deep inside. He wasn't lost or left to roam: There Tyras sat, his friend from home. "Tyras! Tyras!" Janek cries, Then leaps and rubs his bright blue eyes. It's not a dream! He looks around: His dog sits on the grassy ground. So home they went in sunset light, Across the fields, now gold and bright, To that dear roof of straw once more. What joy to see their cottage door! Mama calls out in joyful mood; And him? Just: "Food, Mama! Food!" I think I'd want my supper, too. Well—wouldn't you?