Entspannt einschlafen mit Märchen: Das Moorprinzesschen (Berthold Reichel) | Hörgeschichte, Hörbuch

The Moor Princess The village was located on a dune chain. The white-tinted, straw-covered houses looked out into the country in a friendly way, with white window panes. When the village children looked out here and pressed their noses against the panes, they saw the wide brown moor to the left, juicy green meadows to the right, and behind the moor and meadows, often shiny silver in the sunshine, the wide, flowing stream. But they also saw the Sandknoll, an isolated sand hill in the middle of the moor, and the little house that stood on it. They all knew exactly, in the little house, the Moor Princess lived with her old grandmother. The Moor Princess was not similar to the other village children than a cherry on a plum or a deer on a calf. It was so slim and delicate, and had such a fine, cute face, as if it were really a princess. That's why it got its name. All the people agreed that the grandmother would leave the child too much to be desired, and the teacher would still have his burden with him if he came to school on a Monday. Although it was always friendly and pleasant, it did not bother the other little children either. But it was so terribly wild. Did it feel good for a little girl that it chased through the meadows on the backs of young fowls, or that in winter it covered the sleigh with big dogs and rode through the village? And once, one should not have believed it, but Peter Jessen had told it himself, and he never lied. Once it had danced a formal ballet on the wide back of the huge village bull, which usually did not let anyone approach it. It sang in a funny way, while the cows stood all around in a circle and watched in amazement with their big, one-eyed eyes. The strangest thing about it was that the moor princess never touched anything with all these great pieces. And that the animals liked everything about it. Yes, that might have been surprising for the people, because they didn't know that the little one understood the language of the animals. So it came that, wherever the moor princess went, she met good friends and old acquaintances everywhere. If she came across the boats, there were the owls and swallows she could talk to. If she went into the cellar, the little mice came over to chat with her. If she entered the stable, she was greeted with goats and rabbits. And on the farm, there was a true cry of joy among chickens, ducks and geese. But on the meadows and the moor, her acquaintances were so numerous that she could hardly greet them all. When the moor princess once again crossed the moor alone one evening, she heard a wonderful concert from a reed. It took the long reeds apart and looked curiously through. There sat on the edge of a large, white moor cow, a whole row of green frescoes. They quacked to the heart's content. An old oak tree leaned over the cow, a cuckoo was playing music in it. A rain pipe, however, sat at the foot of the trunk and whistled in the softest tones. Ah, the moor princess! everyone called in amazement, when they saw the cute cuckoo looking into her hiding place. That's a wonderful coincidence! We're just missing a first voice. Friend Rain Pipe can't keep her alone. Soon the moor princess sat among them. And now it was sung and played that it was a joy. First they sang the song of the ringing reed, then that of the bees swarming around heather, then that of the blue enzyme, and so it went on until late in the evening. You could hardly see in which direction the sun had set, when the princess said goodbye to her friends and whizzed through white fog swaths into the sand dune. It exchanged a friendly word with the bat and then slipped in to lie down to sleep. From then on, the moor princess went to her musical friends every evening. A kibitz and a lark were also found, and now the mixed choir was complete. The frogs were basses and tenors, the cuckoo formed the alto, and the rest sang soprano. There was a concert that could not have been better for a warm summer evening. When the moor princess one evening again strolled through reeds and pipes, slipped into the romantic hiding place of her musical companionship, it was very surprising to find all the frogs sitting in the water to their necks. Ai, ai, what is bothering you again? it cried. You haven't become afraid of me, have you? Quack, quack, answered the green companions, because they hadn't read the Book of the Good Throne yet. Oh, quack, we're getting used to the humidity a little more again. It will soon be wet enough here in the surroundings. Just ask friend Kibitz. Yes, princess, said this one. Remember, when I was strolling around the dike quite late last night – I swam for nocturnal hikes, you know – suddenly the moon looked up, was completely red in the face, and called out to me, Hey, old screamer, how are you? Have you grown your boys yet? Can they fly yet? Thank you, I said briefly, because I was annoyed that he called me a screamer and my voice is clearly beautiful. That's clear, that's clear, the fresh ones screamed enthusiastically. Without caring for their company, Kibitz left. Well, I'm glad to hear that, said the moon. I should have felt very sorry for them. What do you mean, old night robber? I asked Sudan. He smiled politely, because he can tolerate a joke, and said, I would like to have a big, white mirror, in which I could look at myself quite properly. People say I have a crooked face, and when I look into the stream, it almost seems so to me, but I don't trust the stream. It is not even enough, and gives of everything that is reflected in the mirror only a frown. Yes, a big, white mirror, that's what I'm missing. Oh, I yelled, you don't think so? But there is still the dike in front of it. The dike? Bah, said the moon, I have already made an appointment with my fat west wind. You should see, there is a flood like we have never had here before. When Kibitz had come so far in his story, suddenly all the fresh ones, like on command, jumped out into the country with huge movements. Circles appeared on the white surface of the moor, and in the clear water one could see the slim, dark shape of a pike, which fletched its pointed teeth, quietly swam with its front fins, and with its greenish eyes, glanced at the jumping fresh ones. Immediately afterwards, it took its mouth out of the water, Did you say flood, friend Kibitz? And as the Kibitz nodded in agreement, it snorted with its tongue, grabbed very violently and cried, Oh, how nice! There is always a change in the meal. Always carcasses and fresh ones and fresh ones and carcasses. That hangs half to my neck. Such a decent flood brings new life into the waters. Red eyes and bleach, greenlings and perch, yes, maybe even mullet and carp. Well, I don't want to get too excited right away. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for the kind information. In the event of a flood for the first time, you have nothing to fear from me. Do you want the flood to swallow you in the middle of the village, you eater, that you would eat yourself? The frogs thought when they saw the pike shooting back into the depths. But they didn't say anything. For that, they all had respect for him. With the concert, nothing happened that evening. And the moor princess hurried home in a hurry. How would it be, grandmother, said it, if we slept upstairs that night. Upstairs, with the owl child? No, how do you come up with that idea? Yes, grandmother, there will be a big flood soon. Who tied you up, child? The kibitz. The kibitz, ha ha, now listen to me, the little moor witch, the kibitz, ha ha ha, the kibitz, no, how funny, ha ha. When the moor princess found that her grandmother had made fun of her so much, she didn't say anything anymore, but went to bed quietly. Still on the same evening, the moon tied the kibitz with many thousand silver beads. Then he pulled it into the land with irresistible force, so that the water on the dike was as high as the coffee in the cup when the half-blind grandmother had given it away. So, fat west wind, now go, he called it. And the west wind came and whipped the current with strong fists. Was this already the pulling of the moon against the line, so he was now in front of Ergaschirthol. He got angry and foamed, broke the dike, stormed through the meadows and bogs, and where he still found cows in the meadows, he shouted with a terrible voice, She, there is still a lot to go, Eat this cow, eat this cow! And the wild waves, of which everyone thought they were spoken, crashed like white, tearing polar wolves on the unhappy animals and swallowed them. For a moment they ran around the sand dune in great heat, the chickens, ducks and geese fluttered in terror and hurried to the village in a wild flight. Then they jumped into the door crying and Grandmother and the Moor Princess were glad that they could fly up to the ground together with their goats and rabbits just in time. And the current climbed up the stairs step by step and already he licked with his black, wet tongue greedily into the darkness of the basement to the bare feet of the Moor Princess. Oh, Grandmother, we will drown! this cried, croaked at Grandmother's lap and cried out in fear. But in front of the flight hole in the gable the owls sat and started with big, fiery eyes into the terrible uproar. Suddenly they began to shout loudly, No, it won't work! There is no entrance here! It's unbelievable with this cheeky rascal! She scolds us every day, shouts after us like street boys after the booze and now she comes here to beg for an apartment. No, go away, go away, you useless rascals! In between you could hear fluttering and pleading calls from Kuckuck and Kibitz. The Moor Princess calmed down and soon realized that it must be his friends who are begging for an entrance here. She said, You dear owls, don't let your overconfidence and misunderstanding get to you. They didn't mean it badly. You are the birds of wisdom, the smartest among the animals. I know, you give in, I don't need to beg you any longer. Then the owls were appeased and granted the guests an entrance. And they all came in, Kuckuck, Kibitz, the rain whistle and the moor. Kuckuck, here we are! Kuckuck called kindly. I'm coming, I'm coming! Kibitz shouted. Do you hear me? the moor, who liked to speak plain German, and the rain whistle, who wasn't so clever in high German, shouted, Kuckuck, here we are! The owls and the moor sat on the roof. They feel quite comfortable in such weather, added Kibitz, and really, you could hear their quacking even inside. The Moor Princess greeted her feathered friends warmly. Everyone came over and let their wet feathers slide in front of him. Then they asked, How are you doing in such weather, dear Moor Princess? Oh, answered this with a sad voice, I could fly like her or swim like the frogs. If the moon and the west wind don't have an eye soon, the angry current will swallow me along with my grandmother. The animals were very frightened. No, they shouted angrily, that mustn't happen. But how can we change it? cried the moor. The moon is a strange fellow when he has put something in his head once, and the west wind isn't much better. Everyone sat thinking sadly, until finally Kibitz shouted, Hooray, I know something, everyone come out on the roof, we want to reach the moon already. Then everyone rushed out through the flight hole, and not long after, they sat with their green comrades on the roof, which Kibitz played, and lovingly through night and stormy brew the song of the silver moon sounded. They all knew that this was the moon's favorite song, which he just loved to listen to. And so they had hardly started to sing when he had already stood astonished behind a cloud and shouted, Sssst, be quiet for a moment, weather, west wind. Then the west wind came with whistling and thunder inside, and he clearly heard the beautiful song, especially with otherwise only warm mild weather. When it was over, Kibitz shouted, Dear old moon, isn't your mirror big enough yet? Where are you thinking? laughed the moon. It must be at least three times as big. But the moon princess and her grandmother will drown if it gets any bigger, the birds complained. I don't care about that, said the cold moon. Go on, dear fat west wind. Stop, shouted Kibitz. Just for a moment, dear old moon. When you fulfill our request, we will sing your favorite song every evening, all three verses, and by the way, big enough is your mirror already light. You should only see that. The moon sat down for a short while and then said quietly, When fat west wind has agreed, I should be right. The west wind didn't want to be that weird either. They just had to sing a piece for him every evening, the song of the friendly west wind. Out of joy about his success, the little musicians wanted to tune in right away, when a angry, nasally voice was heard, which whispered, What, are you already tired, dear moon and dear west wind, or are you getting a little black? Just get back to it, the flood isn't big enough yet. Then one of the fresh ones hopped, he was called Rappelkopp, because of his tongue skills, with a mighty sentence, up to the ledge of the straw roof, just above the floor window. Quack, quack, quack-a-doodle-doo, don't quack in between, you old street robber, he shouted angrily, and his sound waves stood out mighty. As he stood, the fresh ones sat, so frightened they were about the coldness of their companions. They thought they had lost him, because like a torpedo from a pipe, the pike shot out of the water, swallowing the frog. But this one sat a little too high for him, and in his blind rage flew through the shattering floor window and clashed into the floor, right in the middle of the shivering rabbits. I'll eat you, I'll swallow you, he hissed and wailed that the village brats were flying in all corners and the rabbits were suffocating from it. Neither the mole princess nor the grandmother dared to come near him, and so he lay there and got angry until he was dead. In the meantime, the waves had moistened themselves outside, and it was really a magnificent mirror. But the moon shone in only fleetingly. He had had enough, because he only saw quite clearly how crooked his face was. He quickly hid it behind a cloud and had nothing more urgent to do than to ask the west wind to restore his shiny surface. The west wind smiled at him when he saw his father lying down and said, Yes, I can't do that, but I want to ask my brother east wind, he will do it. And the east wind rushed after him, and on the evening of the next day he had dried out everything again. Then he became very gentle and agile, and when he brushed through the reeds, he brought together the whole happy society in the cozy hiding at the moor cove, cuckoo, kibitz and lark, all the quacking frogs and finally the moor princess. Now she sings me a song after all, he whispered. Then they all sang gratefully the song of the whistling east wind. When the moor princess was already saying good night on that evening, the east wind was already singing the song of the whistling east wind. The east wind was already singing the song of the whistling east wind. When the east wind was already saying good night and wanted to go, Rappelkopf jumped up to her and snored very quietly. What did you have for lunch today, princess? The moor princess laughed a little and hurriedly ran away. But the animals were hardly alone, they were singing a song of the cooked pike. That went to the frogs from the bottom of their souls, because they were all happy to be rid of the dangerous robber. Then the moor princess was singing the song of the cooking pike. But now the forest was too large to remain silent. I composed music by Bach. So I have created this birdsong for those who want to play Didgeridoo or sing a song of the pickled pike. It is true day and night are coming together among midnight brooks and morning leaves, but I really don't, but, really don't want to