"Soyuzmultfilm" presents
Hey, my laddies, ta-ra-rill! On a hilltop stands a hill,
On that hill is a meadow, On that meadow is an oak,
And on that oak is a crow.
That crow fancy red boots wears, Has gold earings in its ears,
That black crow upon the oak Plays a trumpet for good folk.
The trumpet's engraved, Gilded, well-behaved,
The trumpet's made well And its song sounds swell!
That was just a warm-up,
The real tale comes next:
THE TOPS AND THE ROOTS A Russian folk tale
screenwriter and director Leonid Nosyrev
art director Vera Kudryavtseva
composer Yevgeniy Botyarov sound Vladimir Kutuzov
camera Mihail Druyan montage Yelena Tertychnaya
assistants O. Volodina, N. Orlova, T. Sokolskaya
animators Aleksey Bukin, Yuriy Kuzyurin, Marina Rogova,
Vladimir Shevchenko, Yuriy Batanin, Aleksandr Mazayev
script editor Arkadiy Snesarev production director Lyubov Butyrina
narrator Valeriy Zolotuhin
There once lived a man at the edge of a village,
right next to the forest itself.
The man worked all spring, summer and autumn. He plowed the land,
sowed rye and wheat,
mowed hay
and harvested the crop.
In the winter, he wove bast shoes,
decorated spinning wheels and sleds,
and carved spoons and bowls.
And the man had no one except his faithful friend - his horse.
In the nearby forest lived a bear,
A lazy bear -
he didn't like to work at all.
But what he loved was to sit on a stump,
pluck a wood sliver and roar out songs.
Once, the man rode into the forest to sow turnips,
and as he rode he sang:
Here's a song that I'll deliver: A man went to Presnya River
Evening was near, Road short and clear...
I search wood for bee-logs runny, Want to taste myself some honey.
The bear heard the man's song,
and became angry.
He emerged from the grove and sternly growled.
How dare you, man, bother me while I'm playing on my stump?!
I'm gonna bash you up!
Don't bash me up, Mr. Bear!
Let's sow turnips together instead!
I'll be happy to take even... even the roots,
and I'll give you the tops!
Well, all right...
...but you do the work alone! I'd rather play on my stump!
Grow up, little turnip, Not thick, or thin turn up,
Like mouse's tail, Like roach nose frail!
As for you, dear bear: you watch that our turnips stay untouched!
Drive away both bird and beast, so on our tops they don't feast!
And with that said, he began to sing:
The ground we were plowing, plowing!
Plowing!
The ground we were leveling, leveling!
Leveling!
The turnips we were sowing, sowing!
Sowing!
The days passed,
the sun warmed the earth, the rains poured down,
The tops grew, and the roots grew too.
The bear was glad for the tops.
Man! Is it time to pull the tops?
It's not time yet, Mr. Bear.
Time passed.
Man! Is it time to pull the tops?!
It's not time yet, Mr. Bear!
The bear decided then to go and pull the tops up with his paw!
Hey, Mr. Bear, what are you up to?
I'm pulling the tops up!
What a fool you are! Look, you've crushed all the tops behind you!
When the time comes, they will grow up on their own!
Autumn came.
The turnips grew big!
Man! When is it time?
Now, at last, it is time!
Man, give me my share!
All right, Mr. Bear. Take it, as we agreed!
The tops for you, the roots for me!
Yours - mine.
Don't open your jaws for a top that ain't yours!
Hup!
Ai, do-do-dook! Ai, do-do-dook!
Bitter turnips don't you cook! Only sweet ones cook,
Tender, neat ones cook, Fragrant, swell ones cook!
Man,
where are you going?
I'm going to sell the roots!
Let me try a root.
Ah, man, you tricked me!
Your roots are sweet!
Don't go into my forest any more, or I'll bash you up!
Winter came.
The bear slept in his den, sucking his paw.
The man in his hut wove bast shoes and sang songs.
La-la-lee, la-lee-la-lee-la.
Spring came.
The bear crawled out of his den,
sat down on his stump, and roared from hunger:
On the swamp grass by the breeze Stands a jug of cottage cheese,
And a full bee-log runny Of real sweet honey!
The next year the man sowed rye.
He rode out to reap it,
but the bear was right there.
Man! Give me my share, or I'll bash you up!
So be it! What'll you have, Mr. Bear, the tops or the roots?
No, man, you won't trick me now.
Give me the roots, and you take the tops!
Don't open your jaws for a root that ain't yours!
Hup!
Vanya, Vanya, dumb as nails, Bought a horse without a tail,
Sat on it back to front And towards his garden went!
The knock-kneed bear tried the roots,
and swore off ever getting involved with the man again!
Meanwhile, the man ate rye cakes,
washed them down with bread drink, and sang a teasing song:
From the bear in his own wood I take berries and mushrooms,
The bear, sad grump, Froze on his stump!
Tsintsi-brintsi balalaika, Tsintsi-brintsi play some more, eh?
Tsintsi-brintsi I'll wrap up, Tsintsi-brintsi want to nap!
Tsintsi-brintsi good plan, friend, Tsintsi-brintsi done! The end!
THE END Subs - Niffiwan @ animatsiya.net, 2024