Jakob Streit

What Animals Say to Each Other30 Nature Fables in Rhyme

Jakob Streit has “listened” to conversations among animals through his quiet communion with nature.

He shares these with us in the form of rhyming verse to illustrate the variety and uniqueness

of some very delightful creatures.

When two so very different animals such as a squirrel and a toad start talking,

we can enjoy the poetry of their conversation as well as the humor. We get to know the creatures

through their differences and learn to love them for those differences.

Included also are several well-known animal fables.

With youthful dedication, thirteen-year-old Kilian Beck offers us some wonderful black and white drawings

so we can learn all the better what animals say to each other.

ISBN 978-1-936367-23-8

9 781936 36723838 Main Street

Chatham, NY 12037

1

Jakob Streit

What Animals Say to Each OtherThirty Nature Fables in Rhyme

translated from German by Nina Kuettel

with illustrations by Kilian Beck

2

Printed with support from theWaldorf Curriculum Fund

Published byWaldorf Publications

Research Institute for Waldorf Education38 Main Street

Chatham, New York 12037

@ 2013 AWSNA PublicationsISBN # 978-1-936367-23-8

Reprinted 2014

Jakob Streit * 1910 Kilian Beck * 1991

3

Butterfly and Cricket 5Ant and Snail 6Swallow and Fish 7Swallow and Sparrow 8Bee and Wasp 10Beetle and Bee 11Bumblebee and Spider 12Lizard and Blindworm 13Squirrel and Toad 14Owl and Bats 16Locust and Caterpillar 18Mosquito and Earthworm 19Rabbit, Mouse and Cat 20Squirrel and Cat 22Fish and Clam 24Lizard and Snail 26Glowworm and Toad 28Bat and Barn Swallow 30Blackbird and Mole 32Cow and Sparrow 34Cat, Mouse and Ravens 35Horsefly and Pig 36Horse and Donkey 37

Dove and Ant 38Fly and Ant 39Lion and Mouse 40Fly and Spider 42Kangaroo and Bear 44Stork and Frog 44Hedgehog, Snail and Tomcat 46

Table of Contents

4

5

Butterfly and Cricket

Butterfly flits, seesaws, and fluttersOver the meadow in bright, vivid colors.From its dark grotto Cricket creeps,So quietly down there, like all are asleep.

I must a little music play!There is no time to frit away.Life goes fleeting by, in haste;It tells me: Make music! No time to waste!

In that instant, with cithera wings,He tunes, like an instrument stringed,Harmonizing to the cricket choir,And sounding forth to bud and flower.

Butterfly sinks to petal and blossomWhere the nectar is simply awesome.On the ground the chirping’s incessant,A tiny bit shrill, but strong, not unpleasant.

Cricket looks up from down below,And sees all the colors just like a rainbow.Suddenly his song is mute and mum.Butterfly has spied a cute cricket chum.

“Lovely would be the tone of your wings,If only we could hear them sing!Dear Butterfly, play a tune for eventide,So that it’s heard in the valley wide!”

Butterfly softly whispers and sways:“Singing has nothing to do with my ways.My colors sparkle and shine away gloomEverywhere that flowers bloom.

“With your music I love to dance.It calls from afar and I must prance.My very short life is a jubilee,So let me dance. Play for me!”

He begins to play his cricket violin,And Butterfly dances the fairy ringTill dusk appears at the evening hour,And then she sinks in a sea of flowers.

Cricket plays on till deep in the night,Until the stars shine clear and bright.When the heavenly heights are all aglow,He crawls back inside his wee grotto.

6

Ant and Snail

Slowly, slowly Snail crawls like a sledge,Making her way through meadow and hedge.She has no feet or any legs,Just glides along on her slippery dregs.

Ant, so agile on the ground,Scurries and searches all around.He’s suddenly stuck with all six feet,Where Snail put down her gluey sheet.

With very great tugs Ant is unstuck at last,But that big, slimy slug will be sorry she passed:“You greasy, slippery, slithery lug,You clean off my legs, and don’t act so smug!

“You slinking, slacking pail of snail, Listen to me; or do I have to yell?!I gather pine needles, leaves, and grass for our nest.I bring berry juice for the little ones, only the best.

“You don’t even know how your children fare!You just lay your eggs and you’re out of there!”Then did Ant cease with his storm of words,For Snail, in her house, not one of them heard.

Inside Snail’s kitchen she was no sloth.She was just brewing up some new slimy broth:“Outside he can rant and rave for all time,But tomorrow I’ll need some more sticky slime.”

7

Swallow and Fish

Fish sprightly swims in a very clear lake.Swallow glides low in order to takeInto his beak the little mosquito,That sits on the surface, not quite incognito.

Little Fish thinks: ‘The air-fish so swiftly swims!’How much I would like with my strong finsAlso to fly so high in the airAnd grab myself some mosquito fare.’

As Swallow’s wing just skims the surface,Little Fish pleads with gusto and purpose:“Teach me to fly just like you!I want to be an air-fish too!”

A very great swish of the fishy tailAnd over the water a silvery trail;Splash! To the lake little Fish must return“No flying for me; that much I have learned.”

Swallow twitters and tweets and flutters:“Such a fish-wish I would never utter!Water is where you are meant to be.But swallows must fly above lake and sea.”

8

Swallow and Sparrow

Swallow climbs high in circles wide,Up to where wispy clouds abide.She cheerfully chirps, she loudly twitters,While up above the sunbeams glitter.

Sparrow hops low upon the ground,Pecking sparse crumbs that don’t abound.He scuttles here, he scurries there –Nothing but sand; no food anywhere.

He wings to a post and sits there crestfallen.The unwelcome fast has made him quite sullen.Swallow spies out a landing, although it is narrow,And sets herself down beside the grey sparrow.

Now Sparrow can freely grumble and complain.A sad “peep, peep” he says again and again.And Swallow advises: “Fly up high; climb and climb,To where the tasty mosquitoes whine!

“Just open your beak and swoop up the swarm,And that is the end of your hunger storm!Try it; hurl yourself to the sky; don’t be lazy.Pecking on the ground is just plain crazy!”

That sounded just fine to the little grey sparrow,Why should he use his beak like a harrow?He fluttered and flapped with his beak open wide, As Swallow signaled and then stepped aside.

But Sparrow’s keen, flurried, wing-flapping action,Drove the mosquitoes in every direction.One single, spindly leg of an insectWas all he could catch in his beak-net.

He quickly dived down and out of the fray.It was as if the Earth was trying to say:“You stay down here for a life of pecking.Sky was made for the swallows to soar in!”

With a cheerful “peep, peep!” and a flittering flutter,Sparrow made known that he loved his Earth mother,While Swallow hopped first to the right and then left,As she learned that everything had turned out for the

best.

9

10

Bee and Wasp

The day is hot! Down the Bee setsBy a brook and sucks in some wet.On the same, slippery rock Wasp alights.The little Bee greets him with great delight.

Wasp says: “Look at the Bee guzzling water!Not just sucking on paltry flower fodder With its meager nectar juice –So much trouble. What is the use?

“I gnaw on wood, and on fruit I feast.Here and there I steal something sweet.Gathering honey is pure, vexing drudgery.Only feather-brained bees would submit to such

slavery.”

Little Bee sees Wasp is trying to tussle.She slowly backs down without wetting her bustle.She buzzes her wings, her little legs quiver.She flies off the rock by the flowing river.

With the water she hurries back to her hive,And mixes it with nectar when she arrives.This will be food for all the young bees,And they all will be so very pleased.

11

Beetle and Bee

I am the pudgy, fat Beetle of May.I love to gorge on tender beech leaves.A heavy wind will blow me awayTo the apple tree in the space of a sneeze.

“May I indulge in this kind of leaf?Ach! Phooey! Your shoots are too spicy!You useless tree, I need some relief.And your flowers stink too, to put it nicely!”

Just then Little Bee lands nearby,And hears May Beetle’s angry words.“Do not slander these blooms with your cry,I hope dear Sun’s children your gripes

have not heard!”

“They add no girth to my big, thick tum!”Beetle grumbled, gyrated, and flew off with no word,To where leafy beech tree in the wind did hum.

On the rim of the apple bloom sits Little Bee,And caresses it with a delicate feeler:“May Beetle doesn’t know about honey so sweet,The golden sundrops more precious than myrrh.Be grateful, my dearest, flowery treat:You’re a bee’s springtime dream, irresistible lure.”

12

Bumblebee and Spider

Heavy with nectar plump Bumblebee flies,Home from the place where the green meadow lies.He grazes a treacherous spider’s web,And some of the threads are torn into shreds.

He makes a hard landing upon a thick log.He wants to rest – his mind’s in a fog.Now Spider thinks she’s caught a fly,But then sees the threads of her web all awry.

She yells at the Bumblebee – very indignant:“You chubby chump, what was your intent?Why have you torn my beautiful strands?Come here and explain. That’s a command!”

“You are only strong within your web.”At least that’s what old Spider Mother once said.Bumblebee cried: “Well, that’s just peachy!You sly layer of snares; just try and reach me!

“I was bringing home food, finding no fault,Till you and your strands to my progress put a halt.It’s a real shame that I’m vegetarian,Or you would be spinning up in spider heaven.”

“Cheeky, lumpy-legged creature” was her poisonous reply.

“I’ll bind you in rope clear up to your eyes!”She shot from her web as quick as lightning,Bumblebee turned and positioned for striking.

He used his stinger to stab Mistress Spider.Robbed of her senses, she was no longer a fighter.

13

Lizard and Blindworm

Blindworm, freshly hatched and still confused,Like a tiny snake in the grass she moves.Lizard sits upon a rock so warmAnd suns his scales and legs and arms.

Blindworm looks up and, seeing no other,Shouts, “I’m looking for my mother!Are you the one? Could you be she?Oh, please, come down and talk to me!”

Lizard shakes and rolls with laughter:“You really know nothing of such matters.I’m a boy with very quick feet.In me you will never your mother meet.

“Look up at the sky at what beams. Can you see?It’s the Sun that shines upon you and me.That is the Great Mother of all the Earth,Who keeps animals alive from their birth.”

Blindworm blinked at the blue, shining sky,Although it slightly stung her eyes.She tasted the air with her delicate tongue,Her very first greeting to gold Mother Sun.

Bumblebee flew on his way. Spider shakily crawled,Tried not to fidget, felt like she’d been mauled.

Her body was burning from the venom so stout.She just had to wait and to sweat it all out.“My dear, spider mother was not wrong:Only within my web am I strong!”

14

Squirrel and Toad

Bite into the pine cone to get out the seeds;Throw out the rest that she doesn’t need.That is Squirrel’s favorite kibble:Softly, softly, nibble, nibble.

She has had enough of her eating spree.Now sits long upon the branch of a tree.To the beech tree she makes a nimble leap,And searches the ground for seeds she can reap.

There she finds a very large haul.She gathers the good ones, dirt and all;Throws them into a hole she has made,The winter root cellar will come to her aid.Little paws cover them with earth and leaves,Soon it will be Winter’s Eve!

An old tree trunk is her resting place,When there’s a startled jump, straight up in space!Under the murky roots of the trunkSits old Mister Toad in a slimy funk.

His cantankerous mood is plain to hear:“What a bother you are. Get out of here!Your whirling around is disturbing my peace!I really don’t need this, I really don’t – sheesh!”

Squirrel musters her cheerful thoughts,And speaks now to Toad just like she ought:“Dear, good, old slimy uncle!I would never bury nuts by your house,If I tried to get them, you’d grumble and grouse.”

A spring and a hop to the treetop with glee,She happily cradles herself in the tree.Toad is upset: “Those pesky tree folk,Bringing chaos to my still, dreamy moat.”His crooked legs folded, he sinks down in the loam:“Life couldn’t be better – just leave me alone!”

15

16

Owl and Bats

Owl sits upon an old stone wall,Tensely waiting for squeaky Mouse to call.The Moon shines bright and friendly, too.Owl answers Moon: “Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo!”

What is that fluttering, flittering sound?What’s whirring and stirring on the cliffs all around?Little black bats with their thin, dry wings,Their ghostly flight makes the hills seem to sing.

No more peace for the Owl; it’s over in a nick,Because of the bat pack’s shabby tricks.Eyes rolling in anger, with a “hoo-hoo-hoo!”Owl hisses at the bats: “I’ll get you!”

Owl lifts off, wings flapping like mad,To bring down those bats would make his heart glad.Around the pine needles he circles in flight.He can hardly wait to give them a bite.

To hunt the bats and be hot on their trail,Well, even Owl can miserably fail.

He tries to grab them with his claws, Or break them in his beak like straws,But all he can catch is empty air.

His ears, his eyes, they all take the hits.Those dirty bat wings are giving him fits.Owl escapes to the cover of forest.The squeak of a mouse is what he hears next.

“This will be much easier catch And I can dine comfortably back on my branch.”What has Owl learned? What’s his lesson, you say?When hunting bats, best stay out of their way!

17

18

Locust and Caterpillar

Long-legged Locust sits on a leaf,Where the full summer sun gives no relief.It does her good; one slim leg she does raise,To slide down her wing as she softly plays.That locust sound – a wonderful noise,Nothing else in the world gives her such joy!

Up the green leaf Caterpillar climbs,Comes very close to the monstrous whine.Locust stops playing and, instead of a greet,Just stares at his lacking of legs and feet:

“Did a bird peck your little legs off? Oh, what a crime!Just look up and see how lovely are mine!No creature in the meadow comes close to these.You poor, footless thing, I don’t mean to tease,But I play the long-legged locust song!A long-legged locust can do no wrong.”

A crack and a whir! Locust is gone.Preening elsewhere with her legs so long.Caterpillar secretly smiles within,As Sun sings a song just for him:“Soon you will flutter your butterfly wings,And happiness to all the flowers you’ll bring.”

19

Mosquito and Earthworm

Tiny Mosquito dances in the last rays of Sun,Before it sinks away and the day is done.Now Mosquito turns to the EarthAnd searches the garden for a place to berth.

What is that grating and grinding below?Who’s tossing dirt to each side as he goes?!It is round, fat Earthworm crawling along.Why doesn’t he speak? Is he mute? What is wrong?

Little Mosquito did not even tremble.Worm slowly stretched long; but not very nimble.“Without any legs, how can you walk?And also, no eyes! Are you able to talk?”

Earthworm gurgled softly, softly:“I unhurriedly search for water; just watch me.I’m on a slow, comfy trip;I undulate: arch up, then dip.”

While Earthworm was arching and then again dipping,Tiny Mosquito inquired without thinking:“Upon your back I wish to ride;Until you find water I will abide!”

Did he say “Yes”? I believe so.She put her thin legs on Earthworm’s torso.Now the fun can really begin:Up and down like an accordion!

20

Rabbit, Mouse and Cat

Rabbit hops out from the bushy trees,Headlong to the garden, quick as you please.He stops to sit and look around, twitches his ears:Is that a sound that he hears?

He loves the cabbage, green and sublime.Nibbling on them is his favorite pastime.But next to that, by a giant carrot,Mouse is noshing with very keen effort.

Rabbit is frightened by the sound,He listens if cunning Fox or Hunter is around,Trying to sneak up on him while he eats.So he stays very still; nary a squeak!

Mouse heard something too:“Oh, you Cat! I will elude you!I will sit very still right by this carrot.If anything moves I surely will hear it.”

Though Rabbit was listening and listening,He heard only the distant brook rushing.“The air seems so quiet, the air seems so good!Now I can dig into this fabulous food.”

He sank his teeth deep in the juicy kraut,And tore a hefty piece right out.Mouse thought that Cat was ready to spring.With a startled squeak, she fled from the thing.

Rabbit thought: “Hunter’s pellet whistled by!”My, the way he ran, it was like he could fly.Safe in her hole, Mouse finally pausedAnd rubbed her whiskers with her little paws:

“I escaped from her clutches yet again.You devilish Cat: I’ll always win!”

21

22

Squirrel and Cat

Under a hazelnut bush Squirrel enjoys her snack;Bites into a second nut and sees there’s no lack.The white and grey Cat is on the prowl.He peeks under the bush and says: “Meow! Meow!

“What is under here that I can eat?Hey you, Squirrel-cat, this is my beat!I’ve made my stinky mark very clear.No strange animal can bother me here.”

Tomcat fluffed his tail, bushy and thick,Sharpened his claws, his skin all a-twitch.Chin on the ground, he’s ready to pounce:“That little tree dweller – I’m going to trounce!”

Crack! Cat’s head and a nut did collide;Very well aimed, but annoyed, Cat let it slide.The hair on Cat’s tail became smooth once again.Squirrel is full, so she giggled and grinned.

She called out to Cat in a right cheerful way:“Hey, Claw-foot! Catch any mice today?Hazelnut bush covered these nuts all for me.I was so happy to make their discovery.

“I’ll cover them up with a mantle of earthAnd, during the time of cold winter’s dearth,I’ll dig them up, my hunger to smite,To get through the hard season and stay in the fight.”

Tomcat cocked his head and without even a “g-r-rrr,”He thought: ‘All winter long I lay ’round and purr,Next to a warm stove in a cozy room. Boys and girls pet me, and no hunger looms.

‘My food is served in a colorful dish.It’s true, I have all I could wish.Soon the cold wind will blow in the grate,And the mice for the winter will hibernate.

‘So let little Squirrel bury her forage;I see now she needs it for storage.Soon we will feel the first winter snow.After all, my head never really hurt, you know.’

He tiptoes away as if nothing is wrong.Squirrel sees: Tomcat is gone!

23

24

Fish and Clam

Little Fish swims by moving its fins;Up and down he floats and spins.What’s that I spy? Is that a stone?With no fins or legs of its own!

Look! The stone, it’s opening a crack.If it breaks up like that, can it be put back?Little Fish wiggles and darts to the place,In order to see if that rock has a face.

Suddenly the crack closes up tight.Who’s living in there? Who took a fright?That’s no rock. It’s a house, in which to hide.“Hey you! Come on outside!

“You can admire my scales, all glittery, sleek!”“Don’t have eyes,” Clam did speak.“What’s all in there, inside your shell?”“Here inside I can color so well.

“I paint my dreams into my shell.Come and look; ’tis my raiment and clothes me well.”Clam opens up a crack like a smile,And little Fish sees what she’s painted this while:

Beautiful colors, shimmering, bright:Green, red, blue – a lovely sight.It looks like a rainbow at the waterfall!Suddenly Clam closes her shell again.She needs to find rest from the noisy din.

Outside she’s just a sandy, grey hue,Inside all colorful: green, red, and blue.Her dreams are marvelous, rainbow pastels,All inside her quiet, cozy clamshell.

25

26

Lizard and Snail

Snail’s feelers placidly touch a stone.She goes so softly with no legs of her own.Lizard whistles by; he is no slouch,Crinkles one little feeler. Oh, ouch! oh, ouch!

Shocked little Snail pulls all feelers in.Lizard sits sunning his back on a whim.Snail sits resting in her quiet house,But after a while she comes out to grouse:

“Did you do that? You cheeky dolt!You bent my horn flashing by like a lightning bolt.If you want to go racing on all four legs,Then leave us snails in peace,” she begs.

Lizard replied: “You smeared up my rock this time,With your gluey, awful, sticky slime.This lovely rock is my very own place.From here I survey the surrounding space.I walk a hundred times faster than your kind;So up here let me rest and unwind.”

Snail doesn’t really feel like fighting.Let Lizard keep running, she will be gliding.Her horns she pulls in – one, two, three, four –And dozes while thinking of Lizard no more.

27

28

Glowworm and Toad

Glowworm crawls with her lantern so small,Around the flowers; she loves them all.Shining in the still, summer nightWhile the stars in the sky also shine bright.

Glowworm holds her lantern high;A tribute to the brilliant sky.‘Yes, they are my sisters; that is sure.They give of their glow, so brilliant and pure.’

Upon a rock the glowworm rests.Toad creeps along by her stony nestAnd beds down snugly in the spongy moss.Glowworm thought: ‘My light won’t make him cross.’

“How can you sleep in that dingy, damp mess?Shall I shine some light into your darkness?”But Toad did not like the sound of that.Annoyed, his answer was more of a spat:

“What gives you such a silly idea?!” he cries.“Your glimmering glow stings my eyes!You will only disturb my lovely, dim slumber.Why would you offer your light, I wonder?”

He spat toady poison at the greenish light,Almost putting it out, but not quite.Glowworm whispered: “I’ll carry my lamp for the

flowers,And greet the stars in the dark, nighttime hours.”

Toad grumbled: “Just pack up and go, right back to the sky!

It would be terrible – Oh my! Oh my! –If they all had a mind to come down to the ground.Get out of here! I don’t want you around!”

Glowworm thought: ‘I’m much happier shining and winking

For flowers, elves, gnomes who give thanks without thinking!’

She crawls away from the mossy danknessAnd gives the dark meadow her green brightness.

29

30

Bat and Barn Swallow

Barn Swallow wants to build her nest, nice and small.She found a good place in the chink of a wall.“It’s just like a little cave in here;My home-sweet-home, at least for this year!”

Dusk was approaching; she was asleep by half,When her little head got a blow from the aft.In her anger she pecked all around.The rude disturber of peace must be found.

But her little beak only grated on rock,So, after a while, sleep clothed her like a frock.It was Bat, who seemed to flit out in the night.He clipped her with his wings and gave her a fright.

Morning dawned; Swallow was awakened by a shout.Bat had come home to his little hideout.Barn Swallow scolded: “This cave belongs to me!”Bat answered: “That simply can’t be! I’ve lived here a year – already!”

Barn Swallow simply could not let it go:“No way am I letting you run the show!I can peck you until you bleed!I have a sharp beak and the courage I need!”

Little Bat hissed: “And I too can bite!I’ll not leave this cave without a fight!”For just a while it was deathly still,Each wanting the other to bend to their will.

Suddenly Barn Swallow whispered quite urgently:“Bat, you’re only home in daytime, don’t you see?I fly out in the world all the long day.Only at night do I need somewhere to stay.

“So, both of us truly can live here in peace.No pecking, no biting, all fighting will cease.We’d each say good evening and good morning too,And live here like friends, just me and you.”

31

32

Blackbird and Mole

Blackbird sits in the beech tree and singsHer greetings to morning Sun she brings.She happily trills up toward the light.Something moves at her feet, just out of sight.

Her singing stops. She peers below her legs.Who is that hatching out of Earth’s egg?‘Just like my young ones not many days by.I’ll help with my beak to bring the hatchlings nigh.’

She flutters down to the hill of the Mole;Scratches with her feet and pecks out a hole!Mole pokes out his head into the day bright,Breaks through the dirt; his nose hits the light.

He sneezes and sniffles into the fresh air.Startled, Blackbird at first can just stare:“Are you an earth bird freshly hatched?Come on out and see where you’re at!”

Mole blinks and blinks his small, beady eyes,Crawls out halfway and mutters surprise:“Look! my pointy nose, it snoops out worms!And my shovel-feet the earth dig and churn!

“Inside the dark earth is my kingdom dwelling.Eating worms is my greatest calling.Sometimes I dine on beetles and bugs,And also on root-eating grubs.In darkness, I forget the world of light.”

Blackbird felt funny; something wasn’t quite right.‘What a strange creature,’ she thought (not aloud).“Don’t you see the red morning clouds?And the golden rays of the Sun? It’s not night!

“I nearly forgot my morning song!I must get back to my branch. So long!”

Mole thinks to himself: ‘Are the crazy ones loose?!This world up here really cooks my goose!’Back down in his hole, in the cool, dark damp,The King of Worm-eaters needs no lamp!

33

34

Cow and Sparrow

Cow grazes the meadow under skies so blue.Mmmm, Mmmm – Moo, Moo!Grass and herbs she chomps and chews.Mmmm, Mmmm – Moo, Moo!

She plops down heavy upon Earth Mother,And peacefully chews with nothing to bother her.City Sparrow alights on a branch,Whistles and hops his little dance.All at once Sparrow sees the very big Cow.Something he’d never seen until now.

Upon the branch he sharpens his beak tip.From up there he feels ready to give her some lip:“Hey, chunky grass eater, you meadow stomper, you.Look up and listen; you’ll get a clue:

“It’s a good thing you have no wings to flap.Tree branches would break, and that’s a fact.You whopping, lazy barrel of grass,Do you really never fast?!”

Cow felt something in her ears like a twinge.She thinks it’s too much – that shrill, peeping binge.So she gets herself up and lets out a bellow!Turns toward the barn and walks away from Sparrow.

Rude little Sparrow flies off in a fright.The farmer milks Cow and beds her down for the night.In the bucket the milk has a lovely, white foam.How the children will love it when they get home.

35

Cat, Mouse and Ravens

Two black Ravens stare at orange-striped Cat.They sit above a field and have their little chat.Cat is hunting Mouse, tiny and grey.The Ravens are bored, as is often their way.

But right when Cat catches a scent of Mouse,Someone comes running, right out of the house.“That little, grey thing; let’s polish it off. Then about the huntress we can laugh and scoff.Hey, Brother Raven, try from the left;I’ll come from the right, we’ll be very deft.”

Orange-stripey Cat has a hunch,So she gets in position, Mousey to crunch.Look there! The little grey scampers away.Pounce! – pinched under Cat’s paw like a lump of clay.

One Raven on the left, the other on the right!Cat is wildly angry and ready to fight.Raven feathers with her claws she plucks.Ravens flee – and so does Mouse. Bad luck!

Mouse hurries and scurries back into her hole,Very much shaken but glad to be whole.‘Cat and two Ravens! In my triumph I can bask.Now, who polished off whom, may I ask?’

36

Horsefly and Pig

Horsefly rested on rocks and leaves,But still no blood its thirst to appease.Blood it would suck – from horse, man, or cow.Even pig’s blood would do it good somehow.

Cow’s fringy tail gave Horsefly a whack.It landed right smartly upon Pig’s back.This piggy was meaty with a thick layer of fat.He stabbed between bristles and dirt and all that.

Poor Sow’s head couldn’t reach to her hock,And her small, curly tail was no more use than a rock.After the first bite, then came the next.Little Pig thought: ‘Horsefly has me vexed!’

So she rolled around in the gooey, pig slop –Very useful to make pesky flies stop.Horsefly fell and was buried right then.His blood-sucking ways had come to an end.

Then Pig stood up and munched cabbage kraut.She knew that comfort was all it was about.Blissfully, she lay down in the warm sunlight,And thought that life was such a delight.

37

Horse and Donkey

A valiant steed with his rider companion,Chased through the fields with wild abandon.At a farm they did stop, both man and beast.For Rider and Horse wanted to feast.

Donkey nibbles his straw nearby.His eyes say it: “What a poor boy am I.”He looks around at the beautiful steed,And thinks: ‘Next to that, I’m a poor one indeed!’

He ignores his food, puts his nose to the ground:“Has the Creator forgotten that I’m even around?He made me so grey and scruffy and shaggy,And carrying loads makes me so very crabby.

“When I want to rest, I feel the whip’s crack;All day I must carry heavy sacks on my back.Just thistles and straw, that is my pay.How in the world can I get full that way?”

With tired gait Donkey plods to the water trough.When Horse comes running with his mane aloft.Both of them drink from the water at once,Standing closely together, rump next to rump.

Then Horse starts to speak: “You, little friend,How soft you are from shaggy end to end!And your wonderfully long ears,Truly, you were born to hear!

“Look, here comes my master with food;Even though he’s a man, he’s been very good!Just come now with me, you can also have some.He loves you too – I’m not the only one.”

Donkey follows Horse, although with great doubt,To where the man pours delicious oats out.Side by side stand Donkey and Horse,And eat till their hunger has run its course.

The rider pats Donkey’s neck, he is content,And rubs his ears – pure enchantment!And so the day ends with no sadness or strife –The most magnificent day in grey Donkey’s life!

38

Dove and Ant(Theme from La Fontaine)

Dove is sitting by a little creek,To drink some water cool and sweet.Ant comes floundering by in the current.Would he drown? What torment!

Dove quickly flies and picks up a leaf,Throws it in the water to give some relief.Ant is able to get a gripAnd reach the bank without a hitch.

By the beech tree he sees a man with a gun!Ant hurries up there as fast as he can run.The man aims for Dove, sitting on a branch.Taking a nap, she wouldn’t have a chance.

So Ant takes a stab at the man’s foot that is bare.He flinches – then fires, misses by a hair. Startled, Dove flies far, far away.Helping Ant saved them both on this day.

39

Fly and Ant(Theme from La Fontaine)

Fly sits down right next to Ant,Who is carrying a stick that she almost can’t.Fly pokes fun: “You poor packhorse.I love my life – yours couldn’t be worse.

“I land upon the heads of royaltyAnd do not leave till they slap at me.If I want, I can kiss their neck and necklace,And come and go as I please in their palace.

Things could not be better. This is the best!”Ant replies to Fly, the preening pest:“But also you’ve sat upon a steaming cow pile;I hope you enjoyed the juicy manure all the while.

“Blow flies like you are slapped at and swatted.People chase you out because you’re not wanted,While I quietly carry my stick to the nest.And tonight? – We’re having a fest.”

40

Lion and Mouse(Theme from La Fontaine)

Lion is taking a midday catnap,His sleepy eyes closed shut like a trap.Up scurries Mouse and tickles his paw:One swipe of that paw could be the last thing

Mouse saw.

But look! Lion is enchanted with her.So softly with his paw does he cover.Little Mouse squeaks in fear,And thinks she will be eaten here.

But look! Lion is setting her free!Little Mouse was too small for a meal.So she runs and escapes, back into the woods.Lion has been really exceptionally good.

Next day Lion is caught in a net.He’s tied up as tightly as tight can get.His whining and wrenching, his wailing cries,Make the Mouse curious to go and see why.

On the rope the little Mouse chews.It tears! Lion is free without much ado.Lion thanks Mouse as best as he’s able.Yes, animals often are truly quite noble.

41

42

Fly and Spider

I am the wonderful, rotund Fly.When upon the cow patty I lie,I always feel very good,Sucking manure juice like I should.

Otherwise, I fly into the farmer’s kitchen.Upon the table my proboscis is itchin’To graze upon the cheese and bread.I have never felt hunger’s dread.

People often swat at me,But then I just very quickly flee.It’s so funny – those useless tries,To get the best of us flies.

There is one thing I fear above all:If into a spider’s web I should fall.Once I was able to tear it a might,And the spider lost out on a bite.

But out by the barn door,Garden Spider weaves her web, strong and sure.Fly buzzes around it like any fly does;He gets stuck in the web: buzz, buzz, buzz.

Spider speeds to Fly, lightning fast,And swathes that fly before seconds have passed.Shackles his wings and spindly legs too;Spider’s alone but works as quickly as two.

Strangely weak Fly becomes.Oh, my stars – what has Spider done?No more buzzing, no more winging;Stock still is Fly from Spider’s stinging.

“Though this life from me you take,Somewhere else I’ll fly again. Make no mistake.”

43

44

Kangaroo and Bear

Bear is asleep during the midday heat,Dreaming about a nice, fat sheep.With very long jumps Kangaroo comes close,Eats leaves from a bush and disturbs Bear’s doze.

“You brash little chap, you woke me!I had just stretched out to take my ease!”Kangaroo wiggled his ears:“You’ve lost something at this bush, it appears.I’ve been coming here for many days,Dining on leaves as is my way.”

Bear stands up, puts up his bear claws.He wants to punch this stranger in the jaw.“Go on, do your best, you raggedy pelt of fur!As soon as your arm is raised, I’ll be gone in a blur!”

Before Bear can take his stance,Kangaroo has fled into the distance.Bear stops short with his claws held high.He marvels: ‘How he jumps in great, wide arcs –

Oh, my!’

Stork and Frog

Storks like frogs very much.Unfortunately, they like them best for lunch.As soon as Stork is getting close,All the frogs abandon their posts.

All happy croaks are left unsung:“Will he get me, or are you the one?”Only the dragonflies are softly buzzingBy the pond, and beetles are humming.

Snap! One of the croakers has been caught.Stork swings up her beak, with happiness fraught,So that Frog is thrown in a high arc,And lands in the thick reeds with a plop.

How lucky! No flapping bird can get in there.‘Do I still have all four legs – still two pair?Yes, yes! In the high reeds I can croak my valiant song.Nothing can find me here – not even Stork with her

legs so long.’“Croak, cro – aaa – kk!“Croak, cro – aaa – kk!”

45

46

Hedgehog, Snail and Tomcat

In front of the house is set a brown bowlOf creamy milk for Tomcat from kind Mrs. Cole.But Tomcat is lazing in the sunlight;Drinking in the warmth – what a delight!

From out the garden bushes Hedgehog slinks,Sniffing around for something to drink.He waddles around on short, stubby feet,To the milk bowl, filled, all white and sweet.

Snail, too, smells the lovely scent;At a leisurely pace to the milk it went.Peacefully the two drink side by side,Not bothering anyone – nothing to hide.

Now Tomcat wakes up and both of them spies;He’s very cross with rolling green eyes!“Meow! Meow. Who’s gobbling my snack?I’ll show you the might of my claws with a whack.”

But when Tom smacks down on poor Hedgey’s spines,The needles he hits make him whimper and whine.You can hear Tomcat’s “Meow!” as he runs ’round the

corner,While Hedgehog turns to his gentle Snail partner:

“There are creatures who want to share nothing with others;

But let us two travel in peace, just like brothers!You can stay living, all snug in your little house;While, drowsy with milk, I will snooze, quiet as a mouse. Adieu!

47

Jakob Streit

What Animals Say to Each Other30 Nature Fables in Rhyme

Jakob Streit has “listened” to conversations among animals through his quiet communion with nature.

He shares these with us in the form of rhyming verse to illustrate the variety and uniqueness

of some very delightful creatures.

When two so very different animals such as a squirrel and a toad start talking,

we can enjoy the poetry of their conversation as well as the humor. We get to know the creatures

through their differences and learn to love them for those differences.

Included also are several well-known animal fables.

With youthful dedication, thirteen-year-old Kilian Beck offers us some wonderful black and white drawings

so we can learn all the better what animals say to each other.

ISBN 978-1-936367-23-8

9 781936 36723838 Main Street

Chatham, NY 12037