Once upon a time there lived a husband and wife. They lived together for many years, but had no children. One night my wife had a dream.
“Good woman,” an unfamiliar voice told her, “your wish will come true.” You will give birth to twins - two girls. And you will call them: one – Kakula, the other – Kabasa. Now get for them two clay pots made of black clay Pun-go-Andongo and two baskets woven from twigs. The girls will grow up and play with them.
The woman's husband was a traveling merchant, and he often visited Pungo Andongo. So his wife asked him to buy two black clay pots there. And she ordered her relative to get the baskets.
When the time came for the woman to give birth, the husband was in Pungo Andongo. But in a dream he heard an unfamiliar voice that ordered him to urgently return home. He bought two pots at his wife's request and went home. And, although the husband was in a hurry, he returned home when the children were already born. A relative came with him, bringing two baskets woven from twigs. They handed over the baskets and pots to the happy mother.
That same night the woman had a dream.
“Well, now you have two children,” a familiar voice told her. - Take care of them, protect them like the apple of your eye. And when they grow up and learn to walk, don’t let them play on the river bank. Remember my order well.
The woman cared very much about her twins. I never left them alone, I just didn’t take my eyes off them. But one day, busy with household chores, she did not notice how the children ran away to the river bank.
The girls never parted with their favorite toys - baskets and pots. Kakula ran to the water and stuck her basket into the water, she stuck it just like that, but the gods immediately picked it up and carried it to the middle of the river. Crying bitterly, the girl swam after the basket and sang:
Kakula is swimming, little sister is swimming,
The Kwanzaa River carries her
To where our lord lives.
My basket is floating
My pretty one is swimming,
Floats further and further
Along the waves of the Kwanzaa River!
Kabasa, seeing that her sister was being carried away by the water, dipped a pot into the river, and the waves immediately picked it up and carried it to the middle of the river. Kabasa wanted to get it, but she couldn’t stay on her feet, fell into the water and swam after her sister and her pot:
Kabasa is swimming, little sister is swimming,
The Kwanzaa River carries her
To where our lord lives.
My pot is floating
My pretty one is swimming,
Floats further and further
Along the waves of the Kwanzaa River!
The mother missed the girls, saw that they were not at home, got scared and ran to the river bank. Far, far away, the heads of her daughters could be seen in the waves of the Kwanzaa River. In desperation, the woman wanted to throw herself into the water and swim after them, but she was afraid that she would drown. Standing knee-deep in the water, she called loudly:
- Come back, my daughters, come back, my twins! Come back, my dears! I prepared delicious food for you, I picked bananas for you! Come back! Your father will get you other baskets, other pots, even if he has to go to the ends of the earth for them!
But the children did not hear her, they kept swimming and swimming, further and further for their toys.
Kakula floats, Kabasa floats, the Kwanza River carries them to where our lord lives. Our pots are floating, our baskets are floating, they are floating further and further along the waves of the Kwanzaa River!
The basket and the pot kept floating and floating, swaying on the waves. And the girls swam after them. But now they were exhausted, and the waves of Kwanzaa swallowed them up.
And the twins' sad song still sounded in the mother's ears. She now stood up to her neck in water and in despair stretched out her hands to where her children had disappeared. Then, crying bitterly, the woman went ashore and returned home.
Having learned what had happened, the father also rushed to the shore, hoping to save the twins, but it was all in vain.
And that night the woman had a dream. An unfamiliar voice told her:
– You wanted to have children. I gave them to you. But I warned you not to let them onto the river bank. Only you didn't keep track of them. And now their home will be the bottom of the river. If you had not been afraid of the water, if you had swam after your children, if you had not humbly returned home, then your girls would still be with you now. But you left them, and from now on they belong to me.
Since then, the woman could not find peace. The thought that she had not sacrificed her life for the lives of her children filled her heart with sadness. And in the end, grief brought her to the grave. Her husband also died of grief.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru