Tale about the fisherman and the fish 1950 Сказка о рыбаке и рыбке English subs

Animation of Michael Tsekhanovsky, the grandmaster of Russian animation in the 50's
I uploaded the Flower with the seven colours, the frog princess, and Kashtanka before..

CC soft subs (english), can be activated with button in the bottom of the screen

SOYUZMULTFILM Studio
Moscow 1950

THE FISHERMAN AND THE GOLDFISH
(Based on A.S. Pushkin's tale)

Directed by M. TSEKHANOVSKY
Screenplay by M. VOLPIN

Production Designers
P. REPKIN, D. BEREZOVSKY

Director of Photography M. DRUYAN
Sound by N. PRILUTSKY

English translation by
Irina ZHELEZNOVA

Starring
B. CHIRKOV as The Old Man

A. ZUYEVA as The Old Woman
M. BABANOVA as The Goldfish

On seashore far a green oak towers,

And to it with a gold chain bound,

A learned cat whiles away the hours

By walking slowly round and round.

To right he walks, and sings a ditty;

To left he walks, and tells a tale.

What marvels there! A mermaid sitting

High in a tree, a sprite, a trail

Where unknown beasts move never
seen by

Man's eyes, a hut on chicken feet,

Without a door, without a window,

An evil witch's Ione retreat;

The woods and valleys there are
teeming

With strange things. Dawn brings
waves that, gleaming,

Over the sandy beaches creep,

And from the clear and shining water

Step thirty goodly knights escorted

By their Old Guardian, of the deep

An ancient dweller. There a dreaded
And hated tsar is captive ta'en;

There, as all watch, for cloud banks
headed,

Across the sea and o'er a plain,

A warlock bears a knight in train.

A princess there weeps locked in
a cell,

And Grey Wolf serves her very well;

There, in a mortar, beneath the skies,

All of itself, Baba Yaga flies;

There pines Kashchei and lusts for
gold;

All breathes of Russ...

The Russ of old!

There once was I, friends, and
the cat,

As near him 'neath the oak I sat

And drank of sweet mead at my leisure,

Recounted tales to me...With pleasure

One that I liked do I recall

And here and now will share with all...

There once lived an old man
and his goodwife

On the shore of the deep blue ocean;

They lived in a tumble-down hovel

For thirty-three summers and winters.

The old man used to fish for his
living,

And his wife spun yarn on her distaff.

He once cast his net in the ocean,

And pulled it up with mud from
the bottom;

He again cast his net in the ocean,

And this time caught nothing but
seaweed;

When he cast his net for the third
time,

One fish was all that he landed,

No common fish, though,
but a goldfish.

Now the goldfish began to implore
him,

And it spoke like a real human being:

"Put me back, old man, into the ocean!

I will pay you a right royal ransom,

I will give you whatever you ask me."

The old man was astonished and
frightened -

He'd been fishing for thirty-three
summers,

But had not heard of any fish
talking.

So with care he untangled the
goldfish

And tenderly said as he did so:

"God bless you, my dear little
goldfish!

Thank you kindly, I don't want your
ransom.

Go back to your home in the ocean,

And roam where you will without
hindrance."

To his wife the old fisherman
hastened

To tell her about this great marvel.

"I caught only one fish this morning -

A goldfish it was, most uncommon;

It spoke like a Christian, and begged
me

To put it back into the ocean,

And promised to pay a rich ransom,

To give me whatever I asked for.

But how could I ask for a ransom?

I released it without any payment."

His wife started scolding her husband:

"Oh you simpleton! Oh you great silly!

Couldn't make a mere fish pay
a ransom!

You at least might have asked for
a wash-tub -

For ours is all falling to pieces!"

The old man returned to the seashore,

Where the blue waves were frolicking
lightly.

He called out aloud for the goldfish,

And the goldfish swam up and
demanded:

"What is it, old man, you are
wanting?"

With a bow, the old man said
in answer:

"Forgive me, Your Majesty Goldfish!

My old woman has scolded me roundly,

Won't leave me alone for a minute,

She says that she wants a new
wash-tub,

For ours is all falling to pieces."

The goldfish murmured in answer:

"Do not worry, go home, God be
with you -

Very well, you shall have a new
wash-tub."

To his wife the old fisherman
hastened,

And behold - there it was, the new
wash-tub.

But she scolded him louder than ever:

"Oh you simpleton! Oh you great silly!

To ask for a tub - a mere wash-tub!

What good can you get from a wash-
tub?

Return to the goldfish, you silly,

Bow down low and ask for a cottage."

Again he went back to the seashore.

And this time the blue sea was
troubled.

He called out aloud for the goldfish,

And the goldfish swam up and
demanded:

"What is it, old man, you are
wanting?"

With a bow, the old man said in
answer:

"Forgive me, Your Majesty Goldfish!

My old woman is angrier than ever,

Won't leave me alone for a minute -

The old scold says she wants a new
cottage."

The goldfish murmured in answer:

"Do not worry, go home, God be with
you!

So be it! You'll have a new cottage!"

So back the old man turned his
footsteps;

Not a sign did he see of his hovel.

In its place stood a new gabled
cottage,

With a chimney of brick, newly
whitewashed,

A fence with oak gates stood around
it;

And there sat his wife at a window;

When she saw him, she scolded him
roundly:

"Oh you simpleton! Oh you great silly!

To ask for no more than a cottage!

Go and bow to the goldfish, and tell
it

That I'm tired of being a peasant,

That I want to be made a fine lady."

The old man then returned to
the seashore,

Where the ocean was restlessly
foaming,

He called out aloud for the goldfish.

The goldfish swam up and demanded:

"What is it, old man, you're wanting?"

With a bow, the old man said in
answer:

"Forgive me, Your Majesty Goldfish!

My old woman is madder than ever,

She gives me no rest for a second,

Says she's tired of being a peasant,

And wants to be made a fine lady."

The goldfish murmured in answer:

"Do not worry, go home, God be with
you."

To his wife the old fisherman
hastened,

And what did he see?

A tall mansion;

On its white marble stairs - his old
woman.

She was wearing a rich sable jacket,

And a head-dress, in gold all
embroidered;

Her neck was with pearls heavy laden;

She wore golden rings on her fingers;

She was shod in the softest red
leather;

Zealous servants bowed meekly before
her,

As she cuffed them and rated them
roundly.

The old man then approached his wife,
saying:

"Greetings, your ladyship, greetings,
fine lady!

Now I hope that your soul is
contented!"

She angrily bade him be silent

And sent him to serve in the stables.

First a week slowly passed, then
another,

The old woman grew prouder than ever.

One morning she sent for her husband,

And said: " Bow to the goldfish and
tell it

I'm tired of being a lady,

And I want to be made a Tsaritsa."

Her husband implored her in terror,

Saying: " Woman, you've surely gone
crazy!

You can't even talk like a lady!

You'd be mocked at all over the
kingdom!"

His old woman grew madder than ever,

Slapped his face and then shouted in
passion:

"How dare you, muzhik, stand and
argue,

Stand and argue with me, a fine lady?

Go at once - if you don't , then I
warn you,

You'll be dragged to the shore,
willy-nilly."

The old man went down to the seashore.

The ocean was swollen and sullen.

He called out aloud for the goldfish,

And the goldfish swam up and
demanded:

"What is it, old man, you're wanting?"

With a bow, the old man said in
answer:

"Forgive me, Your Majesty Goldfish!

Again my old woman's gone crazy!

Now she's tired of being a lady!

She wants to be made a Tsaritsa."

The goldfish murmured in answer:

"Do not worry, go home, God be with
you!

Very well! She shall be a Tsaritsa!"

To his wife the old fisherman
hastened,

And what did he see? A grand palace;

In the palace he saw his old woman,

At the table she sat, a Tsaritsa,

Attended by nobles and boyars;

They were pouring choice wines in
her goblet,

She was nibbling sweet gingerbread
wafers;

Around her, grim guards stood in
silence,

With halberds upon their broad
shoulders.

The old man was aghast when he saw
this,

He bowed to her feet and said humbly:

"Greetings, Oh mighty Tsaritsa!

Now I hope that your soul is
contented!"

But she gave not a glance at her
husband -

She ordered him thrust from her
presence.

The boyars and nobles all hastened

And drove him with blows from the
chamber;

The guards at the door waved their
halberds

And threatened to cut him to pieces.

All the people derided him, saying:

"Serves you right, now, you ill-bred
old fellow.

You churl - this will teach you
a lesson,

To keep to your station in future!"

First a week slowly passed, then
another;

The old woman grew prouder than ever.

She sent for her husband one morning,

And her chamberlain haled him before
her.

The old woman spoke thus to her
husband:

"Go, bow to the goldfish, and tell it

That I'm tired of being Tsaritsa,

Of the seas I want to be mistress,

With my home in the blue ocean waters;

The goldfish I want for my servant

To do my commands and my errands."

The old man durst not contradict her,

Nor open his lips to make answer.

He sadly set out for the seashore.

A tempest raged over the ocean,

Its waters were swollen and angry,

Its billows were boiling with fury.

He called out aloud for the goldfish.

The goldfish swam up and demanded:

"What is it, old man, you're wanting?"

With a bow, the old man said in
answer:

"Forgive me, Your Majesty Goldfish!

What shall I do with my cursed old
woman?

She is tired of being Tsaritsa,

Of the seas she now wants to be
mistress,

With her home in the blue ocean
waters;

She wants you to be her own servant,

To do her commands and her errands."

Not a word spoke the goldfish in
answer,

Itjust swished its tail, and in
silence

Disappeared in the depths of
the ocean.

He waited in vain for an answer,

And at last turned his steps to
the palace;

And behold - there again stood his
hovel;

On the doorstep sat his old woman,

With the same broken wash-tub before
her.

The End