|Leyb Kvitko, Di bobe Shlak un ir kabak (Mémé Shlak et sa citrouille), Kharkhov 1928|
« Far from her tent, on the golden field, the biggest pumpkin grew on Bobe Shlak’s patch. There would be endless knishes for the town and for the village, they'd be able bake and bake and never crack all the seeds. Bobe Shlak went to take the pumpkin to her tent — but she couldn't move it. Granny pushed and twisted and wore out one of her old shoes. »
« Grandpa came running to the pumpkin and said “This kind can be taken away in a sack!”
And he spit on his hands
and had a go at the pumpkin.
His shirt soon burst!
Ah, ah, what bad luck! Might as well leave it
lying here in the field and drag the tent to it!” And
Grandpa sighed, ashamed: "I've worn out my shirt in vain.»
« Suddenly a little gang showed up and one little guy, just like the big kids, cried out: “WHAT A PUMKIN!” “Granny, we'll help you peel it, and you can give us each a piece!” Then Granny said, thoughtfully: “I'd even make you knishes! But...” “But what?” “I can't move it from the field!” »
« The little one went to the tent and brought back an axe, and chopped and chopped at the pumpkinand CRACK!
Granny wore out her second shoe from joy! »