Příhody Toma Bombadila

The Stone Troll / Kamenný obr


Troll sat alone on his seat of stone, And munched and mumbled a bare old bone; For many a year he had gnawed it near, For meat was hard to come by. Done by! Gum by! In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone, And meat was hard to come by.

Up came Tom with his big boots on. Said he to Troll: "Pray, what is yon? For it looks like the shin o' my nuncle Tim, As should be a-lyin' in graveyard. Caveyard! Paveyard! This many a year has Tom been gone, And I thought he were lyin' in graveyard."

"My lad," said Troll, "this bone I stole. But what be bones that lie in a hole? Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o' lead, Afore I found his shinbone. Tinbone! Thinbone! He can spare a share for a poor old troll, For he don't need his shinbone."

Said Tom: "I don't see why the likes o' thee Without axin' leave should go makin' free With the shank or the shin o' my father's kin; So hand the old bone over! Rover! Trover! Though dead he be, it belongs to he; So hand the old bone over!"

"For a couple o' pins," says Troll, and grins, "I'll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins. A bit o' fresh meat will go down sweet! I'll try my teeth on thee now. Hee now! See now! I'm tired o' gnawing old bones and skins; I've a mind to dine on thee now."

Thee'll be a nice change from thine nuncle. Sunkle! Drunkle! I'm tired of gnawing old bones and skins; Thee'll be a nice change from thine nuncle."

But just as he thought his dinner was caught, He found his hands had hold of naught. Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind And gave him the boot to larn him. Warn him! Darn him! A bump o' the boot on the seat, Tom thought, Would be the way to larn him.

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone Of a troll that sits in the hills alone. As well set your boot to the mountain's root, For the seat of a troll don't feel it. Peel it! Heal it! Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan, And he knew his toes could feel it.

Tom's leg is game, since home he came, And his bootless foot is lasting lame; But Troll don't care, and he's still there With the bone he boned from it's owner. Doner! Boner! Troll's old seat is still the same, And the bone he boned from it's owner!


Mnoho let si v osamění hověl obr na kameni, mumlal, brumlal, cumlal starou kost. Byla to kost kopuletá, on ji žužlal mnohá léta, masa neměl dost. Zlost! Kost! Sám a sám žil v horské sluji, masa neměl dost.

Jednou si Tom do hor zašel, v jeskyni tam obra našel, kouká, houká, cože to má být? "Jak tak koukám na tu hnátu, připomíná mýho tátu, má ji v hrobě mít. Být! Hnít! Myslel jsem, že chudák táta má po smrti klid."

Obr praví: "Já ji čmajznul, když jsem neměl, co bych zblajznul, Tome, no ne, koukej, co má být? Mrtvýmu už na nic není, tak měj kusa pochopení, musím nějak žít. Být! Pít! Vždyť přece i chudák obr musí nějak žít."

Povídá Tom: "To je k zlosti, žrát tu mý rodinný kosti, obře, dobře, už toho mám dost! Tu kost musíš ihned vrátit, pak se koukej radši ztratit, než mně chytne zlost. Kost! Dost! Vrať mi tu tátovu hnátu, než dostanu zlost!"

Obr na to: "Jaký fraky, to tě radši zbodnu taky, hochu, trochu masa si dám rád. Ono je to vlastně k zlosti, pořád jen ty starý kosti, kdo by to chtěl žrát. Hlad! Chlad! Starý hnáty tvýho táty, kdopak to má žrát."

Už se chystá, že ho lapí, jenže Toma nepřekvapí, skočí, kročí, hop a je ten tam. "Tohle jsou mi divné mravy, pár kopanců to snad spraví, počkej, já ti dám! Sám! Mám! Naučím tě, jak se chovat, to ti povídám!"

Běda! Tome, to se nemá, kopat obry pod kolena, ouvej, jouvej, on je jako kost. Tvrdý je jako kus dřeva, tobě praskla bota levá a máš toho dost. Zlost! Kost! Narazil sis levou nohu a máš toho dost.

Tvá levá noha je chromá, buď rád, že jsi zase doma, s tamtou hnátou obr sedí dál, na svém balvanu si sedí, kosti staré dál si hledí, co by jinak žral. Vzal. Bral. Nemá nic než starou hnátu, co si z hrobu vzal.



zpět