ASKA I VUK IVO ANDRIC PDF

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She performed unusual jumps over fallen branches, jumps that made the wolf laugh, want more, and seek an encore. During the first few days, the lamb, like all young lambs, followed her mother, but when it started to run on her still rigid and uncommonly long legs and graze by herself, the lamb showed her temperament. Ceaselessly there were congratulations and joy, reproaches and tears, screams and joyful bleating.

She could make two or three figures as they were meant to be performed and she did them with dread. There was great joy on the Sloping Meadows.

Aska and the Wolf

She was alive and he was enjoying himself. This attitude, though, slowly turned into a marveling and irrepressible curiosity. This end, though, was starting to andrlc less and less attainable every second because the dance was overwhelming him and making him forget all else. Tricky, old, and perky, he had crept into the field to which wolves do not usually come at that time of year. The wounded wolf had only enough strength to walk a hundred steps while his wound was still fresh.

Aska i vuk by Ivo Andrić | Andrić Ivo | Pinterest | Books

They came to the edge of the forest and hesitated a bit, wondering in which direction to move. There was a bloody trail behind the wolf. She wondered what, after all, could be so wrong with art? Aja sharply admonished her otherwise well-behaved, intelligent, and beautiful daughter. He was incredulous if wolves can be said to be capable of doubting as well as suspicious which wolves are quite andricc of of a trap: Nor andruc we imagine all that we can do.

The back of his body was now completely deadened, but he pawed the ground with his front legs, rolling his head and baring his fangs. This reconciliation became even easier when little Aska showed a great gift and aptitude for dance as she progressed. Aska was feeling as if there were a hundred lives andrlc her, and she used all their strength to preserve the one life that she had and that was already past regretting. From her tiny body, which was solely sustained with the sap of the joy of life but which was destined soon to die, Aska employed her unusual strengths and amazing skills l movement.

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This is how the well-meaning, worried mother spoke to Aska.

They went slowly and carefully. At the edge of the clearing, an unexpected thing happened. But I want to see the wonder, askw see this one last movement, and then the next.

And in vain she tried to remember something more that she could do to overcome the event that awaited her at the end. Aja gave Aska firm advice and strong rebukes, to teach her the many risks of this sort of behavior in a neighborhood like theirs, where always runs some cunning and bloodthirsty wolf, the kind of wolf that does not fear the shepherds and kills ewes and their young, especially when they splinter off and meander about.

Running through the bright, green fields, one after another, Aska inhaled the scents of the old bent beeches covered with mosses like the opiate of a story about an extraordinary event.

She felt that she still had strength for movement, but it was not a movement to protect herself because she was not capable of that. She had no injuries, but she was lying on the forest grass as if dead. Over the green meadow, through tight passages, between grey, hard beech trees and above the smooth and brown carpet of leaves that fall year after year in layers, Aska, the lamb, danced, no longer a lamb, not yet a ewe, light and lively, like white milkweed carried by the wind, becoming grayish when she entered a patch of fog, becoming abaze like a stage show when she entered a meadow covered by sun.

In school, Aska was clever and progressed quickly. This way I will not only have her blood and her meat but also have her strange, amusing, crazy, wild dance, a dance I have never seen before. It seemed to her that this story with its uncountable number of remarkable experiences had no end. We do not know what strength or what possibilities lie hidden in any living creature. He kept trying to convince himself that he had her blood and her meat, but he just wanted to see the end of the dance.

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And that was the limit of her knowledge and skills. First one, then another, and then a third. Aska claimed that no one in their family had ever been anything but a docile sheep-housewife. His fur, green and brown, made it possible for him to blend easily with the autumn beeches and dry grasses.

For his victim, there were strange, unexpected moments, somewhere between mortal horror into which she had entered and the unbearable, bloody, final fact hidden behind the word, death. I can tear her apart at any moment, whenever I would like.

When Aska came to the tree line, ivl changing the character and the rhythm of her dance, and the wolf was still standing in the field, turned sideways to the observers, the older shepherd took off his musket, aimed, and fired. Aska finished the first class of ballet school with the highest marks and was about to begin the second class.

Aska i vuk

Her blood froze and her thin legs could not move. Who knows if it was true or not, as is the case with every story such as this one? Through a deep opening in the boughs they could see Aska performing over the green meadows brave and precise pirouettes followed by the tired, old wolf just a few steps behind.

Still today, after ancric years, this famous ballet is performed on stage where art and the will to resist prevail over all evils, even death.

They easily finished him off. The sun drove away the asa fog still lingering in the woods like the remains of some night dance—white, bright, and quiet.