Thursday, May 19, 2016
Thursday, February 11, 2016
BY KATARINA ZAVODSZKA
Illustrated by Martina Kothgasser
POR KATARINA ZAVODSZKA
Ilustrado por Martina Kothgasser
Table of Contents
About the Author
Tabla de contenido
Pagina del titulo
Sobre el autor
Derechos de autor
To my Alexandra
Para mi Alexandra
There once was a bellybutton. He usually smiled and looked like this:
Había una vez un ombligo. El normalmente sonreía y se veía así:
He smiled at himself when he saw himself in the mirror,
El se sonreía a sí mismo cuando se veía en el espejo,
and he smiled when he saw himself in the window of a car sometimes in summertime.
Y se sonreía cuando se veía en la ventana de un carro a veces en el verano.
Sometimes he got famous in far away countries as he smiled into the camera of the computer.
A veces se hizo famoso en un país muy lejano cuando le sonreía a la cámara de la computadora.
Only... it started to bother him that he did not know his identity. Whose bellybutton was he? If he could just see…! But he could not see up
Solo que… el empezó a molestarse cuando no conocía su identidad. ¿de quién seré yo el ombligo? ¡Si tan solo pudiera ver…! Pero él no podía ver hacia arriba
o hacia abajo
no matter how he strained his eyes. He could only see straight in the front of himself.
no importa cuánto agudizaba los ojos. El solo podía ver hacia delante de sí.
He considered therapy.
El pensó en hacer terapia.
But… honestly, he did not feel ill at all. He was only curious, which is natural.
Pero… honestamente, el no se sentía mal del todo. El estaba solamente curioso, lo cual es natural.
He began to think harder and harder and aha! He arrived at the conclusion: he shall pay attention to all of the surroundings and thus he shall be able to logically conclude whose bellybutton he is. And he started immediately. He saw: dirty white sports socks on the floor next to the bed – ew!
El empezó a pensar fuertemente y aja! El llego a la conclusión: El iba a prestar mas atención a todo su alrededor, por ende sería capaz de deducir lógicamente de quien era el ombligo. Así empezó inmediatamente. El vio: unas medias blancas sucias en el piso al lado de la cama – ¡asco!
He saw: white ceiling.
El vio: el techo blanco.
He saw: nothing at all, just darkness for a long time…
El vio: absolutamente nada, solo oscuridad por mucho tiempo…
Then he saw a rim of a white sink in the bathroom.
Cuando el vio el borde blanco del lavamanos en el baño.
Then he got wet!
¡Entonces se encontró mojado!
And so it went on and on.
Y así siguió y siguió.
One day a little girl visited and at one point she looked straight at him and cried out: “Oh, what a cute bellybutton! How do you call it in Switzerland?”
Un día una niña vino de visita y a cierto punto ella lo vio directamente a el y exclamo: “oh, ¡que ombligo tan bonito! ¿Cómo le dicen ustedes allá en Suiza?
“In French we say: ‘Le Burrillon’ “, a boy’s voice was heard. And so the belly button understood: he belonged to a Swiss boy.
... and he smiled even more widely ever since!
“En francés nosotros le decimos” ‘Le Bourillon’, se escuchó la voz de un niño. Y asi el ombligo entendió que pertenecía a un niño suizo.
… ¡y desde ese momento el sonrió aun más ampliamente!
Katarina Zavodszka received a M.A. in double major Language and Literature/ Philosophy, re: Ethics from the Comenius University, SR; and studied Art History and Criticism under the direction of graduate advisor Dr. Paula Harper at the University of Miami. She received an All American Scholar Award. She participated in literary competitions Wolkrova Polianka, Akademicky Presov, SR, and received a number of awards and recognition. She published in the literary addition to the newspaper Smena and in the journals for young writers. She wrote for Slovak Literary Review published by Centre for Information on Literature, Bratislava. She resides in Palm Beach, Florida.
Martina Kothgasser studied Graphic Design at the WIFI, Graz, Austria, and drawing and painting with Professor Alfredo Araujo Santoyo, Bogota, Colombia. In 2010 she participated in the Biennale Bogota, Colombia. She resides in Florida, USA, and dedicates her time to illustration of children’s books.
Written by Katarina Zavodszka © 2011
Illustrated by Martina Kothgasser © 2015
Photography by Ralph Gibson © 2003
Katarina Zavodszka obtuvo un master en artes con doble mención en lengua y literatura y filosofía mención ética de la universidad de Comenius Republica Eslovaca; estudio historia del arte y criticismo bajo la tutela de la Dra. Paula Harper en la Universidad de Miami. Ella se recibió el All American Scholar Award. Ella participó en el concurso literario Wolkrova Polianka, Akademicky Presov, SR y recibió numerosos premios y reconocimientos. Ella publicó en la edición literaria del periódico Smena y en revistas para jóvenes escritores. Ella escribió para la revista literaria eslovaca publicada por el centro de información sobre literatura, Bratislava. Ella reside en Palm Beach, Florida.
Martina Kothgasser estudio diseño grafico en el WIFI, Graz Austria, cursó dibujos y pintura con el Profesor Alfredo Araujo Santoyo en Bogotá Colombia. En 2010 participo en la bienal de Bogotá, Colombia. Ella reside en Florida, USA y dedica su tiempo haciendo ilustraciones para libros de niños.
Escrito por Katarina Zavodszka © 2011
Traducido por Carlos La Riva
Ilustrado por Martina Kothgasser © 2015
Fotografía por Ralph Gibson © 2003
Monday, February 8, 2016
THE LITTLE DIGGER
By Katarina Zavodszka
By Katarina Zavodszka
There once was a Little Digger who moved into a new home with his Mommy Digger and Daddy Digger. The home was not too far from a highway that was being built. In the morning, after breakfast, Mommy Digger said to Little Digger:
“Little Digger, daddy and I have to go to the work on the highway, but you are too small to go with us. You must stay home and if you want to practice digging, then only in our garden! Do not leave our garden. Do not open the gate.
Little Digger said he understood and kissed mommy and daddy good bye.
Upon their leave, the Little Digger started his digging in the garden. He dug here and he dug there. He played all over the garden with joy. When he ran out of space he started digging deeper. He dug a deep hole and kept digging further, when, suddenly, his teeth got stuck on something. He tried to pull out with no success. He wriggled. He rolled his eyes left and right, his teeth stuck deep in the ground, but he saw no one who could help him. His motor ran louder and louder, as he tried to pull his teeth out by backing out.
‘If I make loud noise with my motor,’ he thought, ‘maybe my mommy and daddy can hear me at their work on the highway and will rush home to rescue me.’
He tried so hard to make loud noise that his motor shot out a black cloud of smoke out of his exhaust pipe: “Poof!”
“Excuse me”, said Little Digger and blushed.
But Mommy Digger and Daddy Digger could not hear him, as the work on the highway was loud.
The Little Digger did not give up. He rumbled and grumbled and roared until his radiator overheated. The water in it turned into the steam and the white steam rose up to the sky in form of small sheep-like clouds. This scared him, which sent out yet another cloud up. The Little Digger took notice of it.
‘I have an idea!’ he thought to himself. ‘I will send steam messages up to the sky!’
He added gas to feed his motor, which made his motor run and overheat even more, and his radiator that could not keep up cooling the hot motor made white steam messages that rose to the sky: “Ti-ti-ti, taah-taah-taah, ti-ti-ti. Ti-ti-ti, taah-taah-taah, ti-ti-ti. Ti-ti-ti, taah-taah-taah, ti-ti-ti.” The Little Digger knew very well, that this meant “SOS. SOS. SOS.” in the international Morse code. And in the international Morse code this meant: “Help!”
In the meantime Mommy Digger and Daddy Digger worked hard on the highway. It was nearly lunch break and Mommy Digger paused her digging. She looked up at the blue sky with a puff. There she saw a row of small white sheep-like clouds writing a long message, that looked like this: “. . . - - - . . .”
She read it out aloud: “Dot, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot. Dot, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot. Dot, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot.”
“What is it? An SOS in the sky? And it is coming from the direction of our house, Daddy Digger!” She boomed with an explosion, as she was, after all, a backhoe.
Daddy Digger, alarmed, stopped digging, and blasted through the noisy highway: “Mommy Digger! It is coming from our house, indeed! We better rush home to check on our Little Digger!”
The both of them speeded to their gate, nervous Daddy Digger puffing out black smoke out of his exhaust pipe. “Excuse me, pardon me,” he kept repeating. In the garden they found Little Digger with his teeth stuck deep down in the ground. His eyes rolled up at them.
“I aan a i ee ou,” he mumbled.
“Little Digger!” They shouted simultaneously and got to work to pull him out instantly.
And imagine what they found! Their Little Digger’s teeth came out, to be sure, but they had gold all over them. The three of them peaked into the deep hole just to find that they had gold in their garden‘s ground.
“You have found gold Little Digger!” Daddy digger rumbled, which is, what loud machines, such as he was, do.
“Wow,” Mommy Digger puffed.
The Little Digger smiled while his eyes sparkled, which could had been a short circuit, which is an electrical malfunction, of course, due to his overheating.
Since then Mommy Digger and Daddy Digger did not have to work on the highway any more. They just dug the gold they had in their garden. Of course, they did not call it a garden anymore. They called it ‘A Gold Mine’.
1. a mechanical excavator that draws toward itself a bucket attached to a hinged boom.
Monday, January 18, 2016
How Wind Had To Go To Finishing School
By Katarina Zavodszka
(From Josephine and The Sage)
One lovely Sunday Josephine and mama went to lunch at Al Fresco restaurant at the golf course on the shore of the Palm Beach island.
“Inside or on the terrace?” asked the hostess.
“On the terrace!” exclaimed Josephine, and the hostess led them to a table outside. The beach looked turquoise and the sun shined. A black bird sat high in the palm tree nearby.
“I will have the meat golf balls”, Josephine ordered happily her traditional at this location dish, while mama had a glass of prosecco before reading the menu.
When Josephine started at her meat golf balls, her blond hair kept flying in. Mama was relaxing and sipping on her prosecco, but someone kept tugging at her sleeve for attention. Tug-tug, tug-tug.
“Excuse me, Wind, this really needs to stop. It is not polite,” mama said.
Josephine giggled, but then the red tomato sauce blew off her spoon in the form of tiny droplets right into her face.
“Oh no!” she said and Mama, trying to keep her dress intact reproached the Wind again.
“This really ought to stop, Wind. You are disrupting our lunch. If you do not know how to behave, I am afraid, you will have to go to the Finishing School!”
“What is a Finishing School?” Josephine burst out laughing.
“A finishing school is a school that focuses on teaching social graces,” said mama. “It follows on from ordinary school and is intended to complete the education, with classes primarily on deportment and etiquette.”
“Wind, you will have to go to the Finishing School,” announced Josephine at the next opportunity that Wind presented: a blow so intense that her hair spiraled up like some sort of twist of ice cream from soft serve ice cream machine.
“I like him,” she said, finally, smiling. “He is a prankster like me.”
Mama just took a sip of her prosecco, wind tugging at her sleeve. Excuse me, tug-tug, excuse me, tug-tug, excuse me! He pulled with quick, forceful movements with a persistence of one unruly child.
Monday, October 19, 2015
PROSPECTIVE FUN FOR THE CHILDREN
KATARINA ZAVODSZKA’S BILINGUAL CHILDREN STORIES
IN FORM OF GOLDEN RULES
Learn languages while reading funny, illustrated original children stories that offer morals not unlike those found in fables.
THE SABI SABI WEDDING - LA BODA SABI SABI - SVADBA V SABI SABI
Annotation – THE SABI SABI WEDDING
Notas – LA BODA SABI SABI
Anotácia - SVADBA V SABI SABI
This enchanting illustrated children's story set in the African wilderness contains in essence a moral, not unlike those found in the fables of Aesop. Here what begins with the childlike misgivings at the frightening sounds of the animal kingdom are allayed by a shift in perspective -- to that of the lions who were also curious at the scent of a wedding feast. The lions are surprisingly creative in the disguises they envision in the hope to join in, yet unable to execute due to their lack of skill. One senses in their endeavor the kinship of man and animal.
Esta encantadora ilustración de cuentos para niños se desarrolla en el África salvaje y contiene una esencia moral, poco parecida en las fabulas de Aesop. Aquí la historia comienza con la duda y miedos con los sonidos espantosos del reino animal, los cuales se alivian mediante un cambio de perspectiva – esa de los leones quienes también estaban curiosos por los olores del festín de la boda. Los leones son sorprendentemente creativos con la creación de sus disfraces con la esperanza de poder participar, sin embargo no pueden ejecutar su plan debido a su falta de destreza. Uno se percata de lo duro que trabajan en mantener una relación hombre y animal.
Tento čarovný ilustrovaný príbeh pre deti, ktorý sa odohráva v africkej púšti, obsahuje i mravné ponaučenie nápodobné tým, ktoré nájdeme v Ezopových bájkach. Tu to, čo začína detskou obavou z desivých zvukov z ríše zvierat, je rozptýlené posunom v perspective, kde sú levv, zaujaté vôňou svadobnej hostiny. Levy sú prekvapivo kreatívne v prevlekoch, ktoré si predstavujú v nádeji pripojiť sa k hostine, napriek tomu to nedokážu z dôvodu ich nedostatku zručností. V ich snahe cítime príbuzenstvo človeka a zvieraťa.
NEW: SPANISH EDITION available on AMAZON (Free for Kindle Unlimited subscribers at this time.) Click here: