The Gnome Magicians

Diana Malivani

The Gnome

Magicians

An Illustrated Story in Verse

Translated from Russian into English by

Mark Herman and Ronnie Apter

Illustrated by the Author

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About the life of the Gnome Magicians in far-off fairyland (an Illustrated Story in Verse)

For a little girl named Michelle

The Author would like to express her deep gratitude to her husband for his support and assistance with this book

Table of Contents

The Gnome Magicians

The Author

Other books by the Author

The Gnome Magicians

Gnomes live in far-off fairyland

In eternal summer weather,

Where the old oak keeps its secrets

And the stories go on forever.

There, the bird song never ends,

The mountain streamlet sings,

And falling stars streak the sky

To splash in welling springs.

There, brighter than diamonds sparkles the dew,

Shining through the midnight gloom,

And the forest music is everywhere.

Farewell to the mournful moon!

There, a raindrop is a crystal pendant

Hanging on a silver thread.

In its facets a rainbow shimmers:

Violet blue green red.

And here, the gnomes, who do not fear the dark,

Have worked with incredible skill

To burrow their home, an underground labyrinth,

Into the foot of a hill.

The twelve of them like to wear funny clothes:

Their usual dress includes

Brightly colored floppy hoods

And pointy-toed golden shoes.

They are master craftsmen, these forest magicians,

Wonderfully adept in the use of tools.

They sing as they cut diamonds, rubies,

Emeralds – glittering precious jewels.

In full swing in the labyrinth,

Hidden away from human eyes,

The work goes on to the sound of a flute

As the gnomes go on with their lives.

Over fields of flowers, a gray fog spills

Down from the gently rolling hills.

Here live the mysteries of the ages,

The secrets kept in the books of sages.

The gnome magicians know no care

Or fear or sadness. They play

Their songs and dance and drink

As their music flies far away.

When midnight strikes, the forest calms.

Only the gnome magicians dance on,

Treading by moonlight on dew-wet grass

Until the break of dawn.

They walk silently through falling leaves,

Through a thicket on a narrow path,

Faintly humming an ancient song

To sleeping trees and grass.

Then, sheltered from the full moon’s gaze,

Beneath the boughs of an ancient pine,

They bury their treasure, hiding it

Away from faint star shine.

Here, in the midst of the boundless forest,

In silence they read their magic spells,

Bidding farewell to the buried gems

Suffused with the spirit of the gnomes themselves.

Where the four winds all blow freely,

Bending blades of grass to the ground,

The gnome magicians’ merry songs

Continue to resound.

About the Author