Ἡ Περιστερὰ
Κρίστοφ φον Σμιτ, 1827
A robber band, a letter carried on a pigeon's wing, and a girl who won't let anyone harm a bird — an old story that still tightens like a cord. 29 words. A tender, lyrical tale with a dramatic pull, where family love and concern for a small bird keep the pace steady and warm.
Feels like tenderness and serenity. About family, love and nature.
Who it’s for
You may like it if you enjoy old-fashioned children’s stories with clear moral warmth and a dramatic thread. The Greek is nineteenth-century and quite formal, so it may take patience if you read modern Greek easily.
Why read it
It offers a short, vivid example of how a simple act of mercy can carry a story, and its old Greek gives you a glimpse of nineteenth-century translation.
Pages from the book
A child holds a frightened bird and decides, out loud, what kind of person she is.
— Νὰ τὸ ψήσῃς! ἐφώναξεν ἡ Ἑλένη μετ’ ἐκπλήξεως ἅμα καὶ λύπης λαμβάνουσα τὴν περιστερὰν ὡς διὰ νὰ τὴν λυτρώσῃ ἀπὸ τὸν θάνατον, ἆ, ὄχι φιλτάτη μου μῆτερ, ἀστειεύεσαι. Τὸ πτωχὸν τοῦτο ζῶον κατέφυγεν εἰς ἐμὲ, πῶς ἠμπορῶ νὰ τὸ σκοτώσω; Παρατήρησε πῶς εἶναι ὡραῖον! εἶναι κάτασπρον ὡς τὸ χιόνι καὶ τὰ ποδάριά του εἶναι κόκκινα ὡς τὸ κοράλι. Ἆ! πῶς κτυπᾷ ἡ καρδιά του! Καϋμένο περιστεράκι! μὲ κυττάζει ἱκετευτικῶς καὶ τὸ ἀθωότατον βλέμμα του φαίνεται ὅτι θέλει νὰ μοῦ εἴπῃ: «Μὴ μοῦ κάμῃς κακόν.» Ὄχι, καλό μου πουλάκι, δὲν θὰ σοῦ κάμω κακὸν, δὲν κατέφυγες ματαίως εἰς ἐμέ· θέλω νὰ ἦσαι εὐχαριστημένο μαζύ μου. Why the thing you loved most is worth more once you've given it away.
— Ἐὰν τὸ θέλῃς, ἠμπορεῖς νὰ τὸ κάμῃς ἄλλοτε, ὅταν ἡ Εὐφροσύνη ἔλθῃ νὰ μᾶς ἴδῃ· τώρα ὅμως δὲν ἠδύνασο νὰ κάμῃς καλλίτερον δῶρον εἰς τὴν φίλην σου. Δῶρον πρὸς ἐνθύμησιν πολυτιμώτερον ἤθελε τὴν ταπεινώσει καὶ δὲν θὰ τῆς ἐπροξένει τόσην χαρὰν· αὐτὸ τὸ ὁποῖον σοῦ ἦτο τόσον προσφιλὲς ἂν καὶ μικρᾶς ἀξίας τῆς ἀποδεικνύει πόσον τὴν ἀγαπᾷς· μὴ μετανοῇς λοιπὸν δι’ ἐκεῖνο τὸ ὁποῖον ἔκαμες. Εἶδες ὅτι ὁ πατήρ σου ἦτο ἕτοιμος νὰ ριψοκινδυνεύσῃ τὴν ζωήν του διὰ νὰ συντρέξῃ τὴν τυραννουμένην χήραν, καλὰ λοιπὸν ἔκαμες καὶ σὺ, ἡ ὁποία ἔδωκες τὸ ἀγαπητότερόν σου πρᾶγμα διὰ νὰ χαροποιήσῃς τὸ τεθλιμμένον ὀρφανόν. Ἐκεῖνος ὁ ὁποῖος δὲν συνειθίσει ἐγκαίρως νὰ θυσιάζῃ ὅ,τι ἔχει ὑπὲρ τῶν ἄλλων δὲν τοὺς ἀγαπᾷ εἰλικρινῶς· τοιαῦται θυσίαι εἶναι εὐάρεστοι εἰς τὸν Θεὸν, ὁ ὁποῖος θὰ σὲ ἀνταμείψῃ βεβαίως δι’ ἐκεῖνο τὸ ὁποῖον ἔκαμες. How often the thing you feared turned out to be the moon.
Καὶ ἡ μήτηρ μετὰ τῆς θυγατρὸς ἤρχισαν νὰ κλαίωσιν ἰδοῦσαι τὴν φαινομένην φλόγα, ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς πρὸς μεγάλην χαράν των παρετήρησαν ὅτι εἶχον ἀπατηθῆ· ἐπειδὴ ἡ νομιζομένη ἐκείνη φλὸξ δὲν ἦτο τίποτε ἄλλο παρὰ ἡ Σελήνη, ἡ ὁποία ὑψωθεῖσα τελευταῖον ἐπάνω τῶν ἀτμῶν τῆς γῆς ἔλαμψε παρευθὺς καθαρώτερον καὶ ἐξηκολούθησε τὴν βραδεῖαν, ἀλλὰ μεγαλοπρεπῆ πορείαν της ἐπὶ τοῦ ἀνεφέλου οὐρανοῦ. Τότε ἀνέλαβον θάρρος καὶ ἔμειναν ἀκόμη ἀρκετὴν ὥραν εἰς τὸ παράθυρον, ἀλλ’ εὐτυχῶς οὐδὲ τὸ παραμικρότερον σημεῖον εἶδον τῆς τρομερᾶς ἐκείνης κοκκινάδας ἡ ὁποία φαίνεται εἰς τὸν Οὐρανὸν ὅταν συμβαίνῃ μεγάλη πυρκαϊά. Κρίστοφ φον Σμιτ.Schmid wrote this story for children in 1826–27; it was translated across Europe within a decade. Its name survives in Greece thanks to Koromilas's 19th-century rendering.
Books that feel like this
Where to get it
Some of these links earn us a small commission, at no cost to you. It keeps BookFeed free.
Questions readers ask
- Is Ἡ Περιστερὰ for me?
- You may like it if you enjoy old-fashioned children’s stories with clear moral warmth and a dramatic thread. The Greek is nineteenth-century and quite formal, so it may take patience if you read modern Greek easily.
- What is Ἡ Περιστερὰ like?
- A tender, lyrical tale with a dramatic pull, where family love and concern for a small bird keep the pace steady and warm. Feels like tenderness and serenity. About family, love and nature.
- What should I read after Ἡ Περιστερὰ?
- If you liked Ἡ Περιστερὰ, try The Emperor of Portugallia (Selma Lagerlöf), Anne of Green Gables (L. M. Montgomery) and Sonnets from the Portuguese (Elizabeth Barrett Browning).
A taste of the feed
The night before a child leaves, a father rehearses the loss.
Jan moved quietly away from the door, where he had been standing a moment, listening, and sat down on the step. He never thought for an instant that Glory Goldie would remain at home. Indeed he knew better than did anyone else that she must go away. All the same it was to him as if the soft little bundle had again been laid in his arms. His heart had been set going once more. Now it was beating away in his breast as if trying to make up for lost time. With that he felt that his armour of defence was gone.
The Emperor of Portugallia · Selma Lagerlöf
What does the limitless geography of a child's mind look like?
Anne was curled up Turk-fashion on the hearthrug, gazing into that joyous glow where the sunshine of a hundred summers was being distilled from the maple cordwood. She had been reading, but her book had slipped to the floor, and now she was dreaming, with a smile on her parted lips. Glittering castles in Spain were shaping themselves out of the mists and rainbows of her lively fancy; adventures wonderful and enthralling were happening to her in cloudland—adventures that always turned out triumphantly and never involved her in scrapes like those of actual life.
Anne of Green Gables · L. M. Montgomery
What it costs to hand someone the ashes of your grief.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly, As once Electra her sepulchral urn, And, looking in thine eyes, I overturn The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see What a great heap of grief lay hid in me, And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn Through the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scorn Could tread them out to darkness utterly, It might be well perhaps. But if instead Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow The grey dust up—those laurels on thine head, O my Beloved, will not shield thee so, That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred The hair beneath. Stand further off then! Go.
Sonnets from the Portuguese · Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Read pages from books like this, one at a time
Keep reading in the feed