The bird in the looking-glass sky
Written by Clare Azzopardi
Illustrated by Lisa Falzon
Translated by Albert Gatt

Merlin Publishers (Maltese Version)
Once upon a time, high up in a looking-glass sky, a big
bird flew by. Delightedly swooping high, the bird tried to spy a spot where to kip after a rather long trip.

“No, no, mamà, that’s not how the story begins.”
“How, then, Klarissa?”

Once upon a time, a small bird flew by. Well, it wasn’t all that small. But it wasn’t all that big either. He’d got lost somewhere high in the sky. And he swooped up and down trying to spy …

“No, no Klarissa, that’s not how the story begins.” “How, then, Melissa?”

Once upon a time a hunter drove by on a scooter with a plum-coloured shooter in hand. In the looking-glass sky was a rose-tinted bird not that small, not that big. It was just flying by.
But the hunter spotted him and raised his shooter on the fly and fired. Like this.

Caboom.

“Mamà! Mamà! That must be a plane.”
“In the garden? You’re kidding.”
“But those wings were ginormous! Like a walrus!”
“Maybe, Klar, it’s a crane.”
“A crane?”
“Or a pelican, a kestrel, a heron, a lark.”
“Or maybe, guess what? It’s a dragon!”
With barely a sound or a bound
Melissa,
with mamà at her shoulder (and somewhere, Klarissa)
opened the door to the garden.
They peeped out:
first came Melissa,
then came mama
and behind her, Klarissa.

It wasn’t a plane or a crane.
And it wasn’t a dragon, of course!
It was just a big bird that had crashed in the garden.
His plumage was whitish and rosy and grey.
His beak like a carrot was curvy, a little bit wonky and turvy.
His long legs were spindly, like stilettoes on shoes meant for grown-ups.
Mamà had a fright and she shut the door tight. “What was that?
Who is he? Where’d he come from? Did he…? Klarissa? Where’s she gone?

Was she under the sofa? She wasn’t.
Under the divan, perhaps? No.
Perhaps under the carpet? No. No.
Or inside the big chest? No. No. No.
Klarissa, where have you gone?

Klarissa didn’t know where this big bird was from. She didn’t know his name
or where he was headed. But she sat there beside him because
she could see he was gentle
she could see he was wounded
and frightened.
“My name is Klarissa. My sister’s Melissa. And mamà, she’s Larissa.
And you?”

When mamà and Melissa turned up
the big bird gave a bit of a stir.
He tried spreading his wings.
But he couldn’t and stayed put right there.
“We’ve got to make him well again.”
“Yes, mamà, but how?”

From her first-aid box, mamà produced cotton wool and bandages.
From the oversized book about oversized birds,
Melissa and Klarissa discovered it was a flamingo
a young one (though big as a rig).
They also found out what he ate and drank.
When he’s bigger he’ll be rosy all over. He might even turn crimson.
“My my, what a bird!”

Every morning and evening the children took insects and shrimps
to Flame the flamingo. Mamà changed his bandage every once in a while.

And gradually Flame became bigger
and his tattered wing bloomed with bright feathers.

Until one day…
One day in a looking-glass sky a big,
beautiful bird flew by.

“No, no mamà, that’s not where we’ve arrived.”
“Where are we, then, Klarissa?”
“We’re right at the end.”

One day, Flame, the big bird,
got to his long spindly legs and unfurled
a huge pair of wings. He was finally ready to fly.
To set off through the looking-glass sky.

To a place far away.
Where no one could wound him again.
Melissa and I gave him a smacking big kiss and we said
to take care. Then we climbed up to the roof.
And we waved till he was no longer there.

明根鸟
作者：克莱尔.阿佐帕尔迪
插图：丽莎.弗尔宗
译者:阿尔伯特.盖特

从前，明镜般的天空上，一只大鸟飞过，高兴地在空中俯冲。长途飞行后，大鸟四处看，想找地方休息。

“不不，妈妈，故事一开始不是这么讲的。”
“克拉丽莎，那故事应该怎么讲？”
从前，有只小鸟飞过来。不对，这鸟既不太大，也不太小。它在高空中找了个地方停下来，上下盘旋着，四方看
……
“不不，妈妈，故事一开始不是这么讲的。”
“那应该怎样，梅丽莎？
从前，有个猎人，他骑着滑板车，手里拿着梅子色的枪。明镜般的天空中，有只不大不小的玫红色鸟儿飞过来。
猎人瞄准鸟儿，向着天空举起枪，射中了鸟儿，故事应该这样讲。

轰隆隆……

“妈妈，妈妈！有飞机！”
“花园里吗？别开玩笑了。”
“可是它的翅膀好大好大，像海象一样！”
“克拉尔，也许是只仙鹤。”
“仙鹤？”
“或者也可能是鹈鹕，茶隼，百灵鸟。”
“再或者，也可能是条龙？”
悄无声息的，倚在妈妈肩膀上的梅丽莎（克莱丽莎不知道跑哪儿去了）
打开门，来到花园。
他们向外瞄：
梅丽莎先出来
接着妈妈
克莱丽莎在后边。

不是飞机也不是仙鹤
当然也不是龙！
是一只大鸟跌到了花园里。
它的翅膀灰白相间，带点玫红色。
鼻子像个胡萝卜，弯弯曲曲乱七八糟。
腿细长如纺锤，像成年人踩的细高跟。
妈妈吓坏了，紧紧关上门。
“这是什么？他是谁？从哪儿来，他怎么了……？克莱丽莎，她又跑哪儿去了？”
她在沙发下吗？不在。
在沙发椅下吗？不在。
也许在地毯下？也不在。
克莱丽莎，你去哪儿了？

克莱丽莎不知道这只大鸟从哪里来，也不知道他的名字
或者他要去哪里。但是她坐在他旁边，因为
她觉得他很温柔
她看到他受伤了
他很害怕
“我叫克莱丽莎。我姐姐叫玛丽莎，妈妈叫拉丽莎。你呢，你叫什么？”
妈妈和玛丽莎出现了
大鸟抖了抖身子
试着扑腾翅膀
但他无力动弹，只能呆在原地
“我们得把他治好。”
“是啊，妈妈，不过怎么治？”

妈妈从急救箱里拿出了脱脂棉和绷带
翻了翻那本讲大鸟的大书
梅丽莎和克莱丽莎发现这是一只火烈鸟
还是年轻的火烈鸟（虽然他跟个钻机一样重）
他们找到了属于他的食物
随着年纪增长，他全身都会变成玫红色，甚至是深红色。
“天哪，天哪，这只大鸟！”

每天早晚，孩子们拿着虫子和虾
来喂他。每隔一小会儿，妈妈就给他换绷带。

终于火烈鸟长大了
受伤的翅膀逐步恢复，变得羽翼丰满。

直到有一天
有一天在澄澈的天空上
大大的漂亮鸟儿飞过去。

“不不，妈妈，故事到这儿不是这么讲。”
“那故事到这儿怎么讲，克莱丽莎？”
“故事要结尾啦。”

有一天，大大的火烈鸟
迈着细长腿，展开大大的翅膀
准备飞走了
向着澄澈的天空出发

飞到更远的地方
那里没有人能再伤害他
梅丽莎和我给了他一个响当当的吻
我们叮嘱他
照顾好自己。
接着我们爬到房顶
挥手道别，直到看不见他的踪迹。