Jadę raz na targ, a żaby zaczynają jargotać i jedna mówi:

-Zdun, zdun, zdun! – jak to żaby jargoczą. Mnie się wydawało, że ona mi się sprzeciwia. To ja wziąłem jedną doniczkę i chciałem ją uderzyć. Nie trafiłem. Drugą wziąłem i też nie trafiłem. Za trzecim razem trafiłem ją. Jak ją uderzyłem, to dopiero powiada:

-Majster.

Dopiero mi się to podobało, że jestem majster, a nie zdun. Ujechałem dalej, to samo:

-Zdun, zdun!

Po drodze wyrzuciłem pół woza doniczek. Przyjeżdżam na targ. Sprzedałem doniczki, ale mało pieniędzy przywiozłem do domu. Żona z wałkiem do mnie:

-Gdzieś ty pieniądze zadział?!

Ja dopiero jej opowiadam.

-A ty głupi – powiada – coś ty zrobił? Szkoda twojej roboty – powiada. – Żaby, jak to żaby, jargocą, a tyś myślał, że się tobie sprzeciwiają.

Dionizjusz Czubala, Marianna Czubalina, „Anegdoty, bajki, opowieści garncarzy”

Opowiadał garncarz Wacław Horoszkiewicz z Łukowa, zapisane w 1972 r.

The Potter Who Argued with Frogs

Long ago, a potter was driving his wagon full of freshly made flowerpots to the local market. It had taken him days of hard work to shape, fire, and prepare the pottery, and he hoped to earn good money from the trip.

As he traveled along a muddy country road, he passed a marsh filled with frogs.

The frogs croaked loudly.

To the potter’s ears, however, it sounded as though one frog was repeatedly calling out:

„Potter! Potter! Potter!”

The man frowned.

The more he listened, the more convinced he became that the frog was making fun of him.

Finally, unable to tolerate the insult, he grabbed a flowerpot from the wagon and hurled it at the frog.

Miss.

He threw another.

Miss again.

The third flowerpot struck its target.

The frog disappeared beneath a splash of water.

At that very moment, the potter thought he heard a different sound.

„Master craftsman.”

The man smiled.

Now that was more respectful.

Pleased with himself, he continued toward the market.

But before long, another frog began croaking.

Again it sounded like:

„Potter! Potter!”

The potter became furious.

One by one, flowerpots flew from the wagon toward every frog he encountered.

By the time he reached the market, nearly half his merchandise was gone.

He sold what remained and returned home with far less money than expected.

His wife immediately noticed.

When she asked where the missing money had gone, the potter proudly explained how he had taught those disrespectful frogs a lesson.

His wife listened patiently.

Then she shook her head.

„You fool,” she said. „Frogs croak because they’re frogs. They weren’t talking to you.”

Only then did the potter realize that he had destroyed half his own work while arguing with creatures that had never said a word to him.

And ever since, the story has been told as a reminder that not every voice we hear is speaking about us.

Original source: Dionizjusz Czubala and Marianna Czubalina. Anegdoty, bajki, opowieści garncarzy. Tale narrated by potter Wacław Horoszkiewicz of Łuków, recorded in 1972

Translated into English by Karolina Zabielska