DIGITAL FAIRY TALES: Water Stories (Wassermärchen)

Translated Texts

Translated by Sanjana Nair and Nicole Callihan

The Water Women, the Belt & the Collar

The king’s daughter was so ugly that she herself became ugly, and she liked no one, and was despised by everyone, which of course, hurt her very deeply. She wept in her lonely chamber over her fate.

One day, a little man suddenly appeared in front of her, in her lonely chamber, and he handed her three plums, delivering the words: "Go to the water at the kingdom’s edge and toss each plum, one at a time, into it. Two shining women of the water will appear, both brighter and even more beautiful than the sun. When they appear, toss the second plum in and it will bring one of the water women ashore, to you. When she is close, you must take her gleaming belt. Then, throw the third plum into the water and the second water woman will come ashore to you. You must take her gleaming collar. When you adorn yourself with the belt and collar, you will be the most beautiful woman in the world. Your beauty will shine like the light of the sun. But be warned, if you wear the belt and the collar inside out, you will instantly become invisible. You must never lose the belt or the collar, so store them carefully, whatever may come."

And with those words, the little man was gone as suddenly as he had appeared.

The desperate and ugly daughter went straight to the waters at the edge of the kingdom and did all that the little man had advised. She threw the first plum into the water and sure enough, two water women appeared who were so beautiful that the girl could scarcely look at them. The ugly princess threw the second plum into the waters and one of the two water women came ashore. The ugly princess asked for the belt and the water woman gave it to the girl, saying "You will marry a handsome prince, and he will make you queen, but in return you must give me your third child, when the child is in the third year of life."

The ugly princess listened closely, not believing a prince would want her or that she would ever have to give away a child, and then she threw the third plum into the water. The second water woman, no less beautiful than the first, came ashore and when the ugly princess asked for it, the water woman gave the girl her collar. "This is now yours, but the price is that you must swear to give me your most beautiful child!” Without another thought, the ugly girl swore to the oaths and donned both the belt and collar.

She did indeed become the most beautiful girl in the whole country, and some say, even the world. Wherever she walked, in the garden or in the lanes, her beauty radiated from her. All of nature bloomed and became a paradise around her. The prince of a wealthy neighboring kingdom soon came to ask for her hand in marriage. The ugly daughter had become a beautiful princess, and then a beautiful queen and her beauty grew even more when she became the mother to many royal children.

Their third child together was a very beautiful boy, a baby prince who was far more beautiful than the two royals born before him. On his third birthday, his wet-nurse went walking in the gardens, then near the waters at the kingdom’s edge, where the shining water woman suddenly appeared, seizing the small prince, before disappearing with him, sinking into the dark depths of the waters.

In her despair, the princess continued to hide the secret origins of her beauty and made up a story of the beautiful boy drowning, blaming the wet-nurse, whom they quickly dismissed and banished. And though the guards searched and searched the waters for the boy, he was never found.

Even as the beautiful queen mourned, more children were born.

The sixth son was as beautiful a newborn as anyone had ever seen, more beautiful than all his siblings put together. The king loved the small prince more than his own life, and the queen forbid that anyone should ever take her sixth born anywhere near the waters at the kingdom’s edge.

One evening a woman came to the castle, her head draped in a white veil, begging for a night’s lodging. As was the custom with the needy who asked for help, she was given a room to stay, and when everyone in the castle was fast asleep, she stole into the room of the sleeping sixth prince and disappeared with him.

The next morning, the guards swore they saw no one in the corridors of the small prince’s nursery and whispers grew that strange magic must be at work. Messengers were sent everywhere, searching in vain for the boy, and as they traveled, so traveled the whispers of dark magic throughout the kingdom.

How was it that both of the most beautiful of the king and queen’s babies mysteriously disappeared? While children were often taken by sickness, these circumstances were strange. Again, they found no prince, and no comfort.

The rumors reached the king’s ears and he questioned his wife about the vanished princes. The queen finally broke down in tears, confessing the secret of her beauty. In a fury of grief and shame she went back to the waters and cast herself, clad in both the belt and collar, into them.

Mysteriously, she did not get wet nor did she drown. Instead, she sank down and down and down until she arrived at the magnificent palace of the water women. There, she discovered them living with both of the disappeared princes. Already, the boys had changed under the care of the water women; each had the feet of a goose and webbed-skin-hands.

The princess rose to the surface and patiently waited by the edge of the water. She reversed the belt and collar, remembering what she had been told. She became invisible and stayed there, waiting patiently.

When the water women finally ascended with her boys to play and splash on the surface, she seized the moment. She grabbed each of her two children and fled, invisible thanks to the reversed belt and collar.

When the water women realized the boys were gone, they sent the waters into such a terrible rage of waves that crashed in such violence that it seemed everything and everyone would perish.

But back at the palace, the queen refastened the belt and collar upright on her frame and her beauty returned. The two beautiful, if webbed boys, were magically home, the mood was quite different. Back in the Fürstenburg, there was great joy. All of the kingdom rejoiced at the safe return of their small princes and no one dared ask how.

The Pond Aquarius

The village of Aquarius sat on the Pond Aquarius, a famous place that those from near and far would visit.

Now this pond was no ordinary pond, and the village no ordinary village. Tales spread far and wide about the beauty of the girls in the village, and it was believed by many that their beauty came from bathing in the pond’s waters.

So it came to pass that many village girls from far and wide made the journey to the waters of Aquarius in order to bathe in them and become more beautiful, themselves.

The waters worked; but none of the girls from elsewhere could ever maintain the magical beauty. It faded within days or hours of their bathing and only the girls born in the village seemed to maintain the glow of the water’s secret gift.

Still, the girls from other villages were desperate to be beautiful. Some stayed in the water so long in hopes of keeping their beauty that they drowned.

Young men, suitors all, heard of the famed beauty of the village girls. They came from far and wide in hopes of securing a bride of Aquarius.

It happened that four glorious princes, the future rulers of neighboring kingdoms named after the sky for all their glory and wealth, came to the village in pursuit of their future brides and queens. The four sweetest and most beautiful of the girls were chosen, and it was decided that a joint wedding would be held to rival all weddings.

The people of the village would bear witness to the four unions, and the grandest of feasts, and the greatest of ales and wines would be served as if without end.

The four neatly dressed grooms lined up before their beautiful brides and villagers from near and far danced deep into the night, eating from the mounds of plums served on silver platters and the drinking from the reserves of the deep, rich ales of the princes’ four kingdoms.

In the early and still-dark dawn of the morning following the honeymoon night, terrible and mournful cries filled the air. From the rooms of the newlywed couples a terrible noise rose and rose and pierced the air.

The villagers rubbed the sleep from their eyes and emerged from their homes into the darkness. “What is making those terrible sounds,” they said in confusion, “What do you see?”

And they saw the shadows of each prince, every one of the four grooms, dragging each of his brides out into the street by her hair as she wailed and screamed. The princes were beating the women, and the fearful villagers did not know what to make of it. They tore at the bodies of their beautiful brides until they had no more strength to harm them more.

Then, as if by magic, each of brides rose and swiftly ran away as if no harm had been done to them.

The princes raged and swore that they had been tricked by the dark magic of the town. They said the women they had married were not women at all, but fish. In the night, the magic of the waters wore off and the bodies of the girls were covered in scales, revealing their true nature. The princes threatened vengeance against the girls and people of the town and the judge rushed to the scene with his servants to rule on the tragedy.

The princes demanded that every last one of the girls of the town be examined for punishment, but the judge hastened to intervene and instead passed a decree that the four brides would not have fled without all of their magical friends, and that the remaining girls of the village be left untouched. Of the four brides, he ordered that they be hunted down, that a funeral pyre be built and that the brides would burn for their dark deception.

The new brides were found hiding in the woods and were dragged to the pyres and tied up. The flames began to burn and rise higher and higher, but not one sound came from the girls. Suddenly, the waters of the Pond Aquarius rose in the form of a great fist that appeared to have the shape of a head as it moved through the town and came crashing down on the flames and the girls, putting out the fires.

The brides were not drowned or burned. They seemed to join and rise with the great fist of water, and they rode it as if the water were no more than a great bridge built just for them. The village folk and the princes watched aghast as the girls seemed to run over the great, moving fist of water and disappear.

No one ever saw them again. And from that time onwards, no girl ever bathed in the Pond Aquarius again, no matter the promise of beauty.

Three Giants and the Golden Apples

There was once a woman who had three lovely children, but still felt she had nothing for which to live. She went to the water’s edge and was about to cast herself in to drown, when a voice cried out to stop her, saying “Do not do this! Go over and beyond the mountains and you will find your happiness there!”

Oddly enough, the phrase was echoed two times more before it was gone.

The woman called out “Hello?” over the water, but no response came. The mountains were treacherous, but as the woman felt she had nothing to live for, she decided she might as well try.

Days into her journey, tired and cold, she came upon a lone house in the mountains. She knocked on the door, begging alms of food and shelter from the man who lived there. He lived alone and while he had little, he was glad to share his fire and food with her. He heard her tale with disbelief, urging her to go home to her children, assuring her that better times would surely come. Warmed by his words and compassion, she left to make her way back home to her children.

Cold winds blew and a terrible snowstorm came down and she became lost, arriving instead at a vast expanse of seemingly endless ice. She had come to the edge of the Arctic Ocean where three giants sat, playing with three golden apples. They huddled close together, each wearing a giant felt hat with a huge brim which sheltered them from the rain and the snow and the cold. Just then, a huge gust of wind came and carried off the giants’ hats, which landed at the poor woman’s feet! They caught sight of her and offered her three golden apples if only she would bring their hats back to them. For, though the giants were powerful, they could not go beyond the edge of the Arctic Sea and ice.

Though the hats were heavy, and she had to drag them one at a time to the giants, she did as she was asked and the giants kept their word, giving her three of the precious golden apples. Before she left, the giants advised her “You may sell the silver leaves of the apples for great sums, but never the stems, which you should keep. If you tap the stalk of one of the apples three times, you will be granted a wish that is sure to be fulfilled!”

She hastened home and did as she was instructed, fetching tidy sums for the leaves of the apples, while carefully saving and hiding the stems.

She became quite rich and content. She decided it was time for each of her three daughters, now grown women, to marry.

Knowing that it was the advice of the lone man in the cabin in the mountains that lead both she and her daughters to such good fortune, she decided to go back and thank him. She offered him her eldest daughter and one of the precious apple stems, but the man became greedy, demanding two of the stems. The woman reluctantly agreed, setting off on her journey back home to retrieve the second stem, but once again, she went astray and came upon the frozen Arctic Sea where the three giants dwelled.

In their loneliness, after listening to her tale, they asked for her three daughters in marriage, offering her seven more goldens apples in exchange. They vow that the daughters would also have great felt hats and rich robes and warm dens and vast joy in their lives with the giants.

The woman considered, liking the offer far more than the demands of the lonely man in the cabin in the mountains. The wealthy and generous giants seemed much better prospects than the greedy man in the lonely mountains. All three of her daughters would be well matched and they would have each other as well.

She agreed to the giants’ request, delivering her daughters to them.

The giants welcome their new brides, leading each into the grand ice palaces they would come to call home, hidden deep below the great Arctic Sea.

They all lived happily with one another, and as each child was born, another ice giant was added to their numbers.

The Fox, the Hare, & the Wee Loaf

Fox and Rabbit were once friends. Often, they came together and walked, and more than once they met a baker girl with a basket of fragrant breads. Fox was keen on having the wee loaf. “Oh,” he said to Rabbit, “I would like to have the wee loaf now!”

“Me too!” said Rabbit.

Because Fox was Fox, he was sly. He said to Rabbit, “Dear friend, when the girl comes back with her basket, pretend to be sick! Pretend you can’t jump! Hop on only three legs, and then place your little Rabbit body in front of the girl. Show her how lame you are!”

When the baker girl returned and witnessed the poor rabbit, she was struck with compassion and placed her basket on the ground to attend to the animal. Just then, Fox snuck in, stole the basket, and carried the delicious wee loaf into his burrow. Frightened, the baker girl scampered off, and Rabbit, jumping on all fours to the burrow, searched for the fragrant breads.

Fox, in his hovel, sat straight up, counting his spoils. “This wee loaf belongs to me; this wee loaf, to my father; this, to my grandfather; these to all my fellow foxes!” And so, poor Rabbit received nothing—save a single thought of revenge—and went home hungry.

Many months passed, and on a brittle cold winter day, Rabbit invited Fox for a walk along the river. “Come,” Rabbit said. “Let’s go fishing!” Fox happily obliged, and the two trotted toward the river. But the river was frozen. Rabbit gestured towards a fisherman. “Over there,” he told Fox. “That’s where most of the fish are. Cut a hole in the ice. I would like to hang my frond in as an angel, but my stubby tail is much too short. You, fox, can do it easily.”

The fox, charmed, dipped his magnificent tail into the river. An icy chill swept through his body. His tail was frozen as hard as a week-old loaf. Rabbit picked up a stick and began striking Fox. “This one is for you,” he said. “And this one is for your father! And this, for your grandfather! And this, to all your fellow foxes!!!”

Rabbit laughed with each stroke and went on until they were both half-dead, until they were nothing but flesh, blood, fat, excrement, hair, bellows, eyes, ears, paws, and tail. And since then, Fox and Rabbit are no longer friends.

The Golden Scale

Swimming in the sunlight in the fountain of the castle garden was something shiny. One day, a homeless boy who counted sheep in the mountains, came upon the shiny thing and took it.

In the corner of the stable, the boy hides his find under pine chips. It is a small, golden fish scale. He weighs it in his hand and thumbs the shimmering thing to make it shinier still. One evening, the young castle woman, whose beauty is as closed as a dead fish’s mouth is open, stands in front of him. The boy, startled because she has never eyed him before, throws himself at her feet. The young castle woman looks at him and strokes his wild hair from his forehead. “You’re a beautiful young man,” she says. “You would be better than my husband!”

The husband, the count, having overheard the two, grabs the boy and throws him down the rocks to the foot of the mountain.

If this happens to you, you will forget everything until your very last days.

But the boy did not land at the foot of the mountain. He fell instead into a strange, soft pond where there had never been water before and jumped safely to the road.

On the road, a good-hearted hermit dragged a heavy sack. “Please help me carry this heavy bread sack to my hut,” the hermit said. And the boy did, and the boy stayed with him. After some years, the boy, desiring to pay the hermit back, becomes a servant in the castle.

One day, the boy who is now a servant, grows bored. He pulls his golden scale and begins, again, to rub it shiny. Suddenly, the castle woman, no longer as young, appears again, smiling. “Please get away from here,” the servant pleads, trembling in fear like aspen leaves. “I felt so much shame when you last saw,” the servant says. “A second time will be even worse.”

“Darling,” the castle woman says. “Don’t be afraid. I will be all yours if you let me hold your scale.” The servant realizes the evil of his find, and though he wants badly to give something to the castle woman, he is church-mouse poor. The castle woman starts to weep. She sits by the servant’s feet. She kisses him hard on the mouth. They grow boiling hot for each other. She moves in him and through him. His senses disappear, and he no longer knows what he is doing. When the servant wakes from the frenzy, he is alone and certain he was dreaming. He searches for his scale, but it is gone.

One loss teaches us another.

The boy who was now a servant fell ill from sheer love. He returned to the hermit who cared for him as if he were his own son. But the image of the beautiful woman would not leave the servant’s heart. He brooded with longing day and night; his grief was so vivid that he revealed his suffering to the hermit. The hermit questioned him about his earliest days of childhood and nodded thoughtfully. The hermit himself was finding his own lost child in the servant, but he kept silent because he did not like to admit his own misfortunes. Further, he was the older brother of the count! This, too, he kept silent.

Belongings do not always belong.

After some months, the boy who was now a servant felt a strange restlessness pulling him away. The restlessness was a rope around his servant neck, and he found himself wandering back to the castle garden to once again visit the fountain. Pale moonlight illuminated the water as the servant shyly leaned over the edge of the fountain.

There, in the reflecting surface, the servant saw the castle woman lying, as if in a bath, her eyes closed, as if she were sleeping. Only the snow-white arms of the castle woman moved, and the servant noticed that on her delicate fingers, instead of nails, were golden scales. Finally, the castle woman moved. She recognized the servant and, releasing a silver belt from her body, tried to noose the servant and strangle him. The servant quickly grabbed the belt and ran, as if hounded by dogs, back to the hermit.

A day later, the boy who was now a servant arrived back at the home he shared with the hermit. The hermit had a visitor. It was the count. The count sat with the servant and engaged him in a familiar and forgiving conversation. But as soon as the tone softened it was interrupted when the count noticed what the servant held in his hand. “The belt of the castle woman!” the count yelled, lifting his sword to pierce the young man.

The hermit trembled. “Brother,” he said, “please stop! This is my son.” The count, bereaved, let the sword drop from his hand. He left the hermit’s dwelling, hurrying back to the fountain. Behind him, following closely, were his brother and his nephew.

The seawolves gnawed at bones.

As for the castle woman, she was now the water woman. Once a year, she had to bathe in order to strip away fish skin that had grown over the months. The belt protected her from her enemies, the seawolves, when she bathed. The water woman, thus, was at the mercy of the belt. She was lost without it.

Soon, the count went mad and died. His brother followed him into death too. This is how the boy who was once a servant became the lord of the castle. But, he was rewarded with no further luck. Without a wife, the boy who was once a servant and now the lord of the castle, ended his own gloomy life.