In different countries there are analogues of the saying "The curious Barbara's nose was torn off in the market"
Italian proverb- "the jug goes for lard" - "tanto va la gatta al lardo"
French proverb- "curiosity is not a good character trait" - "la curiosite est un vilain defaut"
Spanish proverb- "because of the mouth, the fish dies" - "por la boca muere el pez"
English proverb- "curiosity killed the cat" - "curiosity killed the cat"
Synonyms of the phraseological unit "Curious Barbara ..."
The know-it-all is taken to court, and the know-nothing is sitting at home;Do not poke your nose into someone else's millet;
The less you know the better you sleep;
What they do not say, do not inquire about;
You will know a lot - you will soon grow old;
Curiosity less and do more;
As you grow up with your mother, you will know everything;
Curiosity is not a vice, but a great beastliness;
There is a fight in the hut - the people are at the gate;
Don't poke your nose into other people's business.
Poem Curious Barbara (excerpt)
"Curious Barabara
Came to the market
And stuck it in her nose:
In boots, in sour cream, in lard,
In honey, in mustard, in turpentine ...
- What did you buy? How sold?
- Where was the samovar stolen?
- How many steam in a samovar?
What is the hole in the guitar for?
- What was found on the sidewalk -
Three pennies or five...
Threatened at the market
Tear off Varvara's nose."
<...>
(A. Usachev)
Andrey A. Usachev
Born in the capital Soviet Union July 5, 1958Adolescence and youth flew by for him unnoticed. After school, like all intelligent young men, he decided to enter the MIET (Moscow Institute of Electronic Technology). He studied at this faculty for four long years, when he realized that this path was not for him, he changed it to the philological faculty of Tver State University.
In his working career, he did not disdain any hard work. He was a watchman, a janitor, worked for some time as a drummer, became a dishwasher, worked as a beach cleaner in the summer, worked as a stage machinist at the Satire Theater, and did not shy away from intelligent work as an editor of the Funny Pictures magazine.
He wrote for a long time, but as they say, everything went to the table. His first poems were published in 1985.
Five years later, he sent his book of poems "If you throw a stone up" to the competition for young writers for children, where she unexpectedly received first prize.
Since 1991 he has been a member of the Writers' Union. In total, more than a hundred children's books by A. Usachev were published in our country. However, he also gained considerable popularity abroad. Two of his books were published in Ukraine, two books in Hebrew were published in Israel, and Moldova also decided to please its children with the publication of two of his works. In addition, it was published in Japan, Serbia and Poland.
The Ministry of Education of the Russian Federation recommended five of his books as teaching aids to study at school.
You, of course, have heard the saying: "The curious Barbara's nose was torn off at the market." Do you think this is a hoax? But no! They tore off Varvara's nose. Only not in the market, but in another place. It happened on an island that lies in the middle of a large river. There were bad rumors about this island: as if from time to time the living dead, devils, witches and other evil spirits gather there at night.
No one saw them with their own eyes, and did not know what they were doing there, but many heard groans, squeals, screams and terrible laughter rushing from the island. And something was shining there. Many would like to know what is happening on the island, but they were afraid to poke their nose there. Even during the day, rare daredevils dared to swim up to the island, but they were afraid to go ashore - you never know. And no one could even think of going there at night.
Barbara, too, did not differ in courage. But her curiosity was over the edge. Oh, over the edge! And how could she not be curious, if her exorbitantly long and sharp nose crawled through any crack, squeezed into the smallest hole. Varvara knew everything about everyone: who, with whom, where and when. Yes, not only did she know, she spread it all over the village. And if only she told the truth. So no! Truth is a spoon, and fiction is a ladle. For this, Varvara was not loved, they called her a liar, but they listened willingly - she lied very well.
Varvara knew everything that happened in her native village and its environs. And only the island remained a mystery to her. And this riddle haunted her. It seemed to her that her life would be lived in vain if she did not see with my own eyes what happens on the island at night, who groans and laughs there. Varvara was completely exhausted from curiosity, and ... one fine day she decided.
As soon as a fire was lit on the island and screams were heard, Varvara went ashore, got into a boat and set sail. Slowly she swam, looking back, with fear and trembling in her heart. Quietly she crept up to the island, went ashore and, stealthily, went into the light and the voices. Soon she saw a clearing illuminated by searchlights, in which something was happening. Varvara hid behind a wide tree trunk and began to watch.
In the middle of the clearing stood a pillar, and a girl of extraordinary beauty was tied to the pillar. The girl groaned and struggled, trying to break free from the bonds, but in vain. At the same time, on the edge of the clearing, not far from Varvara, a bipedal monster, huge, furry and clawed, was spinning and dancing. His bulging eyes were bloodshot and rotated alternately in one direction or the other. Varvara trembled with fear and pressed herself against a tree. Slowly rearranging huge knives, the monster moved towards the girl. The poor thing screamed wildly. Varvara couldn't help but scream too. The monster stopped, looked back in Varvara's direction, but seeing nothing, only let out a roar and let out a cloud of fetid smoke from its mouth. Varvara almost coughed from this stench.
The monster again moved towards the beauty, and its huge mouth grinned angrily. The girl continued to scream and fight, and the furry monster, growling and clattering its teeth, got closer and closer to her. It puffed the girl with fetid smoke and stretched out huge hands towards her. A little more and the monster will grab the poor thing. But then a young man ran out into the clearing.
- Anya!!! he shouted when he saw the girl.
- Vania!!! The beauty screamed back.
The monster turned to the uninvited guest and growled angrily.
- Run, Vanya, run! Leave me alone! the beauty pleaded. - He will kill you!
But Vanya drew his sword and boldly rushed at the monster. A struggle ensued between them, long, fierce, with wild cries and howls. Varvara bit her lips, scratched all her hands, rooting for Vanya. In the end, the young man defeated the monster and freed the beautiful girl. They embraced, and tears of joy flowed from Varvara's eyes.
Suddenly, both the girl and the young man, and the defeated monster disappeared in an instant, as if dissolved in the air. Only then Varvara noticed several people in black robes and black caps with tassels. They sat at the far end of the clearing from Varvara on tall stumps. Each had an inscription on his chest: JURY. The men in black were throwing cones into a bowl on the table in front of them. One of the JURY counted the cones in the bowl and announced loudly:
- Author number eleven gets sixty-eight bumps!
And after a pause:
- Author number twelve is invited to the clearing.
A pretty woman came into the world and started her fairy tale:
- There was a king. And he had a daughter.
Immediately, a king in luxurious robes with a crown on his head and a young princess appeared in the clearing. And the action took off. At the end of the fairy tale, the JURY threw cones into the bowl again, and after the announcement of the result, the next author came out.
Even before Varvara noticed the banner with the inscription: "FAIRY TALE COMPETITION", she guessed what was happening here. I figured it out and stopped being afraid. On the fifth or sixth tale, in order to better see the action, she came out from behind a tree and stood at the very edge of the clearing. But in vain! The hero of the fairy tale, a brave fellow, came to get even with Baba Yaga. Seeing the long-nosed Varvara, he mistook her for Baba Yaga, ran up to her, grabbed her by the nose, tore it off and threw it far, far away, right into the river - only poor Varvara heard a splash of water. Her nose went to the bottom of the river. Barbara screamed wildly:
- What have you done, damned!
And well done in response in a whisper:
- You are not acting according to the plot, Baba Yaga.
- What a Baba Yaga I am to you! Barbara got angry.
And then the young man heard wild laughter. He turned around and saw another Baba Yaga. The good fellow was confused, he does not know what to do next.
- It's a setup! the author shouted. - I don't have two Baba Yags!
The JURIES jumped off their stumps, approached the laughing Baba Yaga, and asked:
- Who are you?
- I am Baba Yaga.
- And who are you? Barbara was asked.
- I'm Barbara.
- Where did you come from?
- I live in the village, I came here by boat to see what you are doing here.
We have an audience! – the JURY was delighted.
- So why are you mocking the audience, Herods! yelled Barbara.
She took her hand away from her face, and everyone saw two holes where her nose had been. The weak half of the JURY collapsed into a swoon, and one of the remaining, the smartest, shouted:
- The authors!! Which of you has a doctor in a fairy tale?
- I have! someone replied.
- Start your own fairy tale quickly. Yes, right from the place where the doctor appears.
Instantly, out of thin air, a doctor appeared in the clearing with a medical case in his hand. Sobbing Varvara was pushed towards him.
“And so the doctor gave the woman a new nose, more beautiful than the previous one,” the author proclaimed, correcting the plot on the go.
The doctor took out tools, jars, flasks from his bag and began to conjure over Varvara. When he finished, he handed her a mirror. From the mirror, a beauty with a small, graceful nose looked at Varvara.
- Ah! - she just said.
For this tale, the author received the maximum number of cones.
Varvara returned from the island a completely different person. Nobody recognized her. And not only because Plastic surgery made her a beauty - Varvara herself changed. She no longer sticks her nose into other people's affairs and does not spread gossip about her neighbors around the village. She has no time to do this. She now has another hobby, much more interesting - Varvara composes fairy tales. That's a job, that's a job! There is where to turn around and amuse yourself with fables. Take at least a person, at least an animal, at least an inanimate object and send them where fantasy leads. Now no one calls Barbara a liar. On the contrary, Varvara in the village is a respected person, a storyteller, and both children and adults listen to her tales. When the light comes on on the island, the whole village gets into the boats and sails to the competition of fairy tales: to see others and cheer for their Varvara.
- Ba, let me knead pancakes, - Polinka, a girl of 4 years old, spun around at the feet of Nadezhda Semyonovna, - Ba, give me ...
Nadezhda Semyonovna slowly removed her great-granddaughter from the table. She carefully shook off the excess flour into the sink and turned to the little cook, who was still trying to reach her hands to the dough:
- These will not be pancakes, but shanezhki. This is first. And secondly, first put on something, otherwise you will be all in flour. Well, at least tie a towel around you.
“Bah, can I put on your apron?” Ba, can you teach me how to knead shanezhki? Bah, what are we going to eat with? Ba,….
Questions poured out of her like peas from a can. Here is the curious Barbara.
Nadezhda Semyonovna did not even try to answer. She knew that her great-granddaughter in this state still listens to her with only one ear. Polinka was really impressed by what was happening on the table.
- Bah, and shanezhki are like Easter cakes, right?
Nadezhda Semyonovna took a towel and wrapped it around the tiny body of her great-granddaughter.
- No, these are not cookies. This is different. This is such a pastry ... very homemade or something ...
And she turned back to the table.
Polinka felt that mentally they were again moving away from her, and immediately rushed to the chair and tried to drag it to the table. Then she scrambled up onto it and held out her hands to the dough.
- Come on, - Great-grandmother slapped the baby on the hands, - And you washed your hands. The dough requires purity, respect and slowness, and you are like a top.
Polinka pouted her lips at first, but where is there .... After all, there, on the table, there were shanezhki. And without her...
She jumped down from her chair, darted to the sink like lightning, rinsed her hands, and materialized again in her place.
The tiny hand reached for the dough again.
Nadezhda Semyonovna cut off a piece of dough with a knife and pushed it to her great-granddaughter.
- Bah, and the shanezhka because it is tender? Ba, do you know that I love your shorts? Ba, can you teach me?
- Well, tsits, do not crack. The dough does not like noise and fuss. You him so softly ...
She gently showed me how to knead the dough.
The phone rang at the wrong time. Nadezhda Semyonovna again dried her hands and picked up the phone:
- Yes, everything is fine ...
Polinka fussed more than usual:
“Bah, who is this?” Bah, tell 'em we're shanezhki. Bah, it's mom, right?
She jumped off her chair and, running up to her great-grandmother, grabbed her hand.
- Yes, you wait. Here is the curious Barbara .... She pushed her great-granddaughter away, trying to hold onto her towel, which was already somehow covered in flour.
Polinka turned away in disgust.
When the conversation was over, Nadezhda Semyonovna, embracing her great-granddaughter, said:
- Polinka, you can't do that. There are strangers there, and you are screaming. You can't be that curious. Curious Varvara's nose was torn off at the market, did you hear?
Polina's eyes widened and she, dumbfounded by this news, whispered?
- What for? Bah, why did they cut her nose off?
Nadezhda Semyonovna picked up her granddaughter and put her on a chair:
- And then. For her curiosity unhealthy. Understand?
So who is this Varvara, whose nose was torn off at the market?
There is such a story that in ancient times in Byzantium there was such a punishment for a caught thief - his nose was cut off.
In China, they cut off their hands, in Russia they flogged them with rods, and in Byzantium they cut their noses.
Cruel, of course, but very effective. Therefore, there were almost no thieves there. But there were a lot of visitors. And on trade matters, and travelers, and just dashing people who were attracted by everything unknown and forbidden.
And such here are not their people, aliens, at that time they called barbarians. Hence the Barbara.
And if such strangers were caught stealing, they could immediately feel the full gravity of their act. No excuses about ignorance of the law worked. The thief was left without a nose.
- Bah, I'm not Varvara, I'm Polinka. Bah, who called? Ba, but Baba Tanya is coming, - Polinka could hardly stay in her chair, trying to do everything together: asking questions, licking jam from a shanezhka and looking out the window.
Nadezhda Semyonovna went into the kitchen with a book.
“Now I’ll tell you who this curious Barbara is.
She sat down heavily on a chair and opened the book.
Children's poet Andrei Usachev.
Came to the market
And stuck it in her nose:
In boots, in sour cream, in lard,
In honey, in mustard, in turpentine ...
- What did you buy? How sold?
— Where was the samovar stolen?
— How many steam in a samovar?
What is the hole in the guitar for?
- What was found on the sidewalk -
Three kopecks or five? ...
Threatened at the market
Tear off Varvara's nose.
- How?! Barbara jumped up. —
Are they tearing their noses?
I would gladly buy
A couple of things for beauty?
And why do you have a mustache?
They took it here, and Varvara's nose
Ripped off at the market.
— Ah! – Barbara with curiosity
He looks at his nose. —
And say, abroad
Are noses in good demand?
- Where did you get the nose with a “potato”?
- Today they wear "kalach"?
- And you get scratched by a cat
Or hit with a stump?
Where?.. When?.. Why?.. How much?..
The people ran from the market.
Everyone is shouting: “Calm down, Barbara!”
- Guard! the people shout. —And without a nose - the nose is vain!
Having finished, Nadezhda Semyonovna took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. Then she raised them to her suspiciously silent granddaughter.
Polinka sat, pushing her cup away from her. Her tiny hand covered her even tinier nose.
Nadezhda Semyonovna smiled... After all, the poet has talent.
I am always glad to see you on the pages of the site "I want to know everything"
