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Bogologolo-tala go ne go nale phokoje ya seeleele ebile e le motlapa. Phokoje o ne a dula le rragwe wa motsofadi kwa sekgweng sa Kgalagadi.
Long ago, there was a foolish lazy jackal. He lived with his old father in the Kalahari bush.
Ka moso o o latelang fa monnamogolo Phokoje a tsoga, o ne a fitlhela morwa wa gagwe wa motlapa a robetse mo letsatsing. O ne a sa apaya ebile dipodi di sa le mo lesakeng!
“Mosimane ke wena, o motlapa! Tsamaya o ye go batla mosadi. Ke setse ke tsofetse gore nka go tlhokomela,” ga rialo monnamogolo. Phokoje o ne a tlola mme a isa dipodi mafulong.
One morning Old Jackal woke up to find his son sleeping in the sun. The food was not ready and the goats were still in the kraal!
“Young man, you are so lazy! Go and find a wife. I am too old to look after you,” said Jackal’s father. So Jackal jumped up and took the goats out to graze.
Phokoje o ile a bona phatsimo mo sekgweng mme a makala. O ile a tsmaela gaufi le letlapa le le neng le bontsha phatsimo. Fa a ntse a atamela, phatsimo e e ne e bontsha bontle jo bo seng kana ka sepe. Ka gongwe se e ka nna mosadi wa gagwe?!
In the bush, he saw something shining on a rock. He went closer and closer to the rock. The closer he got, the more beautiful the shine was. Perhaps this was the wife for him?!
“O montle jang,” Phokoje a rialo mo phatsimong e. “Mme fela o mang? Ke goreng o le esi?”
“Ke nna letsatsi,” phatsimo ya araba. “Ba lelapa la me ba ntlogetse fa fa ba fuduga. Ba ne ba sa batle go ntsaya. Ke fisa thata.”
“You are beautiful,” said Jackal to the shine. “But who are you? Why are you alone?”
“I am the sun,” the shine answered. “My family left me here when they moved on. They did not want to carry me. I am too hot.”
Phokoje a re, “A bontle jo bo kana! Ke tla go tsaya. Ke tla go isa kwa lapeng la me go ya go kopana le rre.”
“Go siame, o ka ntsaya. Mme fela o se ngongorege fa ke nna mogote thata,” ga rialo letsatsi.
The jackal said, “But you are so beautiful! I will carry you. I will take you home to meet my father.”
“All right, you can carry me. But do not complain when I get too hot for you,” said the sun.
Phokoje o ne a rwala letsatsi ka mokotla wa gagwe mme ba simolola loeto lwa go ya gae. Go se go ye kae, ke fa letsatsi le fisa moriri wa ga phokoje wa mokotla.
“A o ka fologa mo mokotleng wa me? Ke tlhoka go ikhutsa,” ga rialo Phokoje. Mokotla wa gagwe o ne o le botlhoko tota ebile a sa kgone le go tsamaya.
“Tswelela go tsamaya!” ga rialo letsatsi. “ Ke go boleletse gore ga ke batle dingongorego tsa gago!”
So Jackal put the sun on his back and started the journey home. Before long, the sun was burning Jackal’s fur.
“Will you please come down from my back? I need to rest,” said Jackal. His back was so sore that he could hardly walk.
“Just carry on!” said the sun. “I told you not to complain!”
Phokoje o ne a bona legong le legolo go kgabaganya tsela. O ile a gagabela ka fa tlase ga lona gore letsatsi le tle le wele mo fatshe. Mme legong le ile la goga letlalo la ga Phokoje le moriri wa lona mme le tsone tsa sala kwa morago le letsatsi.
Then Jackal saw a log across the path. He crawled under the log so that the sun would fall off.
Phokoje wa batho o ne a ya gae kwa ntle ga letlalo le moriri mo mokotleng, le mosadi tota a sena ena.
Rragwe o ne a oka letlalo la gagwe ka dioli tse di kgethegileng. Letlalo la gagwe le moriri di ne tsa gola sentle gape.
But the log also scraped the skin and fur from his back and they were left behind with the sun.
Fela letlalo le lešwa le moriri wa gagwe di ne di farologana le tsa mmele otlhe wa gagwe. Se e ne ya nna segopotso mo go ena gore a se tlhole a tlaela gape.
The new fur was a different colour to the fur on the rest of his body. The different colours always reminded Jackal not to be so foolish again.
