Beranda
Here I will share you other narrative text which is very interesting This story is "A Story about Red" and shared in English - Indonesian. For you who want to learn English using this narrative, here is the story for you.
A Story about Red
(English)
"Rosaura! Rosaura!" If you were tall enough, you might have seen a little splash of red in the tall grass. And if you had looked closer you might have seen a small girl wearing a red ribbon.
Rosaura was hiding from her mother and father. It was her favourite game. She crouched quietly, listening to the faint sound of her mother's voice.
All Rosaura could see were the swaying green stalks of the corn. They rustled above her head where the sky stretched clear and blue.
Suddenly, a bright yellow butterfly darted by. Rosaura jumped up to chase the butterfly, forgetting all about her hiding game.
All Rosaura could see were the swaying green stalks of the corn. They rustled above her head where the sky stretched clear and blue.
Suddenly, a bright yellow butterfly darted by. Rosaura jumped up to chase the butterfly, forgetting all about her hiding game.
"Rosaura! There you are," called her mother. "It's time for lunch." It was dark and cool in the cottage where Rosaura lived with her parents. Rosaura ate her meal quickly. She wanted to go back into the sunshine to play. As soon as she had finished her food she slipped down from her chair.
"Rosaura, where are you going?" called her mother. She caught a glimpse of Rosaura's red ribbon disappearing around the door. But Rosaura was already through the gate, and heading for the fields.
"Rosaura! Rosaura!"
Was that the sound of her mother calling, or the wind whispering in the corn? Rosaura was not sure. All day long through the hot summers she loved to run in the fields. Her feet were scratched and her toes bruised on stones as she chased after the mice hiding in the corn stalks. Her skin was brown as a nut from the sun. In her tangled black hair, her red ribbon fluttered.
The afternoon stretched out long and hot. As the sun reached the far side of the field, Rosaura's father walked back to the cottage. His eyes scanned the fields for Rosaura's red ribbon. But it was nowhere to be seen.
"Hasn't Rosaura come back yet?" asked her father as he came through the door.
"Not yet," said her mother, "I'm sure she'll be back soon."
But the supper was ready and still there was no sign of Rosaura. Now the sun had set, casting a red glow over the fields. Rosaura's mother and father stood at the door of their cottage, staring over the field, looking for the red ribbon.
"Rosaura! Rosaura!"
Soon the shadows were deep blue in the yard. It was too dark to see the red ribbon now. Rosaura's parents began to walk and call for her in the field. As night fell, they fetched lamp that lit up patches of corn and grass and startled the sleeping mice. But they could find no red ribbon. Rosaura's parents called and called all through the night. In the dawn, they stood alone and sad amongst the corn. The red morning sun lit up their tired faces.
"Look!" cried Rosaura's mother suddenly. "There she is!"
They began to run towards the red ribbon that she had spotted among the corn. But oh! It wasn't Rosaura's ribbon at all, but the red petals of a flower.
Rosaura's mother and father had never seen such a flower before. Her father looked away in disappointment.
"I see her!" he cried.
And again they ran towards the dear red ribbon. But it was another red flower. As the sun came up bright and strong, Rosaura's mother and father looked around the field. It was filled with red flowers swaying and fluttering in the tall grass. Rosaura's mother and father felt so sad.
"Rosaura won't be coming home anymore," said her mother. "She was always happier in the fields." "But the spirits have left us these flowers to remind us of her," said Rosaura's father.
"They will stay with us!"
Every year, when the corn ripened and the evenings grew long, Rosaura's parents stood at the edge of the fields and watched the red flowers dancing under the sun.
And that, say the Indians, is how the red poppy came to be.
Taken from Childcraft: World of Colour, 2003
Sebuah Cerita tentang Red
(Indonesian)
"Rosaura! Rosaura!"
Jika Anda cukup tinggi, Anda mungkin telah melihat percikan kecil merah di rerumputan tinggi. Dan jika Anda telah melihat lebih dekat Anda mungkin telah melihat seorang gadis kecil yang mengenakan pita merah.
Rosaura bersembunyi dari ayah dan ibunya. Itu permainan favoritnya. Dia berjongkok diam-diam, mendengarkan suara samar suara ibunya. Semua Rosaura bisa melihat adalah batang hijau bergoyang jagung. Mereka berdesir di atas kepalanya di mana langit membentang jernih dan biru. Tiba-tiba, kuning cerah kupu-kupu melesat oleh. Rosaura melompat untuk mengejar kupu-kupu, melupakan semua tentang permainan persembunyiannya.
"Rosaura! Ada Anda," menelepon ibunya. "Sudah waktunya untuk makan siang." Itu gelap dan dingin di pondok mana Rosaura tinggal bersama orang tuanya. Rosaura makan makan dengan cepat. Dia ingin kembali ke sinar matahari untuk bermain . Begitu dia selesai makanan dia merosot dari kursinya.
"Rosaura, di mana Anda akan pergi ? " menelepon ibunya. Dia melihat sekilas Rosaura pita merah menghilang di sekitar pintu. Tapi Rosaura sudah melalui pintu gerbang , dan menuju ladang. "!
Rosaura Rosaura!"
Apakah itu suara ibunya menelepon, atau angin berbisik di jagung? Rosaura tidak yakin. Sepanjang hari melalui musim panas dia suka berlari di ladang. Kakinya yang tergores dan jari-jari kakinya memar pada batu saat ia mengejar tikus bersembunyi di batang jagung. Kulitnya cokelat sebagai kacang dari matahari . Dalam rambut hitam kusut, pita merahnya bergetar.
Sore terentang panjang dan panas. Saat matahari mencapai sisi jauh dari lapangan, ayah Rosaura itu berjalan kembali ke pondok . Matanya mengamati kolom untuk pita merah Rosaura itu. Tapi itu tidak terlihat.
"Belum Rosaura datang kembali?" tanya ayahnya saat ia datang melalui pintu.
"Belum," kata ibunya, "Aku yakin dia akan segera kembali."
Tapi makan malam sudah siap dan masih tidak ada tanda-tanda Rosaura. Sekarang matahari telah terbenam, casting cahaya merah atas bidang. Ibu dan ayah Rosaura yang berdiri di pintu mereka pondok , menatap di atas lapangan, mencari pita merah.
"Rosaura! Rosaura!"
Segera bayangan yang biru di halaman . Itu terlalu gelap untuk melihat pita merah sekarang. Orang tua Rosaura mulai berjalan dan panggilan untuknya di lapangan. Saat malam turun, mereka diambil lampu yang menerangi patch jagung dan rumput dan terkejut tikus tidur. Tapi mereka tidak menemukan pita merah. Orang tua Rosaura yang disebut dan disebut sepanjang malam . Pada fajar, mereka berdiri sendirian dan sedih antara jagung. Matahari pagi merah menyala wajah lelah mereka.
"Lihat!" teriak ibu Rosaura tiba-tiba. "Itu dia!" Mereka mulai berlari menuju pita merah bahwa dia telah terlihat di antara jagung. Tapi oh! Itu bukan pita Rosaura sama sekali, tapi kelopak merah bunga. ibu Rosaura dan ayah belum pernah melihat bunga seperti sebelumnya. Ayahnya memalingkan muka dengan kekecewaan.
"Aku melihatnya!" serunya. Dan lagi mereka berlari menuju pita merah sayang. Tapi itu lain bunga merah . Saat matahari terbit cerah dan kuat, ibu dan ayah Rosaura itu memandang sekeliling lapangan. Itu penuh dengan bunga-bunga merah bergoyang dan berkibar di antara rerumputan tinggi. Ibu dan ayah Rosaura itu merasa sangat sedih.
"Rosaura tidak akan pulang lagi," kata ibunya. "Dia selalu bahagia di ladang." "Tetapi roh telah meninggalkan kita bunga-bunga ini untuk mengingatkan kita tentang dia," kata ayah Rosaura itu.
"Mereka akan tinggal bersama kita!"
Setiap tahun, ketika jagung matang dan malam hari menjadi panjang, orang tua Rosaura yang berdiri di tepi bidang dan menyaksikan bunga-bunga merah menari di bawah sinar matahari.
Dan itu, mengatakan India, adalah bagaimana poppy merah datang untuk menjadi.
