"Canta cucu, bata-l vina," Ion muttered into his pillow, quoting the old folk song. Cuckoo bird, may its fault be cursed.
Curiosity overrode his exhaustion. Ion stepped onto the porch and saw the bird fluttering wildly toward the high pasture. Then he smelled it: . Cover Canta alarma (Canta cucu bata-l vina)
The air in the mountain village was thick with the scent of pine and fresh morning dew. For Ion, the sound of the wasn’t just a part of nature—it was his personal, slightly mocking alarm clock. "Canta cucu, bata-l vina," Ion muttered into his
By the time the sun fully crested the peaks, the fire was out. The barn was saved, and the village was safe. Ion sat on a stump, covered in soot, breathing hard. Just then, a familiar shadow crossed the grass. The cuckoo landed on a nearby fence post, tilted its head, and gave one final, quiet cucu . Ion stepped onto the porch and saw the
High up the ridge, lightning from the dry storm the night before had ignited a patch of scrub brush near his neighbor’s barn. Because of the cuckoo’s "alarm," Ion was the first to see it. He grabbed his buckets and ran, shouting for the other villagers to wake up.