The young musician Yanke is a text in the second volume of the fifth grade of the People's Education Press

Once upon a time there was a child named Yanke in Poland. He was thin, with a dark face and flaxen hair that fell over his sparkling eyes.

Yanke’s mother is a day laborer. After today, she doesn’t know where she will be tomorrow, like a swallow living under someone else’s roof. Yanke became a shepherd boy at the age of eight.

Yanke loves music very much. No matter where he goes, he can always hear music being played. He went to the woods to pick wild fruits. When he came home, his basket was often empty and he didn't pick a single wild fruit. He said: "Mom, there is music playing in the woods, oh! Oh!..."

In the fields, bugs played for him; in the orchard, sparrows sang for him. He listened attentively to all the sounds that could be heard in the countryside, thinking that they were all music. While he was stacking hay, he heard the wind making his wooden branches "whirr". Once, while he was listening to something, he was seen by the supervisor. The overseer took off his belt and gave him a severe beating that he would never forget.

Everyone calls him Little Music Yanko. When spring comes, he often goes to the river to make flutes. In the evening, frogs croaked, woodpeckers pecking at tree trunks, and beetles buzzed. Yanko lay by the river and listened quietly.

Murakami’s watchman often saw Yanke quietly hiding under the corner of the country hotel and listening. Someone was dancing in the hotel. Sometimes there was the sound of feet hitting the floor, and sometimes there was the sound of girls singing. The violin played light and soft music, and the cello harmonized with a low tone. The lights were shining in the windows, and Yanko felt that every pillar in the hotel was trembling, singing, and playing.

How beautiful the violin sounds! If only he could have a violin, Yanke would be willing to exchange everything for it. As long as he touches it, even just once, he will be satisfied.

Yanke made a violin by himself using tree bark and horsehair, but no matter how he played it, it didn't sound as good as the violin in the hotel. Its voice is small, too small, like a mosquito humming. But Yang Ke was still holding on all day long.

The landlord's servant had a violin, which he often played at dusk. How Yanko wanted to take a closer look at that violin! He once crept quietly past the haystack and climbed to the pantry door. The door was open, and the violin was hung on the wall facing the door. Yanko longed to have it in his hands. Even if it's just once, it can at least let him see clearly.