In a sunny meadow, there lived a little river named Dzvinka. Her water was clear as glass, and every evening, when the sun went down behind the forest, she began to sing a very quiet song. It was a lullaby for her fish.
"Loo-loo, loo-loo, little fish," Dzvinka whispered. "The butterflies are sleeping, the birds are sleeping, and it's time for you to sleep, too."
But one evening, a little fish named Plavunchyk didn't want to sleep. She splashed and jumped and laughed.
"I don't want to sleep! I want to play!" she cried, flipping through the water.
Dzvinka was worried. How could she calm this wriggly little one?
"Listen," murmured the river. "When you fall asleep, you have the most wonderful dreams. You swim far, far away, see a castle made of coral, and dance with friendly jellyfish."
"And what if I don't sleep?" asked Plavunchyk.
"Tomorrow you'll be too tired to swim fast or play hide-and-seek with your friends."
Plavunchyk thought. She really wanted to play with the little carp the next day!
"Dzvinka, please sing to me," she asked.
So the river rocked the water with gentle waves and sang about the moon looking into the water, the twinkling stars in the sky, and the warm sandy bottom.
"Loo-loo, loo-loo, close your eyes," hummed the lullaby.
Plavunchyk nestled against a soft waterweed. Her eyelids grew heavy. Dzvinka's song wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
The other fish were falling asleep too: little perch, carp, gudgeon, and even old catfish. They all listened to the hushed lullaby.
Mist twirled above the water. The moon smiled and spread a silver path across the waves.
Plavunchyk was fast asleep. She dreamed of a coral castle and her friends, who she would play with all day tomorrow.
And Dzvinka kept singing and singing her quiet song until the last fish in the river was asleep. Then she too grew still, only gurgling a little in her sleep.