One day, I stumbled into a place so strange, people called it “Wonderland.” It wasn’t like the world we live in—anything could happen there, and the more improbable it seemed, the more likely it was to occur.
As I wandered, I saw a great city—Rome—and the Pope’s grand palace, all hanging on a single thin thread like clothes on a clothesline. Just imagine: such a vast city suspended by a single thread. Wouldn’t it fall when the wind blew? Yet it didn’t.
Further on, I saw a man without legs running faster than the flying horses in the sky. How could he run without legs? Yet he dashed away at incredible speed, vanishing in a flash.
Then I saw a knife—with a single flick, it sliced through a massive stone bridge. That huge bridge, made of stone, was cut clean through like tofu by a small knife.
Then a little donkey trotted past me, its nose gleaming silver. It was chasing two rabbits. Though the rabbits sprinted, the donkey caught up and outpaced them.
On a roadside tree, instead of leaves or fruit, there hung loaves of bread! White, fragrant loaves hung ripe on the branches, as if waiting to be picked.
I also saw an old goat, skinny as a rail, yet carrying a hundred barrels of oil and sixty cartloads of salt on its back. Burdened by so much, it still walked steadily, not stumbling once.
But the most unbelievable sight was a one-year-old baby. With arms outstretched, he flew from Trier to Strasbourg. That distance would take an adult several days on foot, yet he arrived in a single bound.
That great eagle in the sky, which usually soars, was swimming in the Rhine, paddling like a duck.
My ears weren’t idle either. I heard the fish in the river laughing and talking, their voices loud enough to reach the heavens. I also heard honey flowing like water from the valley up the mountain—have you ever seen water flow uphill? Yet there, the honey was indeed moving upward.
Two crows wielded sickles, cutting the grass with the diligence of farmers. Two mosquitoes built a bridge together, their tiny bodies hauling logs ten times their size. Two pigeons surrounded a wolf, plucking its fur one strand at a time, while the wolf dared not move.
Two little boys each grabbed a sheep and tossed it effortlessly, sending it flying far away. Two frogs sat in a field, threshing grain with their feet as if harvesting crops.
What astonished me most was two little mice dressed in tiny robes, holding miniature scepters, placing a hat on a big mouse and declaring it the “Archbishop.”Two cats were there too—one tugging a wolf’s tongue outward while the other laughed nearby.
A snail crawled slowly to the riverbank, dove in to swim, and ended up bumping into two lions, killing them both. Who could believe such a thing?
A barber stood there shaving a woman’s face.Though women shouldn’t grow beards, she had one, so the barber shaved diligently. Two infants still nursing nearby chimed in: “Mommy, don’t talk!” “Be quiet!” said the other. “We’re listening to the story!”
Two dogs dragged a mill out of the river, hauling it ashore with a splash. An old horse stood nearby and began speaking, articulating clearly like a teacher lecturing.
Four large horses stood in the yard, threshing grain without human guidance—they simply stamped their hooves on the ground. Two goats tended the fire, while a red mare stuffed bread into the oven. Suddenly, a rooster leaped up and crowed: “Cock-a-doodle-doo! The story’s over! Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
—Then, everything fell silent.
The Truth Behind the Story
This tale isn’t about real events but a fantastical expression. It uses a series of impossible scenarios to depict an “upside-down, chaotic” world. This style is common in folk tales or satirical literature, aiming to make people laugh while also prompting reflection: What would happen if the world became completely irrational?
These plots lack logic and don’t seek realism. Instead, through exaggeration and absurdity, they reflect people’s dissatisfaction with reality or their imagination of rules being broken.
What Lesson Does the Story Teach Us?
This story teaches us: Sometimes, life’s rigid adherence to rules can feel stifling. Imagining a completely upside-down world allows us to relax and laugh.
Yet it also reminds us: The real world requires order. If everything were reversed, even right and wrong became indistinguishable, life would descend into chaos.
So, while we can dream and imagine, we must remember that staying grounded is the foundation for living well.
