An author complained that his best writings
were gnawed by mice.
In vain he changed his bookcase,
set every kind of rat trap,
and kept good cats;
nothing worked: prose, verse, drama, history,
everything was nibbled; the cursed mice
respected a hero and his glory no more
than the telling of a victory,
or a little bouquet for Chloris.
Our man, in despair, and one may well believe me,
to upset an author, little is enough,
throws a bit of arsenic into the inkwell;
then, in his anger, he writes.
As he had foreseen, the mice nibbled,
and died.
Serves them right, you will say; this author was right.
Far be it from me to believe so: there is no volume
that has not been bitten, bad or good;
and one dishonors one’s pen
by dipping it in poison.
Florian
Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.
Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/fable-the-author-and-the-mouse-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/
