The White Elephant

Fable by Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian Period 18th century

In certain lands of Asia
they revere elephants,
especially white ones.
A palace is their stable,
they are served in vessels of gold,
every man at their sight bows down to the earth,
and peoples wage war
to carry off this beautiful treasure.
One of these elephants, a great thinker, a good head,
wanted to know one day from one of his drivers
what earned him so many honors,
since at bottom, like any other, he was only a beast.
Ah! replies the mahout, that is too much humility;
your dignity is known,
and all India knows that upon leaving life
the souls of heroes cherished by their homeland
go to dwell for a time
in the bodies of white elephants.
Our talapoins have said it, so the thing is certain.
-What! You believe we are heroes?
-No doubt. -And without that we would be at rest,
enjoying in the woods the goods of nature?
-Yes, my lord. -My friend, let me leave then,
for you have been deceived, I assure you;
and, if you will reflect on it,
you will soon see the imposture:
we are proud and affectionate;
moderate, though all-powerful;
we are never seen to wrong
one weaker than ourselves; love in our heart
receives laws from modesty;
despite the favor in which we stand,
honors have never altered our virtues:
what more proofs are needed?

Florian

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

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