Harlequin’s Coat

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

You know that quay named for scrap iron,
where birds, men, and flowers are sold:
it is often there that I work on my fables;
I see animals there, and I observe their ways.
One Shrove Tuesday I was at the window
of a bird-seller, a friend of mine,
when on the quay I saw appear
a nimble little harlequin, well made, well dressed,
who, stick in hand, with a light grace,
ran after a mask in a shepherdess’s dress.
The crowd applauded with laughter, with shouts.
Quite near me, in a cage,
three foreign birds of different plumage,
parakeet, cardinal, canary,
were also watching the harlequin.
The parakeet said: I hardly like his face:
but his charming coat never had its equal;
it is of such a fine green! Green! Said the cardinal:
so you cannot see, my dear?
The coat is red, assuredly;
that is what makes it charming.
Oh! As for that one, my friend,
replied the canary, you are not right,
for the coat is lemon yellow;
and it is that yellow that gives it all its merit.
-It is green. -It is yellow. -It is red,
by Jove!
Each interrupts with fire,
and already the trio grows angry.
Friends, calm down, a good woodpecker cries to them;
the coat is yellow, red, and green.
That surprises you greatly; here is the whole mystery:
like many people of wit and learning,
but who look at a matter from only one side,
each of you wants to see in it
only the color that happens to please him.

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-harlequins-coat-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/