Minos, no longer able to suffice
for the tiresome task of hearing and judging
every shade descended to the shadowy empire,
imagined, to shorten it,
to have a scale made
where in one of the pans he placed at once
five or six dead, in the other a certain weight
that determined the sentence.
If the weight rose, then more at leisure
Minos examined the matter;
if the weight sank, on the contrary,
without scruple he had them punished.
The method was sure, expeditious and clear;
Minos was well pleased with it. One day, at the same time,
at the bank of the Styx death gathers
two kings, a great minister, a hero, three scholars.
Minos has them weighed together.
The weight rises, he adds two,
and then three, it is in vain; four do no better.
Minos, a little surprised, removes from the scale
these useless weights, seeks another means;
and, near there seeing a poor man of good
who in an obscure corner awaited in silence,
he puts him alone as counterweight:
the six shades then rise at once.
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-scales-of-minos-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/
