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It is from the gods’ abode that the Bees come.
The first, they say, went to dwell
On Mount Hymettus, and to gorge themselves
On the treasures that the zephyrs keep in that place.
When from the palaces of these daughters of Heaven
Had been taken the ambrosia enclosed in their chambers,
Or, to say the thing in French,
After the honey-less hives
Had nothing left but Wax, many a candle was made;
Many a Candle too was fashioned.
One of them, seeing brick hardened in fire
Conquer the strength of years, felt the same desire;
And, a new Empedocles condemned to the flames,
By his own pure folly,
He threw himself in. It was ill reasoned;
This Candle knew not a grain of Philosophy.
Everything is diverse: banish from your mind
The idea that any being was composed on your own model.
The Empedocles of Wax melted in the brazier:
He was no more foolish than the other.
Jean de La Fontaine
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-candle-jean-de-la-fontaine/