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The truth, all naked,
came out of her well one day.
Her charms had been somewhat destroyed by time;
young and old fled from her sight.
The poor truth remained there chilled to the bone,
finding no shelter where she could dwell.
Before her eyes comes to present herself
the fable, richly dressed,
wearing feathers and diamonds,
for the most part false, but very brilliant.
Ah! There you are! Good day, she said:
what are you doing here alone on a road?
The truth answers: you can see, I am freezing;
in vain I ask passersby
to give me a retreat,
I frighten them all: alas! I see it well,
an old woman obtains nothing more.
Yet you are my junior,
says the fable, and, without vanity,
everywhere I am very well received:
but also, dame truth,
why show yourself all naked?
That is not clever: look, let us come to an arrangement;
may a same interest bring us together:
come under my cloak, we will walk together.
Among the wise, because of you,
I will not be rebuffed;
because of me, among fools
you will not be mistreated:
serving, by this means, each according to his taste,
thanks to your reason, and thanks to my folly,
you will see, my sister, that everywhere
we will pass in company.
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-la-fable-et-la-verite-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian-2/