The Cricket

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

A poor little cricket
hidden in the flowery grass
was watching a butterfly
fluttering in the meadow.
The winged insect shone with the brightest colors;
azure, purple and gold blazed upon its wings;
young, handsome, a dandy, it darts from flower to flower;
taking and leaving the loveliest.
Ah! said the cricket, how his fate and mine
are different! Dame Nature
made everything for him and nothing for me.
I have no talent, even less good looks;
no one pays heed to me, I am ignored here below:
I might as well not exist.
As he was speaking, into the meadow
arrives a troop of children;
off they run at once
after this butterfly that they all want.
Hats, handkerchiefs, caps, all serve to catch it.
The insect vainly tries to escape them,
it soon becomes their conquest.
One seizes it by the wing, another by the body;
a third comes along and takes it by the head.
It did not take so much effort
to tear the poor creature apart.
Oh! Oh! said the cricket, I am no longer vexed;
it costs too dear to shine in the world.
How I shall love my deep retreat!
To live happy, let us live hidden.

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-cricket-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/