An ermine, a beaver, a young wild boar,
youngest of their families, and thus without fortune,
in the hope of acquiring one,
left their forest, their pond, their thicket.
After a long journey, after many an adventure,
they arrive in a land
where offer themselves to their delighted eyes
all the treasures of nature,
meadows, waters, woods, orchards full of fruit.
Our pilgrims, seeing this beloved land,
feel the same transports
as Aeneas and his Trojans upon discovering the shores
of the kingdom of Lavinia.
But this rich land was on all sides
surrounded by a muddy marsh
where snakes and lizards
played in the frightful crowd.
It had to be crossed; and our three travelers
stop at the edge, astonished and pensive.
The ermine first extends a paw;
she withdraws it at once,
back she leaps,
saying: my friends, let us flee in great haste;
this place, however beautiful, cannot suit us,
to get there we would have to get dirty;
and I am so delicate
that a stain kills me.
My sister, says the beaver, a little patience;
one can, without getting dirty, sometimes succeed:
it takes time and intelligence;
we have all that: as for me, who am a mason,
in fifteen days I will build you a fine bridge
on which we can, without fearing the bites
of those nasty snakes, without ruining our furs,
reach the middle of this charming valley.
Fifteen days! That term is very long,
replies the wild boar: I will be there quicker;
you will see how. Upon pronouncing these words,
he rushes
into the thick of the mire, plunges in up to his back,
through the snakes, the lizards, the toads,
marches, pushes toward his goal, arrives covered in mud;
and there, while he shakes himself off,
casting on his friends a look of disdain:
learn, he tells them, how one makes one’s way.
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-ermine-the-beaver-and-the-wild-boar-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/
