The Frogs, wearying
Of the Democratic state,
By their clamors did so much
That Jupiter subjected them to Monarchic power.
A wholly peaceful King fell to them from Heaven:
This King, however, made such a noise in falling
That the marsh-dwelling folk,
A very foolish and very fearful race,
Went and hid beneath the waters,
In the rushes, in the reeds,
In the holes of the marsh,
Not daring for a long time to look upon the face
Of him whom they believed to be a new giant;
Yet it was a Beanpole,
Whose gravity frightened the first one
Who, seeing him venture forth,
Dared to leave her lair.
She approached, but trembling.
Another followed her, another did the same,
An ant-hill of them came;
And their troop at last became so familiar
As to leap upon the King’s shoulder.
The good Sire suffers it, and keeps still always.
Jupiter soon has his brain worn out.
Give us, said this people, a King who stirs.
The Monarch of the Gods sends them a Crane,
Who gobbles them, who kills them,
Who gulps them down at his pleasure,
And Frogs complain;
And Jupiter says to them: What! does your desire
Believe it can bind us by its laws?
You should first
Have kept your Government;
But, having not done so, it should have sufficed you
That your first king was debonair and gentle:
Be content with this one,
Lest you meet a worse.
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-frogs-who-asked-for-a-king-jean-de-la-fontaine/
