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One day, on his long legs, going I know not where,
The Heron with a long beak set on a long neck.
He was walking alongside a river.
The water was as clear as on the finest days;
My gossip the carp was making a thousand turns there
With the pike, her crony.
The Heron could easily have profited from it:
All were approaching the bank, the bird had only to take;
But he thought it better to wait
Until he had a little more appetite.
He lived on a regimen, and ate at his hours.
After a few moments appetite came: the bird
Approaching the bank saw on the water
Some tenches emerging from the depths of those dwellings.
The dish did not please him; he expected better
And showed a disdainful taste
Like the rat of good Horace. I eat tenches? said he, I a Heron
Make such a poor meal? And who do they take me for?
The tench spurned, he found a gudgeon.
A gudgeon! That is indeed the dinner of a Heron!
I would open my beak for so little! Heaven forbid!
He opened it for much less: everything went in such a way
That he saw no fish at all anymore.
Hunger seized him, he was quite happy and quite glad
To come upon a snail.
Let us not be so difficult:
The most accommodating are the most skillful:
One risks losing by wanting to gain too much.
Beware of disdaining anything;
Especially when you have about all you need.
Many people are caught by this; it is not to Herons
That I speak; listen, humans, to another tale;
You will see that from you I drew these lessons.
(see The Girl)
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-heron-jean-de-la-fontaine/