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A certain maiden, a little too proud,
Claimed she would find a husband
Young, well-built and handsome, of pleasant manner.
Not cold and not jealous; note these two points.
This maiden also wanted
Him to have wealth, good birth,
Wit, in short everything. But who can have everything?
Fate showed itself careful to provide for her:
Suitors of importance came.
The beauty found them half too paltry.
What, me? What, those people? One’s driveling, I think.
To propose them to me! Alas, they are pitiful.
Just look at the fine specimen!
One had in his mind no delicacy at all;
The other had a nose made in that fashion;
It was this, it was that,
It was everything; for the precious ladies
Are disdainful above all.
After the good matches, mediocre folk
Came to put themselves in the running.
She only mocked. Ah, truly I am kind
To open the door to them: They think I am
Sorely troubled about my person.
Thank God, I spend the nights
Without sorrow, though in solitude.The beauty gave herself credit for all these feelings.
Age made her decline: farewell all lovers.
A year passes and two with anxiety.
Sorrow comes next: she feels each day
Depart some Laughs, some games, then love;
Then her features shock and displease;
Then a hundred kinds of rouge. Her efforts could not manage
That she escape time, that notorious thief:
The ruins of a house
Can be repaired; why is this advantage not
For the ruins of a face!
Her preciousness then changed its language.
Her mirror said to her: Take a husband quickly.
I know not what desire told her so too;
Desire can lodge in a precious lady.
This one made a choice that one would never have believed,
Finding herself at last quite glad and quite happy
To meet a lout.
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-maiden-jean-de-la-fontaine/