There was an old woman who had two chambermaids.
They spun so well that the spinning sisters
Only made a mess compared to these.
The Old Woman had no more pressing care
Than to give the Servants their task.
As soon as Tethys chased golden-maned Phoebus away,
Spinning wheels came into play, spindles were pulled out;
Here, there, you shall have some;
No rest, no letup.
As soon as Aurora, I say, climbed back into her chariot,
A wretched Rooster crowed right on cue.
At once our Old Woman, even more wretched,
Dressed herself in a filthy and detestable petticoat,
Lit a lamp, and ran straight to the bed
Where with all their might, with all their appetite,
The two poor Servants slept.
One half-opened an eye, the other stretched an arm;
And both, very displeased,
Said between their teeth: Cursed Rooster, you shall die.
As they had said, the beast was seized.
The alarm clock had its throat cut.
This murder did not improve their lot at all.
On the contrary, our pair had barely gone to bed
When the Old Woman, fearing to let the hour pass,
Ran like an imp through her whole dwelling.
Thus it is that most often,
When one thinks to escape a bad affair,
One sinks even further in:
Witness this Pair and their wages.
The Old Woman, instead of the Rooster, made them fall there
From Charybdis into Scylla.
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-old-woman-and-the-two-servants-jean-de-la-fontaine/
