The Phoenix

Fable by Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian Period 18th century

The phoenix, coming from Arabia,
appeared in our woods one fine day:
great noise among the birds; their gathered troop
flies to pay him court.
Each one observes him, examines him;
his plumage, his voice, his melodious song,
everything is beauty, divine grace,
everything charms the ear and the eyes.
For the first time envy was seen to yield
to the need to praise and love its conqueror.
The nightingale said: never so much sweetness
enchanted my enraptured soul.
Never, said the peacock, have lovelier colors
had this brilliance that I admire;
it dazzles my eyes and always draws them.
The others repeated these flattering praises,
boasting the unique privilege
of this king of birds, of this child of heaven,
who, old, on a pyre of aromatic cedar,
consumes himself, and is reborn immortal.
During all these speeches the turtle-dove alone,
without saying anything, gave a sigh.
Her spouse, nudging her with his wing,
asks her where can come from
her reverie and her sadness:
for this happy bird do you desire his fate?
—Me! My friend, I pity him greatly;
he is the only one of his species.

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-phoenix-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/