The Turtledove and the Warbler

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

A warbler young and fair
amused herself with singing as long as day would last;
her neighbor the turtledove
would not, knew not how to do anything but love.
I pity your error, she said to the warbler;
you waste your fairest moments:
there is but one pleasure, it is to have lovers.
Tell me, if you please, what little song
can be worth a sweet kiss.
I would be very careful to dare
to compare them, answered the songstress:
but I am not unhappy,
I have placed my happiness in my songs.
At these words, the turtledove
mocking her withdrew from her.
Without seeing each other they were ten years.
After this long span, one fine spring day,
in the same forest they met again.
Age had somewhat deranged their charms;
for a long time they looked at each other
before they could recall each other’s features.
At last the warbler, courteous,
comes forward first: ah! Good day, my friend,
how are you? How go the lovers?
-ah! Do not speak to me of them, my dear:
I have lost all, pleasures, friends, fair years;
everything has passed like a light shadow.
I thought that happiness was to love, to please…
O cruel memory! O vain regrets!
I still love, I am no longer loved.
I have lost less than you, answered the songstress:
however I am old and I have no voice left;
but I love music, and am still happy
when the nightingale makes these woods resound.
Beauty, that celestial gift,
cannot without talents escape weariness:
beauty passes, a talent remains,
one enjoys it even in others.

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-turtledove-and-the-warbler-jean-pierre-claris-de-florian/