The Horse and the Ass
Table of Contents
An Ass and rude horse were travelling together.
The Horse carried little beyond his own tether.
While the poor laden beast beside him did struggle;
So overburdend that he finally faltered.
He pleaded with the Horse to show him some pity,
Else he would die before reaching the city.
“My request after all is not impolite;
Half of this load you would still find light.”
The Horse he refused thinking himself clever,
But soon saw his comrade fall down forever.
He realized quickly he had been mistaken,
For soon he was carrying the whole of the burden
Along with the skin of his little companion.
Share your neighbour’s troubles. If he
fails it’s on your neck, the load will fall
Lion and mosquito
– Get away, pathetic face, know, scum,
I am the king! –
roared the lion to the mosquito with anger.
At that moment the war was declared by the mosquito.
“Don’t think,” he said, “your royal dream.”
scares me and worries me.
The ox is bigger than you,
but whatever I want to do with it.
He said these words,
play instantly for an attack,
he was a pipe himself, he was a hero himself.
He pulls away, waiting,
came down, stinged on the neck,
until the lion goes crazy.
The lion is in foam all over
and with a blazing eye he gazed;
roars; shrub and beast shuddering around;
and this anxiety in the universe
is the work of a mosquito.
The naughty fly raids don’t stop,
his mouth, his long spine,
it sinks right into his nose.
The rage reaches its peak then.
The invisible enemy rejoices and laughs,
when he sees the animal raging
and with her nails and teeth in blood she drowns.
He cries, bites himself the lion miserable,
on its flanks with its tail closed,
beat the air without stopping; and this anger is endless
crush him, mar him; he grunted.
Leaves the battle of our mosquito with glory:
storm as it blows, victory blows,
I proclaimed it inward, and then, without knowing,
the ambush of a spider falls
and there it ends.
What lesson could I get from here?
I see even two: among all the enemies
you are the most guarded of the little ones;
escaped more than one ominous interlude,
a person dies for nothing.
The donkey that brings the shrines
A donkey loaded with shrines,
imagine being proud
that he was largly admired
and to him zealously the world bowed.
But someone noticed his mistake. –
Hey, be smart, Mr. Donkey, – told him, –
and leave this boasting.
Your idol, alas,
honor everyone here
and they glorify him, then.
To the judge ignorant
clothes are weaving.
The Young Widow
With crying, the dead husband is sent,
but the inconsolable is still comforting.
Over time, her sorrow imperceptibly flies away.
Her life is already different.
Especially when it’s gone
unnoticed year,
the widow you cannot know her at all.
What was the other, what was that!
She was grieving, and this woman.
False or not – she sighed…
the same posture, the same sadness …
And they found it inconsolable,
and it did not seem to be so.
We will see from this fable,
from the truth – even better.
It is time for a young man to die.
And to send for his world his wife
she sobbed over him: “We’ll be two soon,
my soul to your soul will fly away. ”
The man went off on his own.
Her father waited for everything to pass,
the sorrow to subside.
And he said, “You’ve had enough of crying,
you will not resurrect him and weep with destruction;
he doesn’t need to ruin your beauty.
For the living, not the dead think.
I’m not telling you I should merry
for the grief to end with a new wedding
and the pain to get over it.
But after a while, don’t be surprised, maybe
a young, good-looking man love and marriage to offer you. ”
“No, no,” the widow said suddenly, ”
I need a monastery, not a man. ”
Her father left her alone to talk.
It’s been a month … a second is coming …
She started to change something every day
in clothes … in underwear … in hair.
in the mood …
And her mourning for decoration
as if it had been adapted.
Her home became lively
from naughty games, from laughter, from dancing.
The quiet sadness passed.
And in the morning … in the evening … still …
she is enjoying her youth again.
And there is a cure against the sorrow of a dear deceased.
And since the father has not repeated since then –
“Where is that young man –
she asked, “who are you talking to me about?”
The sun and the frogs
The people once feasted countlessly
at a tyrant’s wedding.
Aesop is the only one in the jubilant brawl
this fun joke we are a joke.
“Once,” he said, “(centuries since).”
Sunny planned to get married.
When they heard the frogs, they were embarrassed for a while
and your fate is sad
they cried aloud.
“What are we going to do when they’re born, kids?” –
they said. – The sun is barely lasting.
To all the marshes, say it, the end is coming,
when the sun swarms.
Goodbye, trust and Glen! Why does the tribe go
in the Ice Styx without time.
They call frogs miserable livestock,
but they do not think foolishly yet.
