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4 octobre 2012 4 04 /10 /octobre /2012 18:02

 

 

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The Cicada and the Ant

Cicada, having sung her song
All summer long,
Found herself without a crumb
When winter winds did come.
Not a scrap was there to find
Of fly or earthworm, any kind.
Hungry, she ran off to cry
To neighbor Ant, and specify :
Asking for a loan of grist,
A seed or two so she’d subsist
Just until the coming spring.
She said, "I’ll pay you everything
Before fall, my word as animal,
Interest and principal."
Well, no hasty lender is the Ant;
It’s her finest virtue by a lot.
"And what did you do when it was hot ?"
She then asked this mendicant.
"To all comers, night and day,
I sang. I hope you don’t mind."
"You sang?" Why, my joy is unconfined.
Now dance the winter away."

 

 


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