Babrius (5)

Here are some more fables by Babrius, translated into English verse by James Davies: The Fables of Babrius, and you can click here for all the Babrius fables at this blog.

The Pine

Some woodmen, bent a forest pine to split,

Into each fissure sundry wedges fit,

To keep the void and render work more light.

Out groan'd the pine, "Why should I vent my spite

Against the axe, which never touch'd my root,

So much as these curst wedges, mine own fruit,

Which rend me through, inserted here and there!"

A fable this, intended to declare,

That not so dreadful is a stranger's blow,

As wrongs which men receive from those they know.

The Dog and the Cook

High feast a town was holding, at the end

Of sacrifice. His house-dog ask'd a friend,

Whom he had met, to come and share his meal.

He came. The cook upraised him by the heel

And toss'd him o'er the wall into the street.

Whom when each dog did with the question greet,

« What cheer?" he said; "What more could be

desired,

"When I scarce know by what way I retired?"

illustration from the Medici Aesop

The Hunter and the Fisherman

A huntsman going laden from the hill,

A fisher too, whose fish his basket fill,

As luck would have it, chanced one day to meet,

And lo! the hunter thought the fish a treat;

The fisherman preferr'd the hunter's game.

So they exchanged their spoil. They did the same,

Each for a time, to suit the other's taste,

With all they took, till some one said, "You'll waste

And mar by use the present charm of these,

And each again will seek what used to please."

The Goatherd and the Goats

'Twas snowy weather, and a goatherd led

Into a cave, he deem'd untenanted,

His goats, all-white with snow descending thick,

But thither, as he found, had come more quick

Some horned wild goats, a far larger stock,

And finer, too, than his accustom'd flock.

Green shoots to them he soon began to fling,

But to his own let tedious famine cling;

Till, when the sky grew clear, he found them dead.

Meanwhile the wild goats hurried off to tread

The trackless thickets of unpastured heights.

Hence ridicule upon the goatherd lights,

Returning goat-less. Seeking prizes new,

He lost the profit of his old one too.

illustration by Milo Winter

Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus

Pallas, 'tis said, with Neptune and with Jove,

Which should create a thing most perfect, strove.

Jove makes the choicest of created things,

A man. A dwelling to him Pallas brings;

Neptune a bull. They gave the umpire's post

To Momus; Heaven as yet he had not lost.

And he, as was his nature, hating all,

At blaming the bull's horns to work must fall,

Because they were not set beneath his eyes,

For then he'd see to strike. Man lost the prize,

Because not open was his breast, but closed,

Else each would see his neighbour's plans exposed.

He blamed the house, because no wheels were made

Of iron at its base; that it, convey'd

To other climes might pass with roving lord.

What purports then to us the fable's word?

Prefer not thou to carp, but strive to do.

Momus will nought in pleasant aspect view.