A vain stag saw himself reflected
While standing1 in a crystal pool.
His antlers like a thicket2 spread
But when he looked below he rued
The sight of his narrow limbs
Which thinned to nothing under him.
"My legs do not match my head"
He said in sorrow regarding his form.
"This copse upon my his is merited,
While my feet do not conform."
Now while the stag was speaking thus
A bloodhound came and chased him off.
He tried to save himself as furious,
into the forests he took off.
But his antlers were an impediment
Catching the branches as he ran,
Impeding3 the service rendered by
His feet on which his life did hang.
And as he ran he cursed the crown
Which now began to drag him down.
We value what is beautiful and scorn the useful.
Yet beauty often destroys us.
The stag despised his feet which gave him life,
While valuing the crown which caused him strife4.
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Le Cerf se voyant dans l'eau
Dans le cristal d'une fontaine
Un Cerf se mirant autrefois
Louait la beauté de son bois,
Et ne pouvait qu'avecque peine
Souffrir ses jambes de fuseaux,
Dont il voyait l'objet se perdre dans les eaux.
Quelle proportion de mes pieds à ma tête !
Disait-il en voyant leur ombre avec douleur :
Des taillis les plus hauts mon front atteint le faîte ;
Mes pieds ne me font point d'honneur.
Tout5 en parlant de la sorte,
Un Limier le fait partir ;
Il tâche à se garantir ;
Dans les forêts il s'emporte.
Son bois, dommageable ornement,
L'arrêtant à chaque moment,
Nuit à l'office que lui rendent
Ses pieds, de qui ses jours dépendent.
Il se dédit alors, et maudit les présents
Que le Ciel lui fait tous les ans.
Nous faisons cas du beau, nous méprisons l'utile ;
Et le beau souvent nous détruit.
Ce Cerf blâme ses pieds qui le rendent agile6 ;
Il estime un bois qui lui nuit.