The Heron

One day, on his long feet, I did not know where,
The long-billed heron with a long neck.
He was next to the river.
The wave was transparent as well as in the best days;
My groom carp was a thousand turns
With the pike his friend.
The Heron would easily have made his profit:
All approaching the edge, the bird had only to take;
But he thought it best to wait
That he had a little more appetite.
He lived on a diet and ate at his hours.
After a few moments, the appetite came: the bird
Approaching the edge lives on the water
Trenches coming out of the back of these houses.
The dish did not please him; he expected better
And showed a disdainful taste
Like the rat of good Horace.
Me Trenches? he said to me Heron that I do
Such a poor thing? And who do you take me for?
The rebuffed he found the stud.
Stud! this is the dinner of a Heron!
I would open for so little beak! Gods do not please!
He opened it for a lot less: everything went so
That he does not live any more fish.
Hunger took him, he was happy and comfortable
To meet a snail.
Let's not be so difficult:
The most accommodating are the most skilled:
We risk losing by wanting to win too much,
Take care not to despise anything;
Especially when you have about your account.
Many people are caught there; it's not Herons
That I speak; listen, humans, another tale;
You will see that at home I drew these lessons.

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