The cicada, having sung
All summer long,
Found herself entirely destitute 
When the north wind came:
Not a single tiny morsel
Of fly or of worm.
She went to cry famine
At the ant's house next door,
Imploring her to lend her
Some speck to tide her over
Until the next spring.
"I'll pay you," she said,
"Before August, animal's honor,
Interest and principal."
The ant was not one to lend,
That was the least of her faults.
"What did you do in the warm weather?"
Said she to that borrower.
"Night and day to all and sundry
I sang, if you don't mind."
"You sang? I'm so delighted.
Well then! Now you can dance."

Master Raven, perched in a tree,
Held a cheese in his beak.
Master Fox, drawn by the aroma,
Spoke to him more or less these words:
"Hey, good day, Mister Raven,
How attractive you are! How handsome you seem to me!
To speak truly, if your song
Is a match for your plumage, 
You are the phoenix of the hosts of this wood."
At these words the raven was beside himself with joy;
And, to show off his beautiful voice,
He opened his beak wide, dropping his prey.
The fox seized it, and said, "My good sir,
Learn that every flatterer
Lives at the expense of those who listen to him:
This lesson is doubtless well worth a cheese."
The raven, ashamed and embarrassed,
Swore, but a little late, that he wouldn't be taken in again.

The argument of the strongest is always the best:
        We will demonstrate this right away.

        A lamb was quenching its thirst
        In the current of a pure stream.
A wolf arrived with an empty stomach, seeking adventure,
    And drawn to that area by hunger.
"What makes you so bold as to foul my drink?"
        Said that animal, full of rage:
"You will be punished for your effrontery."
"Sire," replied the lamb, "let Your Majesty 
        Not be moved to anger,
        But rather let him consider 
        That I came to quench my thirst 
                In the current
        More than twenty paces downstream;
And that as a result there is no way
         That I could foul his drink.
"You are fouling it!" replied that cruel beast,
"And I know that you spoke ill of me last year."
"How could I have done that, if I wasn't yet born?"
    Replied the lamb: "I'm still suckling my mother."
        "If it wasn't you, then it was your brother."
    "I have none." "Then it was someone of yours;
        For you hardly leave me alone,
        You, your shepherds and your dogs.
    I've been told: I must have my revenge."
        Thereupon, deep into the forest
        The wolf took the lamb, and then ate it,
        Without any further disputation.

A frog once saw an ox
Who seemed to her of a fine size.
She, who was in all not as big as an egg,
Envious, stretched, and puffed up, and exerted herself,
So as to equal the animal in size,
Saying, "Look closely, my sister;
Is it enough? Tell me, am I not there yet?"
"No " — "Now, then? — "Not at all." — "And now?"
"You're not even close." The little ninny
Became so puffed up that she burst.
The world is full of folk who are no wiser:
Every burgher wants to build like a great lord,
Every princeling has ambassadors,
Every marquis wants to have pages.

One should, as much as one can, oblige everyone:
One often has need of someone lesser than oneself.
Two fables bear witness to this truth,
So much does the matter abound in proofs.
Between the paws of a lion
A rat emerged from the ground quite in a daze.
The King of Beasts, on this occasion,
Showed his true character, and spared his life.
This kindness was not wasted.
Would anyone ever have thought 
That a lion had need of a rat?
Nevertheless it happened that when leaving the forest
This lion was caught by snares,
From which his roaring could not free him.
Sir Rat came running, and made such use of his teeth
That one gnawed stitch disposed of the whole affair.
Patience and length of time
Achieve more than force or rage.

The second example is drawn from smaller animals.
Along a clear stream a dove was drinking,
When an ant leaning over the water fell in.
And in that ocean the ant could be seen
Striving, but in vain, to regain the shore.
The dove at once exercised charity:
She threw a blade of grass into the water,
And it became a promontory where the ant landed.
She was saved; and thereupon 
A certain peasant passed by, walking barefoot.
It happened that this peasant had a crossbow.
As soon as he saw the bird of Venus
He imagined her in his pot, and was already celebrating.
While my villager was preparing to kill her,
The ant nipped him on the heel.
The lout turned his head;
The dove heard him, went off, and made her escape.
The peasant's supper took wing with her:
Not even an obol's worth of pigeon.