The Bittern and the Hoopoe 鸬鹚与戴胜
"Where do you like best to feed your flocks?" said a man to an
old cow-herd. "Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor
too poor, or else it is no use." "Why not?" asked the man. "Do
you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there?" answered
the shepherd, "that is the bittern; he was once a shepherd, and so
was the hoopoe also,--I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured
his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance,
so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his
cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and
his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and
the shepherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could
not get his together again; they were too high-spirited, and ran away
from him. He called, "Come, cows, come," but it was of no use; they
took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get
his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. "Up, up,
up," screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand.
That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though
they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, "Come, cows, come,"
and the hoopoe, "Up, up, up."
old cow-herd. "Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor
too poor, or else it is no use." "Why not?" asked the man. "Do
you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there?" answered
the shepherd, "that is the bittern; he was once a shepherd, and so
was the hoopoe also,--I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured
his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance,
so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his
cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and
his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and
the shepherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could
not get his together again; they were too high-spirited, and ran away
from him. He called, "Come, cows, come," but it was of no use; they
took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get
his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. "Up, up,
up," screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand.
That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though
they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, "Come, cows, come,"
and the hoopoe, "Up, up, up."
"Where do you like best to feed your flocks?" said a man to an
old cow-herd. "Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor
too poor, or else it is no use." "Why not?" asked the man. "Do
you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there?" answered
the shepherd, "that is the bittern; he was once a shepherd, and so
was the hoopoe also,--I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured
his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance,
so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his
cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and
his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and
the shepherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could
not get his together again; they were too high-spirited, and ran away
from him. He called, "Come, cows, come," but it was of no use; they
took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get
his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. "Up, up,
up," screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand.
That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though
they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, "Come, cows, come,"
and the hoopoe, "Up, up, up."
old cow-herd. "Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor
too poor, or else it is no use." "Why not?" asked the man. "Do
you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there?" answered
the shepherd, "that is the bittern; he was once a shepherd, and so
was the hoopoe also,--I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured
his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance,
so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his
cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and
his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and
the shepherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could
not get his together again; they were too high-spirited, and ran away
from him. He called, "Come, cows, come," but it was of no use; they
took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get
his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. "Up, up,
up," screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand.
That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though
they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, "Come, cows, come,"
and the hoopoe, "Up, up, up."