The pumpkin and the sensitive(Fable)
What is your kind of diet, oh poor sensitive?
Asked a pumpkin to a delicate flower,
To remain light and slim, what is imperative?
I am afraid your power
Weakens with your sensitivity;
You shall die before the season;
The sun hides in the horizon,
Sleeping filaments: So little!
A dismal fear travels the style
Before the slightest breeze.
A simple touch cannot appease
The crisis; your life is a torment.
Why the pain of such greatness?
Follow my example of sweet quietness.
Whatever happens around me do not shake my ground;
I am only committed to hold still
With no intention to feel
The mysteries of heavens.
The clear light of dawn,
Heat and cold, moist and dark
It is all the same spark!
Sure, my round and sturdy shape
Inspires the observer to state:
The pumpkin vegetates.
I am not bothered by the saying
And in a well-fed bed I remain
Anxious to keep my ground
And with my size I abound.
Our tastes are different, says the little flower.
The only thing that matters
To you is the material life.
But I do better and strive
And even abbreviating my time
I choose for preference
The pleasures of life and intelligence
All lived in abundance.
Dombre (de Marmande)
