Credit: Pexels
In the summer’s gaily singing,
Of the future isn’t thinking,
But the winter’s nearby.
Field was green, it’s now reddish,
Happy days already vanished,
And it happens no more,
That a leaf gives roof and store.
All has gone. In cold winters
Want and hunger wait afore.
Dragon-fly sings no more:
Who would like to sing yet more,
If the hungry belly hinders.
She is crawling in dismay
To the ant’s not far away:
“Dear crony, don’t leave me,
I’ll be strong, you may believe me!
But to manage winter storms
Give me food, a bit of warmth.”
“Oh, my dear, it’s very queer!
Did you work in summer here?”
So Ant his answer forms.
“But in summer I was busy:
In the pleasant grass we’d had
Many plays and songs ahead;
Very often I was dizzy.”
“Ah, you mean:” – “I made a hit:
All the summer I was singing:”
“You were singing. Well done dealing!
Now dance a little bit!”
Ivan Krylov
Translated by Sergey Kozlov
