To Mrs. and Ms. C… from Bordeaux
Love and Charity
In the rose bushes bordering the hedge
A warbler had hatched her brood;
All chicks were happily fed;
Misfortune, alas, loomed!
Amidst fires the torments raged
Pouring down the rain
Turning into a vast lake the terrain
The pen already inundated.
Far from the bushes the nest fluctuates
The bird follows its own destiny;
The heart still open to hopes;
The generous star is far away, shiny.
Yet, the water flows.
With the water from the grasslands
The creek receives the floating nest
Which, despite the pitfalls of the water banks
It safely arrives to the riverbed.
A little bank of sand arises,
Sticking out of the river, in the middle;
Helped by a gentle wind, waving a little,
To safe shores our nest browses.
For a moment the warbler feels elated,
With her beak she touches the valuable straw;
Then she feels deeply distraught:
In such a place, what would be her fate?
The chicks the hunger obey,
Should she leave them behind, and fly away?
There on the sand, exposed and abandoned!
They had just been saved
By a good breeze, a friendly wave.
However, if a new surge amazes
Or a dismal gust abrades?
At that moment a large pigeon lands;
“Excuse me”, she says, “my audacious warbler,
My appeal is in your kind hands,
This whole family must be safer.”
Oh! Good pigeon, take back to the calm plains
These little victims of the storm.
Be so kind and my children store
In you vast and generous wings.
It is not so far and your vigorous claws
Have never carried such a light weight.
The pigeon heard and responded straight:
“I deplore your terrible pain,
But I am sorry to say that other concerns claim
My attention, forcing me to fly
But have no worries and try
To follow my good advice:
Trust your luck…
The benefactor sprit
Who saved your life will not be cross
With you, leaving you behind with your loss.”
And happy with herself the pigeon flew away.
Swimming around a little carp heard
Everything, and everything she learned.
“Be reassured, she said, oh desperate mother!
Your pain, I understand well, is bitter
But not everything is lost in your despair,
I have no strength to share
But I hope I can help you ashore.”
And taking a little straw by her mouth,
Plentiful in the nest that had gone south,
She pulled and slid on her way.
The warbler stood, helping with her own sway,
Her wings in the air, the winds blowing,
The uneasy load, the fish pulling,
The nest was balanced, the fear was out,
Avoiding the currents on their route.
The margins near, now safe grounds!
The warbler was charmed to have found
Good bushes, and woods a ton.
The little fish then said: “From now on
Don’t trust the big ones; the appeal of desperation
Only slightly touches the hearts on vacation;
Their skills are advice and condolences.
However, the fraternal assistance
Is only found with the little ones