Allan Kardec

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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 !

C. Dombre

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