The Crane & The Fox, a Fable
In long gone years a fox and crane
Were bound in friendship's golden chain;
Whene'er they met, the fox would bow
And madame Crane would curtsie low-
-My lovely Crane how do you do?
-I'm very well - pray how are you?
Thus time passed on, both very civil
Till Reynard in an hour evil
Projected what he thought a stroke
The world would call a pretty joke -
A billet wrote on gilded paper
And sealed it with a perfumed wafer
Announced the day, if she saw fit
To take a tete-a-tetetit-bit;
The day arriv'd -she preen'd each feather
And summon'd ev'ry grace together;
At breakfast scarce a morsel eat
Intent to riot at the treat -
She came - wide stood the unfolded door
And roses deck'd the sanded floor -
- There hyacinths in festoons hung
- Here lillies their rich fragrance flung -
The table drawn - the damask laid
And soup prepared of bullock's marrow
Pour'd in each plate profuse - but shallow;
The fox began to lap in haste
And made a plentiful repast,
Pressed his fair friend to do the same
And to encourage, lap'd again -
The Crane be sure with her long beak
Could not a single morsel pick;
She felt the bite--but little said
And very soon her exit made,
Just beg'd the fox would come next day
And sup with her in her plain way;
Reynard declared she did him honor
-He certainly would wait upon her.
Her domicile was well prepar'd
No cost or labor had been spared;
Roses and tulips on the floor
And daffodils the ceiling bore;
Nor was a band of music wanting
For whippoorwills and frogs were chanting.
The sun had set and given way
To sober evening's mantle gray;
The fox arriv'd with stomach keen
-Hoped he saw in health his Queen
And added in his courtliest air
She ne'er before had look'd so fair.
The Crane replied in mildest mood
That all he said was very good,
She meekly meant to do her duty
And ne'er dream'd of praise or beauty.
-She spoke - The table soon was spread
And ev'rything in order paid;
Two narrow jars now graced the board
With nicely minced ven'son stored;
- Now let's fall to, sir, if you will--
And in she pok'd her slender bill
And gulp'd of viands at her leisure
- To see you eat would give me pleasure
She cried - eat, neighbor, eat
I fear you do not like my treat;
It suits my palate to a hair
Pray, Chummy, eat and do not spare.
- The fox looked on with rueful phys
Feeling in all its force the quiz.
The Crane enjoy'd his discontent
And thus address'd him as he went,
The truest adage ever spoke
Was "He that Gives must Take a joke."
H.L. to his beloved daughter Jane, Feb. 19, 1827.
poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
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Related quotes
Theyll Need A Crane
Love sees loves happiness
But happiness cant see that love is sad
That love is sad
Sadness is hanging there
To show love somewhere something needs a change
They need a change
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break its gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain
Lads gal is all he has
Gals gladness hangs upon the love of lad
The love of lad
Some things gal says to lad arent meant as bad
But cause a little pain
They cause him pain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break its gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain
Dont call me at work again no no the boss still hates me
Im just tired and I dont love you anymore
And theres a restaurant we should check out where
The other nightmare people like to go
I mean nice people, baby wait,
I didnt mean to say nightmare
Lad looks at other gals
Gal thinks jim beam is handsomer than lad
He isnt bad
Call off the wedding band
Nobody wants to hear that one again
Play that again
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break its gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fox And The Crane
ONCE two persons uninvited
Came to join my dinner table;
For the nonce they lived united,
Fox and crane yclept in fable.
Civil greetings pass'd between us
Then I pluck'd some pigeons tender
For the fox of jackal-genius,
Adding grapes in full-grown splendour.
Long-neck'd flasks I put as dishes
For the crane, without delaying,
Fill'd with gold and silver fishes,
In the limpid water playing.
Had ye witness'd Reynard planted
At his flat plate, all demurely,
Ye with envy must have granted:
"Ne'er was such a gourmand, surely!"
While the bird with circumspection
On one foot, as usual, cradled,
From the flasks his fish-refection
With his bill and long neck ladled.
One the pigeons praised,--the other,
As they went, extoll'd the fishes,
Each one scoffing at his brother
For preferring vulgar dishes.
*
If thou wouldst preserve thy credit,
When thou askest folks to guzzle
At thy hoard, take care to spread it
Suited both for bill and muzzle.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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That Letter
i will be honest with you
i once wrote a letter
for you
many years ago
telling
that I LOVE YOU
but then something
wrong went with my mind
childish, immature
selfish,
fleshy, they call me
i took the letter
and read it again
under the lamp
dim
near my bed
i was hesitant to tell
you what i really feel
because i know
you would not believe me
anyway
(liar! liar! you always
call me that name)
and so let me be honest
with you
i decided not to send
it
despite its truth
i folded it
shaped it into the form
of a japanese crane
(origami, that is the
art of paper folding
and the japanese believe
that an origami crane
can cure the sick
the loved one
and i believe that
too)
i looked at it carefully
when it was finished
the shape of
a crane, the white one
with letters on it
and then i opened
my window
it was cold and dark
and i sent the
crane into the
open space
beyond me
i never dreamed
that it will reach
you
i did not believe
in love
i did not believe
in you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Upon the road of my life,
Upon the road of my life,
Passed me many fair creatures,
Clothed all in white, and radiant.
To one, finally, I made speech:
"Who art thou?"
But she, like the others,
Kept cowled her face,
And answered in haste, anxiously,
"I am good deed, forsooth;
You have often seen me."
"Not uncowled," I made reply.
And with rash and strong hand,
Though she resisted,
I drew away the veil
And gazed at the features of vanity.
She, shamefaced, went on;
And after I had mused a time,
I said of myself,
"Fool!"
poem by Stephen Crane
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The Crane And The Snake
The crane spreads its wings
while the snake coils to strike
both have great agility
and flamboyance when they fight
The crane hops, the the snake slithers
they sleep at night, near soft flowing rivers
For days the crane plays
bopping its head
swaying it many ways
before standing on one leg
All white
and inocently pure
the snake sees this dance
as an enticing lure
The snake slithers nearer
to have a better view
all this is happening
under a morning mist and dew
But the cranes alert
she knows whats there
peeking out from the bush
under this damp air
The snake gets closer
close enough to strike
the crane blocks with his wing
and postures for a fight
But the snake backs of
smiling at the crane
while the crane stands on that one leg
smiling back just the same.
Charlie Vergara
06.14.2011
31147
poem by White Tiger
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390
her name is marjorie and she locks herself in a room
for seven days
to make a poem, weaving her dreams, folding an emptly
paper
to make her crane, carefully, folding distances between the seasons
as she gathers wind
and fire
she takes a plant to survive and water it
care, she must care
lest she too dies
she opens a window one day to let her crane fly away
pure
& empty, the crane unfolds its wings as she watches
her years go by
like the way she wants some things to be unclear and undefined
because they are simply meant
to be that way, like the way that i try to confine her
in my frame of mind
she is and she will be, always, pure and then empty.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Once I saw mountains angry
Once I saw mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
Aye, he was no bigger than my finger.
I laughed, and spoke to one near me,
"Will he prevail?"
"Surely," replied this other;
"His grandfathers beat them many times."
Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers --
At least, for the little man
Who stood against the mountains.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Forth went the candid man
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the wind --
When he looked about him he was in a far strange country.
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the stars --
Yellow light tore sight from his eyes.
"My good fool," said a learned bystander,
"Your operations are mad."
"You are too candid," cried the candid man,
And when his stick left the head of the learned bystander
It was two sticks.
poem by Stephen Crane
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The Wayfarer
The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."
poem by Stephen Crane
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There's A Spider In My Room!
I’ve just spotted a spider in my bedroom.
Around the walls, he’s decided to zoom!
My eyes are now glued to the wall;
Not that I’m the least bit worried at all!
Oh no! Now he’s crawling on the ceiling,
And I’m getting a slightly anxious feeling.
He’s now hanging around over my bed:
Just above where I usually lay my head!
I’m sitting, watching him crawling around,
Praying that he doesn’t fall to the ground.
I dare not now switch off the light,
As, of him, I’ll suddenly lose all sight.
Why couldn’t he have stuck to the wall,
Where he would have been less likely to fall?
He’s running around as fast as he can.
Of any size spider, I’m not a great fan.
Unfortunately, at this time of year,
Outside, there are greater things to fear.
If I capture him now and throw him out,
I’ll get a crane fly in return, without a doubt.
A smallish spider, I can just about bear,
But, for crane flies, I really do not care!
I guess, a spider is the lesser evil of the two,
As they can’t fly at you, like crane flies do!
If it’s dark, maybe he, to, will go to sleep,
Or round the room, he may continue to creep.
So, maybe I’ll turn out the light and be brave,
And just hope the spider doesn’t misbehave!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Red-crested crane
Hello brother Red-crested. Ah! Fairy crane
Why you are so good luck freed no more pain?
In the passed few years you’re mistakenly killed.
You’re mistakenly poisoned together with the other birds.
How different we are without red crown?
We’re still searching food wadding around
There is good news here for you in brain.
You’re selected as the supreme represent birds.
All you have born with red crow on heads.
You will live under safety protected plane.
You have been quietly living hard a long time.
A better living will start from hereafter onward.
Your lonely hard living is now noticed.
Our country people begin to love you.
We are still living poorly in the lakes.
Please don’t forget us while you’re in palace.
Why you are so good lucky being selected?
Were you born with a silver spoon?
We like mandarin duck, phony and eagle.
Why they are same as poor as we are?
There is no other better being selectable.
Hello Red-Crested Crane, I love you.
From now on you’re really the fairy birds.
You’ll become more freely enjoy flying.
I don’t know who will dare to hurt you again!
Oh, Fairy bird my dear fairy crane!
Do you know how I love you in the pass?
I always treat you as the fairy birds.
It was no mistake that I've treated you nice.
poem by Albert Wong
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There was one I met upon the road
There was one I met upon the road
Who looked at me with kind eyes.
He said, "Show me of your wares."
And this I did,
Holding forth one.
He said, "It is a sin."
Then held I forth another;
He said, "It is a sin."
Then held I forth another;
He said, "It is a sin."
And so to the end;
Always he said, "It is a sin."
And, finally, I cried out,
"But I have none other."
Then did he look at me
With kinder eyes.
"Poor soul!" he said.
poem by Stephen Crane
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There was a land where lived no violets
There was a land where lived no violets.
A traveller at once demanded : "Why?"
The people told him:
"Once the violets of this place spoke thus:
'Until some woman freely gives her lover
To another woman
We will fight in bloody scuffle.'"
Sadly the people added:
"There are no violets here."
poem by Stephen Crane
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A learned man came to me once
A learned man came to me once.
He said, "I know the way, -- come."
And I was overjoyed at this.
Together we hastened.
Soon, too soon, were we
Where my eyes were useless,
And I knew not the ways of my feet.
I clung to the hand of my friend;
But at last he cried, "I am lost."
poem by Stephen Crane
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On the horizon the peaks assembled
On the horizon the peaks assembled;
And as I looked,
The march of the mountains began.
As they marched, they sang,
"Aye! We come! We come!"
poem by Stephen Crane
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Sugar Never Tasted So Good
Sugar never tasted so good
Sugar never tasted so good
Sugar never tasted good to me
Yeah
Until her eyes crossed over
Until her mind crossed over
Until her soul fell next to me
Now
If the wrinkle that is in your brain
Has given you quite a sting
Your fingers have become a crane
Pulling on these puppet strings
Yeah
What a feeling that's begun
What a feeling that's begun
What a feeling that's begun
What a feeling that's begun
I felt just like a baby
Until I held a baby
What a fool this boy can be
Yeah
And her thougths like a daisy
Until my mind gets lazy
I must've been crazy not to see
Alright
If the wrinkle that is in your brain
Has given you quite a sting
Your fingers have become a crane
Your fingers have become a crane
Your fingers have become a crane
Pulling on these puppet strings
Water never tasted so good
Water never tasted so good
Water never tasted good to me
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rosemary
For the sake of some things
That be now no more
I will strew rushes
On my chamber-floor,
I will plant bergamot
At my kitchen-door.
For the sake of dim things
That were once so plain
I will set a barrel
Out to catch the rain,
I will hang an iron pot
On an iron crane.
Many things be dead and gone
That were brave and gay;
For the sake of these things
I will learn to say,
"An it please you, gentle sirs,"
"Alack!" and "Well-a-day!"
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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I Stood Upon a Highway
I stood upon a highway,
And, behold, there came
Many strange peddlers.
To me each one made gestures,
Holding forth little images, saying,
"This is my pattern of God.
Now this is the God I prefer."
But I said, "Hence!
Leave me with mine own,
And take you yours away;
I can't buy of your patterns of God,
The little gods you may rightly prefer."
poem by Stephen Crane
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Nobody Spoke (for Karen)
Nobody spoke to Lucy,
nobody spoke at all,
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
nobody spoke
for five long years
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy withdrew
without a clue
why nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years,
nobody spoke
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke!
Lucy went mad
she went crazy!
She screamed
she cried, she sobbed,
but nobody spoke,
for five long years
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Many years later
she saw them,
those people she wanted
to be her friends.
but ain't no joke
nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years.
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy left a note
in daddy's drawer,
put on her very best dress.
Did her hair in a very fine way
and walked into the hall as a guest.
She walked up to the folk
that never spoke,
said hello in an ordinary way,
then she pulled out a gun
and opened fire.
Yes she shot all those folk
on that day.
Now they were silent
now they were still,
cos ain't no joke
that nobody spoke
and now
they never will.
poem by Ruth Walters
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I stood upon a high place
I stood upon a high place,
And saw, below, many devils
Running, leaping,
and carousing in sin.
One looked up, grinning,
And said, "Comrade! Brother!"
poem by Stephen Crane
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