Fables and Parables

Ignacy Krasicki.

Fables and Parables (Bajki i przypowieści, 1779), by Ignacy Krasicki, is a work in a long international tradition of fable-writing that reaches back to antiquity.

Emulating the fables of the ancient Greek Aesop, the Polish Biernat of Lublin, and the Frenchman Jean de La Fontaine, and anticipating Russia's Ivan Krylov, the Pole Krasicki populates his fables with anthropomorphized animals, plants, inanimate objects, and forces of nature, in masterful epigrammatic expressions of a skeptical, ironic view of the world.

That view is informed by Krasicki's observations of humanity and of national and international politics in his day, notably the predicament of the expiring Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Just seven years earlier (1772), the Commonwealth had experienced the first of three partitions that would, by 1795, totally expunge the Commonwealth from the political map of Europe.

The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth would fall victim to the aggression of three powerful neighbors, much as, in Krasicki's fable of "The Lamb and the Wolves" (reproduced here), the lamb falls victim to the two wolves. The First Partition had rendered Krasicki — an intimate of Poland's last king, Stanisław August Poniatowski — involuntarily a subject of that Partition's instigator, Prussia's King Frederick II ("the Great"). Krasicki would (unlike Frederick) survive to witness the final dismemberment of the Commonwealth.

Krasicki's parables (e.g., "The Blind Man and the Lame," "The King and the Scribes," and "The Drunkard"), while generally less striking than his fables, nonetheless point elegant moral lessons drawn from more quotidian human life.

The Fables and Parables are written as 13-syllable lines, in couplets that rhyme aa bb...

Polish critics generally prefer Krasicki's more concise Fables and Parables (1779) over his later New Fables (published posthumously in 1802).

Below are samples of Krasicki's Fables and Parables (1779) in English translation by Christopher Kasparek.

Foreword to the Fables

There was once a young man whose temperance never flagged;
There was an old man, too, who never scolded or nagged;
There was a rich man who shared his wealth with the needy;
There flourished an author, for renown never greedy;
There was a customs man who did not steal; a cobbler who shunned alcohol;
A soldier who did not boast; a rogue who did not brawl;
There was a politician who never thought of self;
There was a poet who never put lies on his shelf.
"No, you'll never convince me that that's the right label!"
"Nevertheless, I will call all of this a fable."

The Blind Man and the Lame

A blind man was carrying a lame man on his back,
And everything was going well, everything's on track,
When the blind man decides to take it into his head
That he needn't listen to all that the lame man said.
"This stick I have will guide the two of us safe," said he,
And though warned by the lame man, he plowed into a tree.
On they proceeded; the lame man now warned of a brook;
The two survived, but their possessions a soaking took.
At last the blind man ignored the warning of a drop,
And that was to turn out their final and fatal stop.
Which of the two travelers, you may ask, was to blame?
Why, 'twas both the heedless blind man and the trusting lame.

The Eagle and the Hawk

Eagle, not wishing to incommode himself with chase,
Decided to send hawk after sparrows in his place.
Hawk brought him the sparrows, eagle ate them with pleasure;
At last, not quite sated with the dainties to measure,
Feeling his appetite growing keener and keener —
Eagle ate fowl for breakfast, the fowler for dinner.

The Rat and the Cat

Sitting on the altar, "They're burning incense to me,"
Boasted the rat to all his assembled family.
As the rat grew giddy from excess of incense smoke,
A cat lunged in, seized him, and dispatched him at a stroke.

Ocean and River Tagus

Ocean, all too arrogant in his immensity,
Began scorning the rivers that flowed into his sea.
"Send no more water," he told them, "I've enough of it."
Said Tagus: "Only take thought — it is for your profit,
For your grandeur that we do cleave the globe's fertile land:
Were it not for us rivers, your sea were not so grand."

The Old Dog and the Old Servant

So long as he brought in the duck and chased down the hare,
Old Sorrel could always reckon on getting his share.
Then the dog grew long in the tooth and could hunt no more,
So his lordship put the erstwhile pet out to pasture.
The poor dog, gnawing at bones, an object of pity,
Was fed by the once-seneschal, since become gillie.

Birds in a Cage

"Why do you weep?" inquired the young siskin of the old,
"You're more comfortable in this cage than out in the cold."
"You were born caged," said the elder, "this was your morrow;
"I was free, now I'm caged — hence the cause of my sorrow."

The Lion and the Beasts

Lion, in order to give evidence of his grace,
Invited his intimates to join him in the chase.
They hunted together, and as token of favor
Lion ate meat and let his comrades the bones savor.
His beneficence having thus become established,
Inasmuch as to show them more favor yet he wished,
That they might more fully appreciate their leader,
Lion gave them leave to devour one of their number.
After the first, a second, a third, a fourth vanished.
Seeing the beasts grown fat, lion though scarcely famished,
So's to restrain their predations and blot out his shame,
Ate them one and all in justice and decorum's name.

The Little Fish and the Pike

Espying a worm in the water, the little fish
Did greatly regret the worm could not become his dish.
Up came a pike and made his preparations to dine;
He swallowed both worm and hook, which he failed to divine.
As the angler pulled ashore his magnificent prize,
Quoth the little fish: "Sometimes good to be undersize."

Two Dogs

"Why do I freeze out of doors while you sleep on a rug?"
Inquired the bobtail mongrel of the fat, sleek pug.
"I have run of the house, and you the run of a chain,"
The pug replied, "because you serve, while I entertain."

The Elephant and the Bee

The weak, if they're wise, will not take umbrage at the strong!
A bee, confident in the grievousness of her sting,
Approached an elephant as he grazed in the meadow,
Paying no attention to his wee apian fellow.
Bee resolved to chastise him and proceeded to sting.
What happened? The bee died, the elephant felt nothing.

The Stream and the River

The stream swiftly running through a beautiful valley
Did reproach the great river for flowing so slowly.
Said the river: "Ere we two the morning dawn shall see,
You quickly, and I slowly, will fall into the sea."

The Master and the Dog

The dog barked all the night, keeping the burglar away;
It got a beating for waking the master, next day.
That night it slept soundly, and did the burglar no harm;
He burgled; the dog got caned for not raising alarm.

The Humble Lion

'Tis bad at master's court to lie, bad the truth to tell.
Lion, intent on showing all that he was humble,
Called for open reproaches. Said the fox: "Your great vice
Is that you're too kind, too gracious, excessively nice."
The sheep, seeing lion pleased by fox's rebuke, said:
"You are a cruel, voracious tyrant." — and she was dead.

The Carter and the Butterfly

The cart was bogged down and could move no more through the mire;
The carter had stopped, and so had the horses entire.
A butterfly sitting on top of the conveyance,
Concluding he was a burden to the cart's advance,
Bethought himself: "Mercy is a good habit abroad."
He flew off the cart and told the peasant: "Go with God!"

The Lamb and the Wolves

Aggression ever finds cause if sufficiently pressed.
Two wolves on the prowl had trapped a lamb in the forest
And were about to pounce. Quoth the lamb: "What right have you?"
"You're toothsome, weak, in the wood." — The wolves dined sans ado.

The Violet and the Grass

In the shade of spreading trees on a beautiful green
'Mid grass took root a violet, none lovelier seen.
The grass grew tall and broad; the violet, terrified,
Hid as it might, but its scent there was no way to hide.
As the envious sward rejoiced at its neighbor's pass,
The mowers cut down violets as well as the grass.

Bread and Sword

As the bread lay next to the sword, the weapon demurred:
"You would certainly show me more respect if you heard
How by night and by day I conscientiously strive
So that you may safely go on keeping men alive."
"I know," said the bread, "the shape of your duty's course:
You defend me less often than you take me by force."

The King and the Scribes

A certain king, full of ideas and enterprise,
Decreed a register of the happy and the wise.
The scribe who recorded the happy, found almost none;
The one who listed the wise, did out of paper run.

Man and Wolf

Man was traveling in wolfskin when wolf stopped his way.
"Know from my garb," said the man, "what I am, what I may."
The wolf first laughed out loud, then grimly said to the man:
"I know that you are weak, if you need another's skin."

Compassion

The sheep was praising the wolf for all his compassion;
Hearing it, fox asked her: "How is that? In what fashion?"
"Very much so!" says the sheep, "I owe him what I am.
He's mild! He could've eaten me, but just ate my lamb."

Refractory Oxen

Pleasant the beginnings, but lamentable the end.
In spring, the oxen to their plowing would not attend;
They would not carry the grain to the barn in the fall;
Came winter, bread ran out, the farmer ate them withal.

The Wolf and the Sheep

A certain wolf, ever cautious, ravenous withal,
Saw a carcass, advanced and landed in a pitfall.
He sat in the pit, sighing, then all at once heard sheep.
They looked down at the wolf barely breathing in the deep.
At length he spoke, and said with most gentle countenance:
"I didn't fall in, I am down here to do penance —
I'm doing penance for having assaulted, menaced,
For having devoured you..." When the sheep heard this, they asked:
"Come out of the pit!..." "I will not!..." "We will lift you out..."
The wolf demurred but, at the last, yielded to their shout.
The sheep set to work, and so did they set about it
That ere long they had lifted the wolf out of the pit.
The wolf, rescued from the trap, desired his faith to keep,
And so, slashed, strangled and devoured all the foolish sheep.

The Drunkard

Having spent at the bottle many a night and day,
The ailing drunkard threw his mugs and glasses away;
He declared wine a tyrant, reviled beer, cursed out mead.
Then, his health restored... he'd no longer abstinence heed.

Translated from the Polish by Christopher Kasparek.

Note on the translations:

References

• Ignacy Krasicki, Bajki: wybór (Fables: a Selection), selected and with introduction by Zdzisław Libera, illustrated with drawings by Gustave Doré, Warsaw, Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1974. The volume includes selections from Krasicki's New Fables, published posthumously in 1802.
• Czesław Miłosz, The History of Polish Literature, 2nd ed., Berekely, University of California Press, 1983.
• Julian Krzyżanowski, Historia literatury polskiej: Alegoryzm — preromantyzm (A History of Polish Literature: Allegorism — Preromanticism), Warsaw, Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1974.
• Jan Zygmunt Jakubowski, ed., Literatura polska od średniowiecza do pozytywizmu (Polish Literature from the Middle Ages to Positivism), Warsaw, Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1979.

See also

• Fable
• Parable
• Poetry
• Political fiction
• Politics in fiction

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