A hungry fly once saw a hive of bees;
Transported by delicious fantasies,
He buzzed: “What noble friend will be my guide?
I’d give a barley grain to get inside –
How marvellous if I could just contrive
To find myself in this delightful hive.”
A passer-by took pity on his pain,
Lifted him in and took the barley grain.
But when he reached the honey-store at last,
He found his wings and hairy joints stuck fast –
His sticky, struggling legs began to tire,
Encumbered by the honey’s clammy mire.
He cried: “When free I didn’t know my luck;
This honey’s worse than poison. Help! I’m stuck!
To get into this mess I gave a grain;
I’d offer double to get out again!”
Within this valley no man can be free –
Your life has passed in thoughtless liberty;
But only adults can traverse this waste:
Let childhood go; a new life must be faced!
The valley waits; prepare now to depart;
Relinquish your beloved, selfish heart –
That pagan idol, that deceptive guide
Which turns detachment harmlessly aside.
