In the summer’s gaily singing,
Of the future isn’t thinking,
But the winter’s nearby.
Field was green, it’s now reddish,
Happy days already vanished,
And it happens no more,
That a leaf gives roof and store.
All has gone. In cold winters
Want and hunger wait afore.
Dragon-fly sings no more:
Who would like to sing yet more,
If the hungry belly hinders.
She is crawling in dismay
To the ant’s not far away:
“Dear crony, don’t leave me,
I’ll be strong, you may believe me!
But to manage winter storms
Give me food, a bit of warmth.”
“Oh, my dear, it’s very queer!
Did you work in summer here?” –
So Ant his answer forms.
“But in summer I was busy:
In the pleasant grass we’d had
Many plays and songs ahead;
Very often I was dizzy.”
“Ah, you mean:” – “I made a hit:
All the summer I was singing:”
“You were singing. Well done dealing!
Now dance a little bit!”
Translated by Sergey Kozlov
