The Life of the Grasshopper 



E deu pati, lou bedlgas. 

 Teisas-vous dounc: quand di lambrusco 

 La Cigalo a cava la rusco, 

 Raubas soun beure, e piei, morto, la rousigas. 



Thus speaks my friend, in his expressive 

 Provencal tongue, rehabilitating the Cicada, 

 who has been so grossly libelled by the 

 fabulist. 



TRANSLATOR'S NOTE 



I am indebted for the following transla- 

 tion to the felicitous pen of my friend Mr. 

 Osman Edwards: 



THE CICADA AND THE ANT 



Ye gods, what heat ! Cicada thrills 

 With mad delight when fairy rills 

 Submerge the corn in waves of gold, 

 When, with bowed back and toil untold, 

 His blade the songless reaper plies, 

 For in dry throats song gasps and dies. 



This hour is thine: then, loud and clear, 

 Thy cymbals clash, Cicada dear, 



