The Starling

Kriloff’s Original Fables
Each has a talent of his own :
But, by another’s proved success too prone
To be led away, we oft alone Attempt the very things for which unfitted.
If my advice were known,
Men for such failures would no more be twitted,
But cultivate the gifts which nature wisely lent.
A Starling, born with such a bent,
So like a bullfinch drilled his song, Men swore it was a bullfinch charmed the throng.
With cheerful notes he filled the woods around,
Till every starling boasted of the sound. Another might have been content in part
;
Our Starling, hearing nightingales were praised, —The Starling had, alas, an envious heart

Thought : ” Not so fast, friends, I myself have
raised The very notes Which fill their throats,
As well as any nightingale.”
Then off he set
;
But in such wise his trills did trail, That now he whined, and now did hoarsely fret
;
At times just like a goat he bleated,
And then repeated
A cat’s shrill squalling.
From all the woods he drove the birds —’twas too
appalling
!
Say, Starling mine, what profit hast thou had ? Better to sing, a bullfinch at his best recalling,
Than as a nightingale to drive all mad.