The stupid king-swan pecks by night
At starshine, in the water bright,
Believing it a lotus white;
Then, fearing stars when shines the sun,
Avoids the lotus. Everyone
Who dreads a trap, will blessings shun.
Alas! What wrong have I done our master Rusty?"
"Comrade," said Victor, "kings love to injure without reason, and they seek out the vulnerable spot in an adversary." "True, too true," said Lively. "There is wisdom in the verse:
The serpent sandal-trees defiles;
In lotus-ponds lurk crocodiles;
The slanderer makes virtue vain:
No blessing lacks attendant pain.
No lotus decks the mountain height;
From scoundrels issues nothing right;
To saints no change of heart is known;
Rice never sprouts from barley sown.
Nobility's constraints
Are felt by gracious saints,
Who bear good deeds in mind
Forget the other kind.
"Yet, after all, the fault is mine, because I made advances to a false friend. As the story goes:
Harsh talk, untimely action,
False friends—are worse than vain:
The swan in lilies sleeping,
Was by the arrow slain."
